by Linda Ford
He had enough money saved up and stored in a safe place to buy some of that land in California. And cows like Donna Grace wanted. Horses that he wanted.
He stopped at the side of the wagon and pressed a fist to his forehead. What was he thinking? Foolishness and empty dreams. That’s what.
Warning himself to remember how much it hurt to care strongly about anyone, he held his silence for the first hour of the trip until several antelope raced alongside them and stopped to watch. “See them?”
Donna Grace sat up to peer past him. “They are such graceful creatures. I love to watch them run.”
“Did you know they are the fastest animal in North America?”
“I’m not surprised. But how do you know?”
“We had a naturalist on one of our trips and he told us all sorts of things about the plants and animals around us.”
“Such as?”
For the better part of the afternoon he told her the things he’d learned and she listened in fascination until Buck rode up.
“Looks like a storm coming, but thanks to our travel last night, we’re going to make it to Council Grove.” He rode on by to inform the others.
“Council Grove! Why we’ve only begun our journey,” Donna Grace said. “Yet I feel like we’ve been on the road forever. I feel like I’ve known our traveling companions almost as long.”
He wondered if she included him in the feeling. In a normal marriage he could say they would be together for always. For the first time, he let himself think how he’d miss her company when they went their separate ways.
They set up camp near the cluster of trees at Council Grove. Earlier in the season the place would be a gathering place for wagon trains headed on other trails. However, they were the only ones there. Seems everyone had the good sense not to head to Oregon this late in the year. Going toward New Mexico took them through safer climates.
Again, the thought of crossing the Sangre De Cristo Mountains in November, or even December, with Donna Grace and Mary Mae troubled Luke. Could he persuade them to spend the winter at Bent’s Fort?
The storm held off as they made camp and the women prepared food. Remembering the challenge of trying to cook in the rain and mud of a couple of nights ago, they set about making enough food to last a few meals.
Donna Grace seemed to feel well enough to assist the women. Or, he thought with a bit of resignation, she simply wouldn’t stand by and not help, no matter how she felt.
She was unaware he watched her from beyond the wagons or she wouldn’t have pressed her hand to her back. No one else noticed, but he promised himself he would make an opportunity to speak to Mrs. Shepton about Donna Grace.
They enjoyed a pleasant meal, despite the black clouds building in the west. And then knowing what to expect, the women quickly put everything away. He and Warren made sure the wagons were chained together. The teamsters were experienced and had everything battened down.
Judith called to Mary Mae. “Why don’t you climb in with me like last time?” She sent Luke a look that informed him he should stay with Donna Grace. He had no objection and shrugged.
Warren had already joined his friend Sam with Polly.
“Is it alright if I share the protection of your wagon?” he asked Donna Grace.
“Seems we have no choice.”
“That doesn’t sound very welcoming,” The first drops of rain came, soft and gentle, so unlike the previous storm. He didn’t climb inside. If she didn’t want him there he would shelter with one of the teamsters.
“Get in before you get wet,” she said.
He scurried inside and closed the flap. The rain pattered against the canvas, almost like a lullaby. He sat with his back against the gate, his legs pulled up so he didn’t crowd Donna Grace.
She moaned and rubbed at her hip.
“How badly bruised are you?”
“It’s nothing.” She folded her hands in her lap, but despite her attempt at a smile, her eyes revealed pain.
“Would you admit anything else?” He waited, but she didn’t answer. “I saw how you pressed your hand to your back out there. I recall how Warren’s wife said it got worse just before her time.”
She pressed her palms to her stomach. “My baby isn’t coming until Santa Fe.”
He longed to point out she couldn’t stop the baby simply because she wanted to. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. How he admired her courage and determination. How he wanted to take care of her. He didn’t feel he had the right to say any of those things, but one thing he did want to talk about—the dangers of trying to cross the mountains this late in the year. He knew better than to come at it directly.
“I’m having a hard time understanding why you want to go to Santa Fe when you know you will undoubtedly encounter your grandfather.”
“I already told you that I don’t expect he will bother me.” She relaxed and smiled. “The happiest I’ve ever been was in Santa Fe.” Her smile disappeared. “Until Grandfather Ramos interfered.” A beat of silence and then she smiled. “I had a best friend there. Rosa Garcia. The best friend I ever had. I could tell her anything. We made plans to start a ranch together.” She chuckled. “We figured we would never marry. Guess I should have kept that promise.” She fell silent.
“What happened to your friend?”
“Grandfather Ramos.” The bitter tone of her voice made Luke shudder.
“What did he do?”
She pulled in a long breath and released it slowly before she answered. “Mama let me play with Rosa. We often played in the plaza along with the other children. One day Rosa and I were there when Grandfather rode up on his big black stallion. He saw me. ‘No Ramos plays in the plaza with street urchins.’ He used a Spanish word but I knew exactly what he meant. I grabbed Rosa’s hand and told him she was my friend. He rode his horse toward us. Real close. I held tight to Rosa and backed away but he kept coming and forced us to step apart and then he herded me home like a wayward mule.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
Luke pulled her into his arms. “That was very unkind.”
She nodded against his chest. “I was so angry. He told Mama I was not allowed to run free like a wild animal. When he left, I told Mama I hated him. ‘You must never hate your grandfather,’ she said. ‘God would not want you to.’ ‘Maybe I don’t care,’ I said back.”
Donna Grace found Luke’s hand and clung to it. “Mama said that made her very sad. She said knowing and trusting God had enabled her to live the life she chose and still honor her father. ‘He clings to the old ways and cannot see that they will not last.’” Donna Grace sighed. “I try not to hate my grandfather, but it’s hard.”
“Where is Rosa now?”
Donna Grace stared straight ahead. “I don’t know. I never saw her again after that day.”
“How is that possible?”
“Her family moved away the next day. I think Grandfather somehow made them leave.”
“I’m sorry you lost your friend.” Señor Ramos seemed more and more a harsh, unfeeling man who had taught Donna Grace to mistrust men. “No wonder you have a hard time believing any man would see you for who you truly are.” He knew the moment the words were out he should not have spoken them. He wasn’t prepared to put into words what he thought. Wasn’t even sure he could. To stop her from responding to his comment, he asked another question.
“I’m going to guess that was the worst day of your life. What was the best?”
She tipped her head back against his shoulder. “The day Mama died and Grandfather made us go home with him was equally bad. As to my best day… ” After a long pause she spoke again. “I don’t think I’ve had it yet.”
“Maybe it will come while we are on this trip.”
“Maybe.” She sounded less than convinced. “I think I know what your worst day was.”
“If you refer to Ellen’s murder, you’re right.” He couldn’t even talk of it without his voice cracking.
“What’
s your happiest day?”
He had to think about it. “At one time I would have said when I bought that farm, but now it seems meaningless. Or when Ellen agreed to marry me, but we’d grown up together, and we just knew we belonged together. I told you about the day Ma and Pa took us on a picnic. That, I guess, is the happiest day so far.”
She chuckled. “Maybe you’ll have a happy moment on our trip. Something that will shine in your memory so when you’re asked in the future what was the best moment of your life, you’ll know it for sure.”
He liked the idea of something so special it would shine in his thoughts. But looking for that sort of occasion would only lead to disappointment. “I’m happy just doing what I need to do each day.”
They fell into silence broken by the pat-pat-splash of rain on canvas. He shifted to peer out the opening. The sky had darkened to gunmetal grey. “It shows no sign of letting up.” The best they could do was stay right where they were. What would Donna Grace think of him spending the night in the wagon with her?
“It’s dark already.” Was it doubt he heard in her voice, or caution?
“Do you want me to leave?”
She sat up and stared at him in the grey light. “If you go out, you’ll get soaked to the skin. Besides, where would you go?”
“I’m sure I could find room in one of the freight wagons.”
She laughed, though it seemed full of disbelief. “You think anyone is going to welcome you all dripping wet?”
“Are you saying I can stay here until the rain lets up? You’re comfortable with that?”
“We are married, after all. As to comfort, I haven’t enjoyed that since we started our journey.”
He understood she referred to her physical discomfort, but he couldn’t help wondering if she might also mean the discomfort of their unusual marriage. At this point there wasn’t anything either of them could do.
9
Donna Grace shifted to one side and tried to get comfortable. Luke had gone to the back of the wagon and stretched out, now snoring softly. His feet butted into her. She tried not to disturb him as she sought for a position that would allow her to sleep, but the ache in her back would not let up. And the baby turned and kicked, as if it, too, sought a comfortable position.
Accepting she would not sleep, she listened to the continuing rain. The cooler weather made the journey easier for the animals, but she could almost cry at the thought of contending with more mud.
The words of the song Luke liked to sing came to her. One stanza in particular played over and over in her head. Your bountiful care what tongue can recite? God did care for her. She no longer doubted it. Nor could she say when she came to that conclusion. Perhaps when she realized she had a child, but no husband, and knew she would have to be father and mother for her baby. Or perhaps it was when Papa had so disappointed her. She smiled into the dark. Part of it might have been when Luke offered to marry her. Had God put him there in the right place at the right time? Somehow it was a comforting thought and she fell asleep.
She wakened as Luke got up. “Has it stopped raining?” she asked.
“I believe it has. Come and see.”
She joined him at the end of the wagon. Sun glistened off drops of water on every blade of grass, on every leaf clinging to the trees and on the spokes of every wheel. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Like God has kissed the world.”
He draped an arm about her shoulders and sang softly. “‘Your bountiful care what tongue can recite? It breathes in the air, it shines in the light.’”
She caught his hand as it lay on her shoulder. The world was fresh and clean and she felt invigorated and ready to face whatever it brought. “This might be one of those moments.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned to look into his face. “I’ll always remember this special morning when God’s love and care shines in the light.”
His brown eyes darkened and his smile widened. “Me too.”
Mary Mae and Judith climbed down from the Russell wagon and started breakfast preparations, while Luke jumped down and reached up to help Donna Grace.
The ground was wet from the rain but the grass underfoot kept it from being muddy. Besides, even mud wouldn’t dampen her spirits this morning, and she eagerly joined the other women as they gathered about the fire. She made coffee while Mary Mae set a pot of cornmeal to cook and Judith fried bacon. Mrs. Shepton tended potatoes in a fry pan.
Warren and Luke came for breakfast, Polly and Sam on their heels.
Donna Grace studied them. “Why so downcast?”
Warren answered her question. “The river has risen twenty-five feet overnight. We won’t be able to cross until the level falls.”
“We’ll be here a day or two,” Luke added, taking the cup of coffee Donna Grace offered him.
“That gives us time to do some laundry,” she said. “I’ll not let anything spoil this beautiful morning.”
Luke brightened at her encouraging words. “We’ll make good use of the time, too. We’ll cut some timbers from the hardwood trees and lash them to the bottom of the wagons so we’ll have them handy for repairs.”
“And we’ll chop wood,” Warren added. “There won’t be much ahead of us.”
“What am I to do?” Polly demanded, feeling very left out.
Mary Mae reached for the little girl’s hands. “You can help me make enough biscuits to last us a few days.”
“Will you teach me how to do it so I can make them for my uncle?”
No one laughed at the child’s seriousness. Truth was, she would likely be carrying adult responsibilities long before she should, simply because of her circumstances—an orphan being raised by a trader.
Reverend Shepton asked the blessing on the food. “And thank You, our Heavenly Father, for cooler weather and safety.”
Eager as everyone was to get started on the work, breakfast was hurried. Donna Grace and the others grabbed buckets and headed to the river for water. As soon as Luke saw their intention he jogged to Donna Grace’s side and took her buckets.
“I’ll bring water for you.”
She thought to protest for about two seconds then thanked him and accompanied him.
They drew close to the river. The banks were short and steep and the water a wild torrent.
Donna Grace stared in fascination and fear. “I don’t recall it being like this when we came before. In fact, Papa and I fished here. I enjoyed that.” She was beginning to wonder if she had spent that journey in a cloud of blind optimism, seeing only the adventure and the way her papa faced each challenge without so much as a quiver of fear.
“We’ll have to wait until the levels drop.” Luke eyed the sky. “It won’t take long if it doesn’t rain.”
Donna Grace studied the sky as well. “It’s deceiving. It can be as clear as glass and then suddenly, a storm is upon us.”
“Pray no more storms for a couple of days.”
She heard a tone she hadn’t noted before. “You’re worried at the delay?”
“The rest and a chance to graze will do the animals well.”
“I know what you’re not saying. It’s late in the year and delays make it possible we might run into snow.”
“There will be snow in the mountains.”
His voice said it wasn’t a maybe. Donna Grace shivered. “I shall pray this delay is short. Just long enough to get caught up on chores.” She turned at the sound of voices to her left. “Are there other people here?”
“Yes. We greeted them earlier. Half a dozen trappers. They’re heading north. I don’t think they’ll pose any problem, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”
He filled her buckets, and filled buckets for Mary Mae and Judith; then they began their return journey.
Donna Grace stayed close to Luke. She’d had quite enough of encountering strangers and had no desire to test these men and see if they were good or not.
The women put water over the fire to heat, and then
gathered the items that needed washing. Working together made the job pleasant.
Mrs. Shepton stood elbow to elbow with Donna Grace as they hung the wet garments on lines between the wagons. “Your husband asked me to check on you.”
Donna Grace paused with a wet towel suspended from her fingers. Her husband? Their agreement did not give him the right to use his position that way. “Really?” She kept her tone neutral. “About what?”
“About the baby, of course. Tell me about the ache in your back.”
“It’s nothing.”
But Mrs. Shepton asked probing questions and again desired to feel Donna Grace’s stomach. “The baby has dropped. It won’t be long now before you deliver.”
Donna Grace resisted the urge to argue. She didn’t want the baby born on the trail. Never mind that others had done it. Her dream was for the baby to be born into a warm home where he would know nothing but love and security. She would never tell her child he was too much bother or didn’t live up to expectations.
But what if the baby came before Santa Fe? She would do what she must do and provide her baby with the security of her love. The security of a home might have to wait a few days or weeks.
She finished the laundry, letting the others carry on the conversation. As she moved about, she noticed it helped relieve her back pain. “I’m going for a walk to explore.”
“Wait, I’ll go with you.” Mary Mae looked at the Dutch oven where she had biscuits browning. Polly stood at Mary Mae’s side intently watching every move.
“You have your hands full. I’ll be fine. I won’t go far.”
“Be careful.” Mary Mae tilted her head in the direction of the trapper’s camp.
Donna Grace headed the opposite way. Her travels took her past the wagons. Men sawed and chopped in the woods. She went on, seeking some quiet. The camp grew distant. Now she could enjoy the birds singing. She paused to take in the golden leaves, the silvery grass and fuzzy tops of flowers and grasses gone to seed.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful,” she murmured. She was about to turn back when she saw a cluster of red leaves. If she gathered them and pressed them into a book, she would have a permanent reminder of this day… one she felt sure she would always remember as special.
