by Linda Ford
Donna Grace could barely breathe. She’d heard the shot. Expected to feel the searing jolt as a bullet hit her. Mentally, she checked all her body parts and could detect no injury. How was that possible?
More shots rang out.
She bit her bottom lip and tears stung her eyes. Would someone have to push Luke’s lifeless body off her? Tears clogged her throat. Please God, save us. She silently repeated the words over and over.
The thundering of racing horses reached her. The gunshots became sporadic and then ended all together.
Luke rolled off her.
She would not move, would not look toward him for fear she would see the life seeping from him.
“Are you in one piece?”
At the sound of his voice, she sucked in a steadying breath.
He helped her sit up then ran his hands over her shoulders and arms.
The tears she’d been holding back broke free, and she wrapped her arms about Luke, clinging to his strength.
He rubbed her back and made soothing noises.
Warren stood beside them. “Is everyone okay?”
Luke nodded. “Thanks for showing up when you did. There was nothing I could do.” His arms tightened around Donna Grace.
“Is Polly safe?” she managed to gulp.
“She’s with the ladies getting hugged and kissed,” Warren said, with a touch of humor.
Not unlike herself, Donna Grace thought. She should leave the shelter of Luke’s arms. She should get to her feet. She should return to the safety of the caravan. But she didn’t move.
Warren strode away. Murmured voices reached her. Mary Mae said something about wanting to go back. The voices faded. She knew by the sounds that they climbed the hill to where the wagons waited.
“I was so frightened,” she murmured against the front of Luke’s shirt.
“Me too. I thought I’d be part of another woman being murdered.”
“Oh Luke, I never thought of how it would be for you.” She looked into his face. “You poor man.” She pressed a palm to his cheek.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. “Thank God, you and Polly are okay. I thought the men were shooting at you, but it was Warren and the others shooting at them.”
“Yes, thank God.” She was more than willing to acknowledge divine intervention and protection. “And thank you for protecting me. You were prepared to give your life.” Her throat thickened and her words came out in broken syllables. “I would not forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”
He looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t suggest you aren’t worth it.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Though the thought hovered at the back of her mind. “I have a baby to think of.”
He got up and pulled her to her feet. “I better get you both back to the wagons. Buck won’t be happy about the delay.” He took her hand and assisted her up the steep slope.
She was out of breath when they reached the top and had to stop a moment. The baby turned over and gave her a hard kick against her ribs. She pressed a hand to the spot. “At least the baby is okay.”
Buck had called for the noon break and they joined the others. Mrs. Shepton reached for Donna Grace’s hand.
“I’m glad to see you are safe.”
“And you, too.” Donna Grace reached for Judith’s hands. “You, too.” She smiled at Mary Mae who was busy with food.
There was no sign of Gil or Buck. She wanted to thank them for coming to their rescue. Perhaps they had followed the nasty gang of men to make sure they truly left.
Mary Mae served cold biscuits and ham. She squatted before Donna Grace. “I was so scared when I saw you out there.” She shuddered.
She squeezed her sister’s hands. “I’m fine.”
Mary Mae nodded. “I have never prayed so hard in all my life. Thank God for taking care of us all.”
Reverend Shepton got to his feet. “I feel a prayer of gratitude is in order.” He held his hat before his chest and lifted his face toward heaven. “God, I know You are always our help and shield and defender, but today we saw it so clearly. We humbly thank You.” He was silent a moment before he said, “Amen.”
Donna Grace murmured her own, “Amen.”
She sought out Polly who sat on her uncle’s lap, clinging to him.
“You were very brave,” Donna Grace said.
“I was scared.” The child sobbed into her uncle’s shirt front.
“Fear and courage go hand in hand,” Donna Grace said.
Polly looked at her. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“Yes. You see courage is simply being afraid and doing the right thing anyway.”
Polly gave a shy smile. “I wanted to scream and run, but I didn’t.”
Donna Grace nodded. “You did really well.”
Buck rode up, ending the conversation. “They were still riding away when I turned back. I hope we’ve seen the last of them. We won’t rest long here.”
“Thank you for coming to our rescue,” Donna Grace said.
He touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment and rode down the line of wagons, letting the teamsters know.
Donna Grace saw that many of them were stretched out. They’d had the good sense to take a nap while they waited for the women to rejoin the caravan.
Her conscience stung. Had she been responsible for delaying everyone? She struggled to her feet and began to put away the supplies and discovered a number of bruises on her body. One in particular, on her hip, slowed her steps.
Mrs. Shepton came to her, supposedly helping with the chores. “I saw you go down. You hit the ground hard. Are you feeling it anywhere?”
Without thinking Donna Grace touched her hip. “A bruise or two. Nothing serious. Especially when I think what might have happened.”
Mrs. Shepton caught Donna Grace’s hands and pulled her round to face her. “Is the baby still moving?”
“He’s let me know he’s okay.”
“Good. Good. But I suggest you take it easy today. Ride, instead of walking.”
“I think I might.” Her gaze went toward the wagon where Luke hitched the mules into their harness. He turned, and slowly straightened. The distance between them vanished as did the voices and presence of the others. Only the two of them existed and the tenuous feeling between them. He had willingly thrown himself over her to protect her. Most certainly it was because of his remorse over the murder of his intended. Somehow she must assure him that he had more than made up for whatever lack he thought he was guilty of.
He held out a hand and she went to him and allowed him to help her to the wagon seat. She discovered another bruise on her ribs and remembered his elbow pressed to her side, enclosing her so she wasn’t exposed to the intruders.
They jolted along the trail. “I feel I should apologize,” he said.
Here she sat wanting to reassure him and he wanted to apologize? “For what?”
“I was rough when I threw you to the ground. I worry I might have hurt you. Did I?”
She pressed her hand to his arm. “Luke, you were willing to die for me. You acted with the best of interests and I can only thank you for being such a noble man.”
He looked at her hand resting on his arm. Patted it and stared at the mules. But the smile teasing at the corner of his eyes informed her that her words had meant a lot to him.
After a bit, her head started falling forward.
“Go in the back and rest,” he said, and she did so without arguing. Within moments she fell asleep.
A jolt jarred her from her slumbers and she hurried to the seat and looked over Luke’s shoulder.
He turned back to smile at her. “Feeling better?”
She rested her cheek against his shoulder, liking the way his muscles corded as he moved the reins. He was such a good man. He deserved—
She drew back. She could not let his actions, born out of remorse over his betrothed, affect how she felt or acted. They had agreed to a temporary marriage. Each for their o
wn reasons. Neither of them cared to have it otherwise. He didn’t need a woman with a baby by another man. And she wasn’t ready to trust a man. Besides, if he ever married, he should marry someone nobler than her, someone who would be less responsibility. But for now, they were man and wife, and he’d risked his own life to protect her. “You’re a good man, Luke,” she murmured. Her frankness brought embarrassed heat to her cheeks. Thankfully he couldn’t see her face.
He chuckled. “Good for what?”
She heard the teasing note in his voice but also a longing to know that is was so. “For rescuing maidens in distress. That’s twice you’ve done so for me.”
He didn’t turn his head but she could see he smiled. “I believe God put me in the right place at the right time. He gets all the credit.”
“I prayed very hard when those shots were ringing out and I have no doubt God protected all of us, but I don’t think He picked you up and threw you over me.”
He shifted then to look at her. “I could not stand to see another woman I’m responsible for murdered.”
That was the second time he’d said it. She must make him see he had been absolved by his actions. “You have more than made up for any guilt you think is yours in that matter.” She pressed her cheek against him. “Thank you.”
He rested his head against hers. “You’re welcome.”
Reminding herself that physical familiarity was not part of their agreement, she sat up.
They rode without speaking for a few moments. The sun hung low in the western sky. “Will we be stopping soon?”
“We’ll stop at Rock Creek. In fact, we’re are almost there.”
A few minutes later, Buck waved them aside. Soon the wagons were circled together.
Luke helped her down, and then tended to the animals. She knew it would be an hour or so before he returned, as he would also check on the Russell’s freight wagons. In the meantime, she and the other women would prepare supper.
The Sheptons had joined their group. Buck sometimes shared their meal or, more often, joined one of the freighters’ groups.
Gil rode in, and saw them preparing meat and potatoes. He dismounted and stepped closer. “Did anyone suffer because of those scoundrels?” He spoke to Judith more than to the others and Donna Grace watched the pair. Were they attracted to each other?
Judith turned away. “Everyone is fine. Thank you for coming to our rescue.” The stiffness of her words denied any attraction on her behalf.
“I thank you, too,” Donna Grace said. “Would you care to join us for supper?”
He hesitated. Seemed to wait for Judith to say something.
“Yes, please do. It’s the least we can offer after you helped rescue us.” Judith did not look at him as she spoke.
“Thank you. It would be a pleasure.” Gil tied his horse to a wagon and sauntered to the fire.
It was a merry little group. Sam’s pies had all been consumed, but Donna Grace had made an apple pudding from the store of dried apples, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. She looked to Luke for his opinion. As if it was the only one that mattered, she thought with some disgust at herself.
He smiled and his eyes warmed as if he meant his remarks for her alone. “The dessert was very good. Thank you, Donna Grace.”
A round of thanks for all the cooks was given.
But all that Donna Grace heard was Luke’s approval.
It wasn’t until she had crawled into the tent next to Mary Mae and tried to sleep that she took the time to examine her reaction. Why did she so dearly want his approval?
The truth was plain.
Because he so freely gave it. She’d tried so hard to please Grandfather Ramos and never could, so she stopped trying. She’d tried to please Melvin, always wondering why she failed, and then had learned nothing she could do would be enough because he had a real wife to deal with. Papa used to be pleased with her, when he was around, which was seldom. But then she’d come home with a baby in her belly, and no husband. She’d disappointed him, too.
She twisted about on the buffalo robe, trying to find a comfortable position, but the bruise on one hip and on the ribs of her other side made it impossible to get settled.
Coyotes sang from a distant hill. Somewhere along the creek, an owl hooted. The oxen lowed and the mules stomped their feet. The sounds of the evening called to her.
She slipped from the tent, pulling a shawl about her shoulders, and tiptoed beyond the wagons to stare at the water of the creek and the silvery slate walls of the creek bank.
A rustling behind alerted her to the presence of someone and she glanced toward the wagons. She should not be out here alone. What if one of those intruders had slipped back?
She gathered up her skirt and prepared to dash back to safety.
“It’s just me.”
Her breath whooshed out as she recognized Luke’s voice. “I shouldn’t have come out here, but I couldn’t sleep.”
“Nor could I.” They walked side by side along the edge of the creek, their steps slow. The gray night surrounding them.
They reached a fallen tree. “Let’s sit for a bit,” Luke said.
Their shoulders pressed together. Warmth came from him and comforted her in a way that lying on the buffalo robe had not.
“Tell me about your family,” Luke said. “Are you and Mary Mae the only children?”
“Yes, though we have many cousins on the Ramos side. Most of them live in Mexico City. Grandfather considers himself part of Spanish nobility. He was always disappointed with us—me, especially—because I cared more about life in the west than what life would be like in Spain or even Mexico City.” She gave a mirthless chuckle. “After Mama died, he wanted to send us back to Mexico City to learn how to be proper Spanish ladies. Thankfully, Papa arrived in time to stop that.”
“It sounds like you didn’t much care for the life your grandfather wished for you.”
“I didn’t. Nor was I raised to value it. Mama adored her father, but she loved our papa and chose to do things his way. She allowed us to play with the children of the town, even though Grandfather considered them poor company for us. She let Papa take us in his wagons and follow him about his business.”
“You’re smiling, aren’t you?”
Her smile widened. “I am indeed. Those were the happiest days of my life. To be free of censure and judgement. I suppose that’s why I want to return, even though I fear encountering Grandfather Ramos. He has a way of making me feel like I do everything wrong, and worse, cause everyone trouble.” Her smile flattened. “I guess I’ve done it again. Made trouble for everyone.”
Luke heard the sorrow in her voice and guessed she referred to this afternoon’s events. “If anyone is to blame for what happened, I think I can fairly say it was those men on horseback.” He shuddered. “When I think how differently things might have turned out… ”
She found his hand in the dark and rested her head on his shoulder. It was a gesture she had repeated often. He didn’t know if it came naturally, or if it meant she felt safe with him. He liked to believe there was a certain amount of the latter involved.
“Things turned out the way they were meant to,” she said.
“Does that mean when bad things happen, they were meant to be?”
She rubbed her head against his shoulder. “You said the blame for today’s unfortunate events lay with those intruders. I think it’s the same with Ellen. The evil intent of the intruders is to blame.”
“How did you know I was thinking of Ellen?”
“Because her death seems to motivate much of what you do.”
He thought of that a moment. “Perhaps it did at first.”
She shifted to look in his face. Enough light came from the moon and reflected off the rock face of the creek banks that he could make out her features and knew she would be able to do the same. “Luke, what motivates you now?”
He studied her, wishing he could read the expression in her eyes, but it was too dark and b
ecause of that he felt safe speaking frankly. “The desire to do what is right and to protect others as much as possible.”
“And when it’s not possible?”
“Then I can console myself with the knowledge that I did the best I could.”
She sat up. “The best you could. I like that.”
They sat side by side, content in each other’s company. She shifted as if trying to get more comfortable and he thought of how hard she’d gone to the ground.
“How badly are you bruised?”
“Nothing serious.”
She caught his hand. “Feel this.” She brought his hand to her stomach and he felt the baby kicking. “The baby is okay and that is all that matters.”
He laughed. “I think he’s trying to kick his way out.”
“Not yet, baby. Not yet.” She stretched. “I don’t feel a bit sleepy. Maybe I slept too long this afternoon, but you have to work tomorrow. You don’t get the luxury of riding in the back of the wagon unless you will let me drive it.”
He chuckled. “I think I can manage to stay awake.”
She jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “You don’t think I can drive it, do you? Well, I’ll have you know Papa taught me how when we came to St. Louis. That seems a long time ago. It was such fun traveling with Papa. He encouraged me to be independent.” Her voice deepened. “And now I’ve disappointed him by carrying a child but having no husband.”
“That’s hardly your fault.” Just the mention of the man who had treated her so poorly made his fists clench.
“I know, but it doesn’t change the circumstances. Nor how people view me and my child.”
He caught her hand and held it tight. “Not now. You have a husband and your baby has a father, Mrs. Russell.”
She turned her palm to his and squeezed hard. “It’s a generous thing you do for me.”
“But?” He’d heard the hesitation in her voice.
“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate that you are willing to give my child a name, but he will grow up without a father.”
“Do you want to renegotiate our agreement?” He did his best to keep his tone neutral but wasn’t sure he succeeded. He shouldn’t have spoken those words. He wasn’t ready to open his heart to pain. Though they might be able to maintain this marriage on the basis of mutual convenience and allow him to keep his heart safely sheltered.
