Wagon Train Sweetheart (Journey West 2)

by Lacy Williams

  Nathan cleared his throat. “The truth is, I’ve come to…deeply admire your sister. Emma,” he amended, so there was no confusion. Admiration didn’t properly express the depth of his feelings for Emma, but he had no intention of admitting he loved Emma to her brother first.

  Ben crossed his arms over his chest, his brows drawn low over his eyes. He glanced at McCullough and back at Nathan. McCullough’s expression remained stern, unsmiling.

  Nathan blew out a breath heavy with tension. “Emma is…amazing. You know.” He directed the words at Ben, but he was sure Tristan had sensed it, as well.

  “And she deserves to be with someone she loves,” he finished.

  “Does she love you?” Ben asked bluntly.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? Nathan shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. But I intend to find out. And I’d like your blessing to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

  “But…” Ben shot another glanced at Tristan, who finally moved.

  He took a step toward Nathan and Nathan’s hackles rose, but he remained where he was, hands relaxed at his side.

  “I didn’t come out here looking for a love match,” the sheriff said. To Ben, he said, “If she loves Reed, I’ll bow out.” Then he turned his intense gaze on Nathan again. “But if she doesn’t have feelings for you, my goal to get to know her on the rest of the journey remains.”

  Nathan looked to Ben, who still stood with a slightly perplexed look on his face, as if he had never even considered that Nathan might notice Emma.

  “I had a lot of guilt from my past that Emma and God have helped me resolve. But I can promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to be the man who will make Emma happy.”

  And very slowly, Ben nodded.

  * * *

  Emma shook, literally trembling all over as she stood half-hidden behind the wagon.

  She watched Tristan where he stood amid a group of other travelers, in conversation. She’d heard the wagon master pass by moments ago, saying they were getting ready to pull out after the break.

  She’d intended to talk to Tristan in private while they were stopped, but a mother had brought her little boy who’d had a huge, jagged splinter embedded in one palm. Once she’d got the splinter out, Emma had had a hard time stopping the bleeding.

  Rachel had been impatiently murmuring about something and then disappeared, but Emma had paid her little mind.

  And then Emma had had to bandage the wound and now there was no privacy to be found with Tristan.

  Her heart thundered in her ears. She could always go—interrupt—and fetch him.

  She didn’t want to wait until they stopped for the evening to speak to Tristan. Because tonight she intended to tell Nathan how she felt about him.

  And if they were getting ready to pull out, her time to speak to Tristan was dwindling.

  What was the worst that could happen? She would suffer embarrassment while everyone watched her ask to speak to Tristan.

  Was Nathan worth a bit of embarrassment on her part?

  Absolutely.

  She took one step on a leg shaking so badly it felt like jelly. Then another.

  He was in profile to her and didn’t see her approach. The two men at his side looked up at her, curiosity showing in their expressions. Heat flamed in her chest and rose into her neck and face.

  “Excuse me. Tristan?”

  The tentative whisper that emerged wouldn’t do. He hadn’t heard her at all, though another head turned her direction and her palms began to sweat.

  She forced strength into her voice, though she felt anything but strong. “Tristan.”

  Now his head turned toward her, his eyes familiar and friendly, but she felt nothing for him. “May I speak to you? In private?”

  He excused himself and followed her away from the group. She thought she heard him murmur, “Not you, too.” What did that mean?

  She marched away from the group of people, past the wagon to the edge of the rocky incline that led back down the mountain.

  When she turned back to him, he’d taken off his hat and held it against one leg. And if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a very slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Did he somehow suspect what she was going to say to him?

  “I—I wanted to say how very flattered I am that you came all this way to meet me.” Her voice trembled and she took a breath to steady herself. Unfortunately, it gave him time to speak.

  “And to help with the wagon train,” he said gently.

  She fumbled for words. Took another deep breath. It didn’t help.

  “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, and hearing stories about your daughters.” She swallowed hard. His eyes glinted, but he didn’t look away from her and his patience, his intensity, made it that much harder to say the rest. “And I admire that you want to find a mother for your children.”

  He seemed to brace himself, just slightly, as she finished, “But I am not that woman.”

  “I see.” His jaw had tightened a minuscule amount. If she hadn’t been watching so closely, she might not have noticed.

  “I count you as a friend,” she went on, but she doubted it made it any better. “It’s just…I have feelings for…I feel very strongly about…”

  “You’re in love with someone else,” he said with a bluntness that sent heat up her spine.

  She’d admitted it to Rachel. She suspected Clara knew, but Tristan was a spurned suitor, she supposed.

  She simply nodded because she wasn’t ashamed of it.

  He looked at her for a long moment, taking her measure and she had the sense that he was accepting her words.

  Tristan mashed his hat on his head, muttering something about Rachel.

  “What? What did you say?”

  Now she was sure he was blushing. “Nothing.”

  “It wasn’t nothing. Something about Rachel.” She crossed her arms, wondering what her impatient, impudent sister had done. If his embarrassment was any indication, maybe Emma should be the one embarrassed.

  “She confronted me earlier and mentioned the same. That you were in love with your Mr. Reed.”

  Beneath his breath, he muttered, but this time she didn’t call him on it.

  Had Rachel thought Emma would lose her nerve? Was that why she’d confronted Tristan? Waves of emotion flowed through Emma. She didn’t know whether to be thankful for her little sister or embarrassed.

  She could only hope Rachel hadn’t confronted Nathan!

  “You’ll have to forgive her for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. My sister can be…”

  “Brash?” He offered the word with a raise of his eyebrows, as if daring her to contradict him. “Impertinent?”

  “Protective,” Emma put in. “She has the best of intentions.”

  “She wants to see you happy.” He smiled a little at that, though there was a subtle strain beneath it. “I cannot fault her for that. And I would never stand in the way of love. I had it with my wife, and…”

  His voice trailed off and she saw his Adam’s apple bob as if he had swallowed hard. His eyes cut away, looking off in the distance.

  Compassion stirred in her breast for what he’d lost. She couldn’t think about how she would feel if she lost Nathan, and Tristan had years with his wife to build their love.

  “I’m truly sorry that I can’t marry you.”

  “Don’t be.” He visibly pulled himself out of his thoughts with an intake of breath. “I wish you the best. And I’m certain we’ll still have the chance to be friends. Ben has become a good friend to me, as well.”

  She noted he did not mention Rachel.

  The wagons began moving and he motioned her back toward the caravan. “Come along. We don’t want to be left behind.”

  And that was that
.

  Her knees were still shaking as they walked back to the now-moving caravan and she rejoined Rachel. Her sister shot her a questioning glance and with Tristan still in earshot, all Emma could do was glare at her. She would save the set down for her sister later. Nosing into Emma’s private business like that!

  Nathan pushed the Binghams’ oxen past, sitting tall on the back of one of the animals. Their gazes met and held. Had he seen her speaking with Tristan?

  But he didn’t look angry, he looked… He smiled at her and her thoughts fled. It wasn’t a huge grin, a baring of his teeth. It was a small smile by all accounts, but for Nathan, it was something she’d rarely seen.

  And a stark contrast to how he’d avoided her entirely this morning.

  Had something happened?

  Now that they were on the trail again, any discussion between them would have to wait.

  But her impatience knew no bounds. She wanted things settled between them.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emma shuddered as she considered the imposing cliff face only hours after they had conquered the first. At least thirty feet, nearly straight up.

  The family wagon had already been lifted—without mishap—but Nathan remained at the bottom of the cliff as the Binghams’ wagon was tied off with strong ropes in preparation to be lifted.

  She could admit, if only to herself, that she was glad the journey was nearing its end. After the caravan crossed the Blue Mountains, they had only a short time left until they would reach Oregon City.

  She had faced many of her fears out here on the prairie. Lived through storms with only a thin sheet of canvas as protection from the elements. Mostly overcame her fear of speaking up in a public setting.

  Her family had made it this far without injury. It was much to be thankful for. And she couldn’t wait to see Grayson.

  And start a new life, with Nathan at her side.

  She desperately wanted to speak to him, to tell him how she felt. But she also didn’t want him distracted on this particular leg of the journey.

  The men at the top of the cliff began hefting the Binghams’ wagon. It rose a foot off the ground, then another.

  Nathan called out—she couldn’t hear his words—and one corner of the wagon slipped. A rope snapped.

  The men on the top of the cliff didn’t hear him.

  He shouted again and Emma couldn’t breathe as he rushed to steady the wagon that now wobbled.

  A second rope broke with a sound like a whip and a scream rose in her throat.

  Nathan disappeared behind the wagon. She lost sight of all but his dark hair, and then another rope snapped and the wagon fell with a loud crash.

  “Nathan!” The cry was ripped from her lips and her feet carried her forward before she had even considered moving.

  Had Nathan been crushed by the falling wagon? If he’d suffered internal injuries, there was no doctor here to help—

  Her thoughts rioted as several men swarmed over the fallen wagon. Ben scrambled down the embankment feet away, sending a small spill of rocks falling loose.

  Why hadn’t she told him she loved him before?

  Her breaths came in short gasps. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell all the men to move so she could see the man she loved.

  And then she did get a glimpse of Nathan, pinned between the broken wagon and the sheer rock wall.

  His face was creased with pain, but he was alive!

  She pressed her fingers against her trembling lips. He was alive.

  Almost as if he sensed her nearby, he looked up, his dark gaze boring straight into her.

  “I’m fine,” he mouthed to her.

  Her heart pattered hard against her breastbone. Of course he would say that. He was trying to comfort her and couldn’t know the extent of his injuries when he was still pinned in place.

  She wiped a hand across her face and discovered tears tracking down her cheeks.

  It seemed so silly now, that she hadn’t had the gumption to tell him that she loved him last night when he’d tried to push her at Tristan. What, she’d been afraid to be the first one to speak? Even knowing how Nathan’s past had shaped him, had made him afraid of getting too involved.

  Well, she was afraid now. Afraid she would never get the chance.

  I love you, she mouthed to him, tears still running down her face.

  She was ready to shout it, uncaring who might hear.

  He must’ve taken her meaning because his expression shifted. His face almost crumpled, and then the men were moving the wagon and someone stepped between them, blocking her view.

  The conveyance shifted and then Ben pulled Nathan free, lugging the taller, broader man with Nathan’s arm slung over her brother’s shoulder.

  Nathan’s color was good.

  She met the two men a good piece away from the fallen wagon—men were already working at getting it out of the way so it could be repaired, and more wagons waited to be toted up the cliff.

  “All right?” Ben asked as he lowered Nathan to the ground.

  “I think so,” Nathan replied as she knelt next to him.

  “I saw the rope unraveling but—”

  “They didn’t hear your shouts at the top until it was too late,” Ben said. He sighed. “I told Abby’s pa he needed to lighten his wagon…”

  His voice trailed off but her brother didn’t have to finish. They all knew Abby’s mother had packed the wagon, and after her death on the trail, Bingham had refused to part with the items that held her memory—all of them.

  Emma stopped listening to the men speak of inane things. She had to make sure Nathan was all right.

  She touched his nearest arm first, running both hands down the length of it. Then reached across his torso for his other arm, pressing with her fingertips from shoulder to his fingers.

  She ran her hands down his legs, demanded he bend his knees and rotate his ankles.

  He did so, looking down on her with what she would call on anyone else a bemused smile. It wasn’t something she was used to seeing on him.

  He had a scrape across one cheek and just looking at it made her eyes fill with tears as Ben faded away into the background.

  “Does your chest hurt?” she asked, still worried about an injury she couldn’t see. “Does your stomach pain you?”

  “Here,” he said, taking her hand and placing her palm over his heart.

  Her breath caught. She could feel the muscle pounding beneath her fingertips.

  “But I don’t think this pain will ever go away.”

  * * *

  Nathan’s pulse tripped, sending vestiges of adrenaline from the wagon crashing atop him through his veins.

  Or maybe it was just being near Emma.

  He could still feel pain radiating throughout his body from his rib cage—likely he’d bruised a rib or maybe even cracked one—but it barely registered, with her here, with her hand beneath his, pressed again his heart.

  He was flying above the ground because of the words she had given him.

  I love you.

  Could he have really seen what he thought she’d said to him, albeit silently? She loved him?

  He felt as though he was on Hewitt’s horse again, getting ready to plunge into the river rapids. He didn’t know what to expect, chaos and danger to pull him under.

  But he did it. He dove off.

  He cleared his throat. “It’s never going to go away because I’m never going to stop loving you.”

  The tears standing in her blue eyes overflowed and he dared to reach up and cradle her face in his hand. “Emma—”

  She leaned forward and kissed him, a tender brush of her lips that wasn’t enough, before she sat back on her heels.

  “I love you, too, Nathan.�
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  She had said it. Aloud. He didn’t have to guess. And the knowledge filled him with a quiet joy that he knew would never leave.

  He reached for her, but a sharp pain from his ribs made him inhale and abort the motion.

  She frowned at him. “You are injured.”

  He exhaled a long breath that eased the pain some. “It’s nothing. Maybe a bruised rib.”

  She began poking his ribs with her fingers, muttering, “Bruised rib or you’re bleeding internally and might die…”

  She hit a tender spot on his left side and he gasped, grabbing her hand in his to stop her.

  When her eyes flicked up to his face, he saw the apology in their depths. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “I’m not going to die,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. “I’m too stubborn for that, or I would’ve already passed from the measles, or drowned, or been shot by an Indian.”

  She sniffled slightly, and he used her hand to tug her into the curve of his arm, ignoring the sharp flare of fire in his ribs. Some things were just worth the pain.

  He rubbed his chin against the softness of her hair. “You really love me?”

  She nodded, her cheek against his shoulder. “I couldn’t help it. You saw me. You listened to me.”

  “We saw each other,” he murmured.

  There was a part of him that couldn’t believe this was happening. That couldn’t believe his good fortune, that God would bless him with a woman like Emma, who loved him back.

  “I’ll need some time to get settled once we get to Oregon City. Find a steady job so I could support a…family, before we get married.”

  He could hardly believe he’d said the words.

  “Are you asking me to marry you?”

  “Not very well.” He breathed in deeply, ignoring the pain in his rib. He pushed her away slightly, so he could look down into her face. “Emma, I love everything about you. I know you could find a much better man than me—” like McCullough “—but I’ll do my best to be worthy of you. Will you marry me?”

  A small smile played around her lips. “Yes. And I won’t hear this nonsense about you not being worthy. You’ve proven your character many times since we’ve met. I’ll be proud to be your wife.”