by Linda Ford
“Is this God’s way of answering my prayer?” Her intense gaze challenged him.
He dared not blink. Dared not show the least discomfort or even doubt. He spoke the only words that came to mind. “It’s the beginning of a long journey.”
“Will the end be happy?”
How could he say? He wasn’t God. He couldn’t even guess how his future would be. He’d made plans and thought he knew what he wanted, but suddenly the plans seemed sketchy and uncertain. “The Bible says ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.’”
Johnny couldn’t explain why he’d spoken those words. And he wasn’t surprised when Willow’s eyes widened.
“What does that mean?”
He considered his response. “Maybe that God sees a bigger picture than we do, so things that happen now, things that to us seem random, are part of an overall plan.”
She nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”
For a few minutes they rode on in silence, lost in their own thoughts, then she turned to confront him again. “How do you know that verse?”
A happy smile widened his mouth. “Maisie is a teacher. She came to civilize a trio of wild half-breed boys and was faced with teaching them the three R’s and so much more. Like how to eat like gentlemen. She loves her Bible and had us memorize many verses.”
“She seems such a sweet lady.”
“She is. We couldn’t have asked for a better step-mother. I think my ma would have approved.”
“That’s nice.” Willow studied her hands, deep in thought. He’d noticed this reaction before when Maisie was mentioned, as if Willow found talk of his stepmother upsetting, and perhaps even painful.
He pulled her a little closer, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on the top of her head. Just as he’d managed to resist kissing her a short time ago. He knew Celia had again hurt Willow’s feelings. His hug had begun as an offer of comfort, but something inside him had shifted at the sight of her teary face. An urge as deep as the ocean had pulled at his heart, a need to offer more than temporary comfort. It had taken a great effort to remind himself she was in mourning and he had promised Thad things that made it impossible to court a young woman in town.
Johnny allowed himself a thread of hope. Perhaps a time would come when he and Thad could go their separate ways and things would change for him.
Until then he would not allow himself to hope for more. Not that Willow had given him any reason for hope. In fact, quite the opposite. She’d stated she would not marry again. He had no reason to doubt her. Nor even, for that matter, to trust her wholly. And yet no reason existed not to trust her.
Realizing his thoughts had wandered from the path he’d chosen, heading down a trail he wasn’t ready to travel, he lowered his arm from Willow’s shoulder and turned around to check on the passengers in the back of the wagon. “What?” He pulled up on the reins.
The surprise in his voice jerked Willow around and they stared at the place where the two girls had been seated.
Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them, the girls still were not there. They weren’t anywhere in the wagon.
He scanned the surrounding countryside. Not a sign of them.
“What happened to them?” Willow’s voice cracked with worry. “Did they fall off? Did someone snatch them away?”
Johnny squinted down the trail, but saw no sign of anything lying in the dust. “We would have heard if anyone approached.” Wouldn’t they? Was it possible a man—two men—could have sneaked up behind them and taken the girls? They’d have had to cover their mouths to keep them from calling out. And Celia wouldn’t go without a fight. No, surely they would have heard.
He could think of no explanation for their disappearance.
He brought the wagon around. “You drive. I’m going to get off and look at the tracks.” He went ahead of the horse, his head bent over the trail. His spine crackled with tension, which wasn’t helped by Willow’s worried words.
“Are they that unhappy to see me? Are they angry at me? I thought I was doing what was best for all of us. Now I’m not so sure. Seems like it isn’t what they want. Or at least not what Celia wants, and she has been telling Sarah what to do for a long time now. Poor little Sarah, she just wants to please people, so she’ll go along with Celia even if she doesn’t like it.”
Johnny tried to shut his mind to Willow’s restless chatter as he concentrated on clues in the dust.
She continued, “Are they that unhappy about leaving the Reames? Don’t they know they didn’t have a choice? Mr. Reames said they couldn’t stay after Bertie’s death. He said—”
Suddenly she grew silent and Johnny paused to look at her. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. When their gazes connected, she gave a slight shake of her head.
He could not think what it meant. Except there was something she didn’t wish to tell him. A secret. His insides hardened. He did not care for secrets.
He shifted his attention back to the trail and continued walking, then drew up with a shout. “They got off here. Their steps go that way.” He straightened and pointed toward the trees that crowded the trail at this spot.
Willow pulled the wagon to a halt and jumped down. She raced toward the grove.
He caught her and stopped her flight. “Wait until I make sure it’s safe. Stay here with Adam.” He considered the risks. “Best get back in the wagon and have your pistol handy.”
The color drained from her face. “You think—”
“I don’t know what to think, but I’m not taking any chances.” He waited as she scrambled into the wagon and grabbed her little bag, where he knew she kept her gun. Then he followed the tracks into the trees, moving silently as his ma had taught him and listening for any unusual sounds.
The leaves to his right rustled and he grew motionless, but it was only a breeze that stirred them. He edged forward, pausing at another sound. A giggle? Sarah?
He broke through the trees to the edge of the river and his tension eased. Celia and Sarah, in their undergarments, sat in the water, which was up to Sarah’s chin and Celia’s shoulders. They seemed happy and safe, but to be certain, he studied the trees on both sides of the river and then slipped back into the shadows and made his silent way up and down the bank for several yards in either direction.
Satisfied no immediate threat existed, he moved into the open. “So this is where you disappeared to.”
Sarah squealed and her eyes widened.
Celia jerked about to stare at him, her expression hard. “We decided to have a swim.”
“Not a bad idea, but you might have let us know.”
Celia tossed her head. “Didn’t see the need.”
He wasn’t about to argue with the girl. “You all done here?”
Sarah headed for shore, but Celia grabbed her arm and stopped her. “No, we aren’t.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll just go let your sister know you’re safe.” And to ensure Celia didn’t decide to run away while he was gone, he scooped up their shoes and dresses. He doubted the girl would want to wander away barefoot and in her undergarments.
He trotted back to the wagon, ever alert for any other dangers lurking in the trees. “I found them,” he called as soon as she was in sight.
“Are they safe?”
He was at the wagon by the time she reached the ground, and he caught her as she stumbled forward. His arms tightened and he would have held her, but she pushed away, intent on getting to her sisters.
“They’re fine. They’re playing in the river.” He put their shoes and dresses into the wagon and glanced at Adam, assuring himself the little boy was still sleeping safely in his little nest.
Willow ground to a halt before Johnny and stared at him.
“They’re what?” She didn’t wait for him to repeat it. “While I sit with a gun in my hand, imagining all sorts of horrible things. Why would they do that?” Her words ended in a wail and she started to cry again.
This time she came readily into his arms and he held her, rubbing his hand up and down her back, wishing he could do more. Make her world safe. Make her sisters cooperative, though it was only Celia who resisted Willow.
She sobbed once more, then shuddered. Still she leaned her head on his shoulder, as if she didn’t have the strength to move away.
He cupped his hand to her head, content to hold her.
With a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside, she straightened. “Are they coming?”
“Celia said they weren’t done.”
“What?” Willow took two strides toward the trees, then spun around. “Do you mind staying with Adam?”
“I’ll watch him,” he said, though he longed to see how she would handle this situation. He checked on Adam and got a friendly grin as the baby pushed himself to his feet and held out his arms.
“Up.”
Johnny took the baby. “You and I aren’t going to miss this.” He followed Willow.
* * *
Willow’s breath steamed in and out. What was wrong with Celia to do such a foolish thing as disappearing without letting them know, and then stripping down and getting into the water? What if someone had come along, such as Chester and Luke? Or the men who had frightened the girls? Willow might not have seen the end of either pair.
But for now the girls were safe. Her tension eased and she smiled. And they were with her. Or were they? Celia certainly didn’t seem grateful for the reunion. Give it time. Give it time. Willow clung to the hope that things would get better.
She reached the river’s edge and jammed her fists to her hips. “Sarah. Celia. Come on out. It’s time to head home.”
Sarah looked from one to the other, uncertain who to obey, then edged toward the shore, glancing over her shoulder to see if Celia would stop her.
Celia crossed her arms and stared at Willow. “I’m not done here.”
Johnny stood nearby, Adam in his arms, and dropped the dresses and shoes to the grass.
Sarah shivered as she stepped from the water.
Willow met Celia look for look, not wanting her sister to think she could outstare her. “Aren’t you getting cold?”
“Cold don’t bother me none.”
“Humph. I recall a time you said otherwise. When we were caught in a cold rain on the walk home from school and you cried in misery. I took off my jacket and hung it over your head to help keep you dry.”
Celia didn’t show any relenting. “I’m not interested in ancient history.”
“Five years is hardly ancient.”
“It is to me.”
How was she to get Celia out of the water? She couldn’t order her out. Celia would scoff at obeying. Willow had no intention of wading into the water and trying to physically force her out. Celia would put up a fight. With anyone else, she might pretend to drive away, but Celia wouldn’t object. She might even think it was exactly what she wanted.
Willow glanced toward Johnny, silently asking what he would do.
He lifted one shoulder.
Not very helpful.
Sarah, now dressed, sidled up to Willow. “I didn’t want to do it, but she gets really mad if I don’t do what she says.”
Willow drew Sarah to her side. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”
“Don’t blame her, either. She can’t help being angry.”
The comment gave Willow pause. Why was Celia so irate? Would her sister ever confide to her the cause?
Johnny set Adam on the grass and Sarah ran over to play with him. Then Johnny sat nearby, his back to a tree as if he had no worries and all the time in the world, while Willow’s thoughts whirled and twisted like a summer storm. They needed to go. The sooner she got her family settled, the sooner she could enjoy them.
But all the fretting in the world was not going to bring Celia out of the water, so with a frustrated lift of her hands she sat beside Johnny, her shoulder against his. She blew out a calming breath. If he wasn’t concerned, then neither was she.
A cool breeze came off the water. The trees provided shade. Birds chattered in the branches. Sarah and Adam laughed together.
“It’s nice here,” Willow said after a bit.
“Some things can’t be rushed.”
“Do you mean with Celia or getting home?”
“Yes, and maybe life in general. That’s something my ma taught me, besides don’t hate. Don’t rush through life. She would say, ‘If you go fast you miss the little things and the little things are so often what guide us.’”
Willow considered his words. “I don’t see how.”
“Watch Celia. If you wait you’ll see her expression change. She’ll rub her lips together and look into the distance.”
Willow glanced at her.
“You can’t let her know you’re watching.”
She shifted her gaze, pretending to study a robin in the trees beyond her sister.
Just as Johnny said, Celia let her own gaze go past them. She rubbed her lips together and her nostrils widened. Willow’s heart twisted at what her sister revealed when she thought no one would notice. “She’s sad.”
“I agree.”
“She’s lost her home twice. I suppose she blames me, but Mr. Reames would not let them stay.”
“That seems odd, especially as you have his grandson. Seems he would be anxious for you to bring the boy and visit your sisters there.”
Willow longed to tell him everything. It would be a relief to share her burden with a sympathetic person. She opened her mouth, paused and then closed it again. She couldn’t risk it. She knew she would see his shock in every look he gave her after she told him. But there was something more pressing than that. She would die with her secret locked inside her before she would subject Adam to judgmental looks.
So all she said was “Mr. Reames could not get past losing his son.”
The words sounded weak, but Johnny appeared to accept them.
“I expect he’ll change his mind when he’s done grieving.”
“Maybe.” That would never happen. “How long are we going to wait for Celia?”
“As long as it takes.”
His easy answer settled through her like a refreshing sleep. “You remind me of my father.” She hadn’t considered her words before she spoke, but the statement was true.
Johnny shifted to look at her. “He was a half-breed?”
She chuckled. “No, he was a patient man. I don’t recall ever seeing him rushed about things or too busy to stop and answer little-girl questions. And believe me, little girls can ask a lot of them. When things went wrong, he didn’t get upset. He’d say, ‘Well now, how are we going to make this right?’” Her heart filled with a smile at the remembrance.
“He sounds like a very wise man.”
“Wise and kind.”
“I’m pleased you say I remind you of him.”
“He’d have liked you.” She knew it to be true. Papa would have seen Johnny’s nobility and honor.
Johnny’s gaze held hers. “He wouldn’t have objected to a half-breed?”
She saw the same hint of sadness in his eyes she’d seen in Celia’s, and reached out her hand to his. “My pa used to say you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. Usually he meant people.”
He topped her hand with his other one. “There are those who hate what is between the pages.”
She knew what he meant. “There are people blinded by their prejudices and false judgments.” Those were the sort she must protect Adam from. “But thankfully, there are also people with compa
ssion, understanding and love.”
He didn’t reply, but his eyes flashed with what she took as appreciation.
Unfortunately, there seemed no way of knowing for certain how people would react.
A great splashing drew their attention to Celia, who headed for the shore.
“Getting cold,” she said with a great deal of annoyance, as if it was someone’s fault other than her own. She stepped to the grass and stood in her undergarments, letting the water drip from her.
Willow’s cheeks burned at Celia’s indiscretion, but she feared saying anything would send her stomping back into the river.
Celia looked directly at her, daring her to speak.
Willow turned away, her heart aching at this defiant stranger who was her sister.
Too embarrassed to look at Johnny or even glimpse his expression, she picked at blades of grass at her knees.
At her side, Sarah and Adam played, one unmindful of the silent drama unfolding before them, the other pretending she didn’t see it.
Meanwhile Johnny, Willow and Celia were silent, playing a waiting game.
Willow shifted so she couldn’t see Celia. Let the girl play the game by herself. But now she could see Johnny, who was staring across the river. If she wasn’t mistaken, his lips twitched as if he fought a smile.
Suddenly, she saw the humor in the situation. Celia meant to shock, meant to inform Willow she would not be controlled, but in so doing, she punished herself.
Willow nudged Johnny with her elbow. He nudged her back and she settled against the tree, this wordless communication between them as satisfying as many a conversation.
Celia turned back and forth and made a great deal of noise about letting the sun dry her off.
Willow decided a nonjudgmental comment was warranted. “The sun is warm today.” She didn’t look at her sister.
“Mamamama,” Adam said and crawled over to her.
“He’s hungry.”
Johnny got up, lifted Adam and reached out to pull Willow to her feet. “Let’s go back and see what’s in the grub box.”
