Wagon Train Sweetheart (Journey West 2)

by Lacy Williams

  Georgie scrubbed at his face with his palms. “Thanks for helping me rescue him, Mr. Nathan.”

  An unfamiliar hot knot rose in Nathan’s throat. He should never have allowed the boy to bring the wolf pup back to camp.

  “What should we do now?” Georgie asked.

  “I’ll take care of it.” Nathan had just put down his shovel. He could easily pick it back up.

  “You sure?”

  Nathan’s heart lurched at the boy’s whispered words. He’d suspected the boy had a soft heart, a good heart, when he’d seen him being bullied before. The fact that he was owning up to the responsibility of taking care of the animal tightened something in Nathan’s chest.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll walk you back to your uncle’s campsite,” Emma offered to the boy.

  They left Nathan with the bundle of deceased animal and cloth and Nathan scooped it up, grabbing the shovel he’d just tucked up against the wagon and walking out into the night.

  The cub was tiny and it didn’t take long to dig a hole large enough that scavengers would leave it alone.

  Nathan filled in the hole and stood leaning on the shovel, staring up into the night sky for a long time.

  When he returned to the caravan, he felt the need to wash up again and was thankful he’d left water in a bucket near the Binghams’ wagon, where he’d roll out his bedroll.

  He scrubbed his hands and forearms and then splashed his face before he realized he’d given the boy his only towel for the pup earlier. It was now buried with the animal.

  He used the tail of his shirt to dry off, though it wasn’t entirely clean.

  “You all right?” Emma’s voice came out of the darkness, startling him. He rose from his crouch, looking around.

  The camp was still active, campfires burning and folks not abed yet even at the late hour. Likely folks were as unsettled as he was by everything that had transpired today. He and Emma weren’t entirely alone, and it wasn’t inappropriate. No one seemed to be paying them any mind.

  “That was a kind thing you did for Georgie,” she said, clinging to the wagon bonnet with one hand.

  He couldn’t make out her expression, nor the nuance of her emotion with only the light from the stars and a flickering fire too far away to be of any help.

  He bared his teeth in a self-deprecating snarl. “Real kind to let the animal suffer.”

  And the boy. He had a feeling he’d done worse for the boy than if he’d insisted on putting the animal out of its misery in the first place. Why couldn’t he choose correctly? He could skin a rabbit in minutes but his skills when dealing with people were as rusty as a knife left out in the elements.

  “Don’t be cruel,” she said softly. “You told him the truth, that the animal wasn’t likely to survive. You allowed him to say goodbye.”

  Her voice dimmed to huskiness with emotion and he knew she must be thinking of those who had passed when the rockslide had surprised everyone.

  Something deep inside made him want to reach for her, comfort her, but he remained still, his arms hanging at his sides. He’d thought everything soft in him had died with Beth.

  But after today, he didn’t know what to think. What had possessed him to attempt kindness toward the boy?

  He didn’t know what to say to comfort her, didn’t know what to do with the emotion rioting through him, he only knew that he didn’t want a part in any of it.

  Hadn’t things been simpler when he’d been on his own, before he’d gotten caught up in Emma’s desire for friendship? He wasn’t any kind of friend, and didn’t this prove it?

  But she didn’t seem angry at him.

  She wiped her face with the back of her wrist and then she reached for him. Her small, cool hand closed around his palm, blistered as it was from working the shovel all day.

  “Georgie knows about facing hard things. He’s lost his parents already.”

  He could feel her trembling, with exhaustion or emotion, he didn’t know.

  But she wasn’t done. “You did a kind thing,” she said again.

  He shook his head but she squeezed his hand and he froze, everything inside him attuned to that one point of contact.

  And then she turned and disappeared into the night.

  He remained unsettled as he rolled out his bedroll and the mutt dog appeared, sniffing him over good before settling at his shoulder as the night cooled around them.

  Nathan didn’t know what to do about the boy, or about Emma. She deserved a far sight better than a friend like him, but she seemed to want his company.

  And he was coming to crave hers.

  Chapter Ten

  Twelve days later, Nathan worked at unhitching the Binghams’ oxen from their wagon.

  They’d traveled nearly three hundred exhausting miles under the challenging wagon master. The country had become exceedingly mountainous. Tonight they were camped on the banks of the Bear River. Mountains rose on both sides of this valley, snowcapped peaks glinting gold in the last rays of sunlight, for as far as the eye could see. Quaking aspens grew at their base, in the far distance, and along the river, cedar and sour-berry bushes grew.

  The basin valley would be good grazing for the oxen, Nathan was sure of it.

  Nathan had exulted at being able to do his job again. Bingham would still pay him at the end of their journey. He’d grown hale again, his muscles remembering the strain of work, his cough finally subsiding.

  He’d enjoyed the routine they’d fallen into, even though he constantly told himself it couldn’t last. It had been two weeks of Emma’s smiles. Two weeks of quiet breakfasts with her family, and boisterous evenings with the children who wandered into their camp and were never turned away.

  The children’s parents hadn’t softened toward Nathan. Mostly, they watched him with wariness, if not outright suspicion. He left them alone and they rarely spoke to him.

  Which suited him fine.

  “Mister, can you fix this?”

  Nathan startled at the childish voice, bumping the nearest oxen with his hip to entice it to move forward after he’d released its yoke.

  Supporting the weight of the wagon tongue, Nathan looked down on the towheaded boy at his side. Georgie. The eight-year-old kid held a toy soldier up for Nathan’s inspection, clearly unmindful of the danger he’d been in moments ago.

  “Where’d you come from?” he gruffed.

  Heart still pounding, he didn’t wait for an answer, but rushed on, “Don’t get close until I’ve got the rest of the oxen away, all right? It’s dangerous.”

  Georgie’s eyes widened. He looked up at Nathan.

  Nathan was aware of the boy standing in his shadow as he turned out the other three oxen. If he had been underfoot, he could’ve been trampled.

  Nathan didn’t know whether to reprimand the boy again or if his previous warning had been enough. So he didn’t say anything as he settled the tongue on the grass and made sure everything was ready for hitching up in the morning.

  Scamp ran up, somehow knowing to stay away from the oxen, barking joyously at seeing Georgie. The boy laughed, dropping to the ground to allow the dog to put its paws on his shoulders and lick his face.

  “Hi, Scamp!”

  Finally, Nathan cleared his throat. “Let me see what you’ve got,” Nathan said grudgingly.

  Georgie stood, and the dog returned to having all four paws on the ground. He circled the boy, sniffing at his trousers as if trying to discover all the adventures he’d been on this day. Georgie handed Nathan the wooden soldier, only a few inches tall. Broken in half.

  He had appeared every evening since Emma had cajoled Nathan into reading for the kids. After multiple nights of putting up with the kid, Nathan couldn’t fathom why he sought out a grump like him in
stead of someone more personable, like Ben. It was clear Emma had a soft spot in her heart for the boy. For all of the children, in fact.

  And Georgie seemed lonely, even with a family like he had. So Nathan didn’t turn him away, even though he probably should.

  When the weather in the evenings was clear, the children appeared. Somehow, she’d coaxed Nathan to read to them by candlelight before they had to return to their families and bed.

  He’d read until he was hoarse, with her pressed to his side, holding a candle so he could see the pages.

  He’d memorized the sweet smell of her hair, felt the nudge of her upper arm against his, relished her soft gasps as the story had surprised her, just like the children.

  He was more aware of her than a simple friendship should allow, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan told the boy now. “I don’t think I can fix it.” The break was clean, but he didn’t have glue.

  The boy shrugged and didn’t attempt to take the trinket back. Nathan stuck it in his pocket, wondering if Emma would later have a solution to put it back together.

  “Look what I found today.”

  The boy dug in his shirt pocket and produced a bit of a robin’s blue eggshell that he cupped carefully in his grubby palm.

  Nathan nodded, not sure how to react to such a find.

  He wasn’t sure how to relate to the boy at all, but that hadn’t stopped Georgie from following him around.

  Scamp sat at their feet, nose lifted as if he was listening to everything they said.

  “I’ve got to tend to the wagon,” Nathan said, but if he’d hoped the boy would understand the hint and leave him alone, he was disappointed.

  “I’ll watch.”

  The boy chattered on, something about his cousins and a rabbit, while Nathan examined a good-size crack in the front corner of the wagon box.

  He’d heard it happen close to the time the wagon master had called a halt for the day. The rough terrain was hard on the wagons and it didn’t help that Bingham had overfilled his.

  He was good at tracking, setting traps, skinning animals. Not so good at woodworking, and the only tool he owned was his pocketknife. At least he could tell Ben about it.

  “Miss Emma!” Georgie suddenly piped and Nathan’s head came up.

  She was there wearing a light blue dress, her hair windblown into little wisps around her face. And of course, her ever-present smile.

  To his consternation, he couldn’t help himself from smiling back, though his gut tightened. Was today the day she would realize the kind of man he was and walk away from their friendship?

  Both boy and dog jumped and bounced around her in a circle until she laughed.

  “I should’ve known I would find you with Mr. Nathan,” she said to the boy, but her gaze quickly came back to him, radiating approval.

  Uncomfortable under the undeserved emotion, Nathan rubbed one hand over the shadow of whiskers on his jaw. He’d attempted to shave daily, but there wasn’t always time with the bustle of readying the wagons for the day’s travels, especially not if the oxen had ranged afar as they grazed. Today he probably looked the disreputable pirate they’d been reading about in Emma’s storybook.

  “We’re looking at the wagon,” Georgie explained.

  “Hmm…? Oh.” She caught sight of the cracked wagon bed. “That can’t be good. Can it be fixed?”

  Nathan shrugged. “I’ll have to get Ben and Mr. Bingham to look at it.”

  “Look what I found today!” Georgie lifted the piece of robin’s egg in his grubby palm and Emma bent over the boy, her hands on her thighs.

  “That’s very lovely.”

  “It’s the same color as your eyes!” The boy was so excited by the find he was fairly dancing in place. “Ain’t it, Mr. Nathan?”

  Emma’s face turned up to him, her cheeks a lovely pink.

  He swallowed hard. “An exact match.”

  The color in her face got even darker.

  She stood to her full height. Looked at him, looked back at the boy. She seemed uncomfortable and the muscles in his shoulders tightened.

  “Umm…”

  “Miss Emma, we gonna read the end of our book tonight?” Georgie interrupted before she could get out whatever it was she was going to say.

  I can’t be your friend anymore.

  He’d cherished every night sitting around the fire with her family and the others. Mostly her. He’d started looking forward to it by the time he got out of the wagon for the day.

  But no one could call him personable. He’d been waiting for this to happen, for her to say she’d had enough. To go back to being acquaintances.

  “Well, Georgie, I don’t know…”

  “Aww. Why not?” The kid seemed genuinely disappointed.

  No storybook tonight. The thought dropped like a ball of lead in his stomach.

  She looked up at him again and there was something on her face, some emotion he didn’t recognize.

  His hands fisted at his sides of their own accord.

  Her eyes flashed to the kid again. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to say it in front of Georgie.

  That was okay with Nathan. He didn’t want to hear her tell him to leave her alone with an audience, either.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Nathan asked. “Something to do?” Maybe the words weren’t polite, but they the best he could do.

  “I’m helping you,” Georgie replied, as if the answer was obvious.

  Emma’s lips twitched as if she was fighting off a smile. But the seriousness behind her gaze remained.

  She bent to the boy’s level again. “The truth is, a group of adults are getting together for some music tonight, over near the Larsons’ wagon. And I’d like to go.”

  Her blue eyes came to Nathan again, but he couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. She wanted to go be with people her own age. She didn’t want to do the reading.

  Oxen lowed in the distance, the sound hanging in the awkward silence between the three.

  “But will we read tomorrow? We’re almost to the end,” Georgie asked.

  “Yes,” Emma said with a laugh.

  A little of the tension left Nathan’s shoulders. They would read again tomorrow. She wasn’t telling him to leave her alone. He wasn’t sure why it even mattered so much to him, only that it did.

  “Don’t you think Mr. Nathan should go with me?” Emma asked Georgie.

  And Nathan’s tension ratcheted back up. “What?” he asked sharply.

  Georgie looked between the two of them, lips pursed as if he was thinking hard.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nathan said to Emma. He’d do anything to keep the travelers’ dislike of him from rubbing off on Emma.

  Georgie was still looking between them, and Nathan grew uncomfortable under the boy’s scrutiny. Maybe this discomfort was what Emma had felt before she blurted out her invitation.

  “Why not?” she asked. “It’s just a group of friends getting together. With the music playing, you won’t even have to talk to anyone.”

  A group that he wasn’t a part of. He shook his head.

  “You should go with Miss Emma,” Georgie pronounced. He stepped closer to Nathan and cupped one of his hands in front of his mouth, as if he wanted to share a confidence.

  Nathan stared at him.

  With the other hand, the boy motioned Nathan closer.

  Reluctantly, Nathan bent at the waist.

  Georgie’s breath was uncomfortably hot on his jaw as the boy whispered. “Miss Emma is right pretty. And you’d get to sit next to her.”

  His whisper had been loud enough that Nathan was sure Emma had heard it, but she maintained a straight face.


  His face heated as he stood to his full height.

  Georgie looked at him expectantly.

  What he’d said was true. Emma was the most beautiful woman traveling with their caravan. A man would have to be an idiot not to see that.

  But she wasn’t for him.

  “I don’t—” He started to protest, but with both of them watching him so expectantly…he gave in. “Fine.”

  Emma’s face lit with joy.

  Georgie whooped.

  He just wished he could believe it would all end happily.

  * * *

  Later that night, Emma nervously smoothed her skirt and tucked a fallen lock of hair back into its pins.

  Where was Nathan?

  He’d agreed—reluctantly—to accompany her to the informal musical gathering. Ben and Abby had already walked over, and she’d insisted Rachel go with them.

  But Nathan hadn’t shown up for supper, and now as the sun’s last rays were slipping over the horizon, he still hadn’t come for her. Had he changed his mind?

  Her hands shook and she attempted to calm herself by gazing up at the star-filled twilight sky. The sun’s last rays had disappeared behind the mountain range and left only a slight glow, highlighting its monstrous proportions.

  She was glad of the event. She’d known the trip would be arduous, but after the difficulties of the measles outbreak and the rockslide that had taken two lives… It would be nice to sit and enjoy the music and take her mind off all the things that could go wrong out here.

  Perhaps she’d crossed the line of ladylike behavior when she’d extended the invitation to Nathan earlier. Was that why he delayed?

  Something about Nathan put her at ease. She’d told him about the orphans she had left behind and now missed terribly. About her mother, memories from before Mama had passed. With Nathan, she was more herself than with any other male, but asking the question had been difficult for her. It was akin to asking him to come courting.

  Maybe her forwardness had put him off.

  She paced around the side of the wagon. The Millers’ fire several wagons over glowed in the near-darkness, but there was no sign of a tall, broad-shouldered figure striding toward her.