Journey of Honor A love story

by Jaclyn M. Hawkes

  The only way she knew it was morning the next day was that there was a lighter strip of sky showing through the crack in the roof of the cave. The fire had long since burned down and, with the blanket over the opening, there was no other light to speak of. Outside of the covers it was cool and she decided to snuggle against Trace’s warmth for a minute before she got up to light the fire again. He moved in his sleep and gave a low groan, but when she talked to him, all he did was pull her tight into his arms and sigh.

  His strength, even in his sleep, nearly crushed her, but it was reassuring nonetheless. She pulled at his hands to get him to loosen up and then turned towards his chest and cuddled up to his body heat. She had had no idea that sleeping beside a husband would be this nice. It was incredible.

  She spoke to him, but he was more than just asleep still and only moved a little at her words. He had one iron arm around her waist and she gave up the idea of getting up just then and happily closed her eyes again to lie there. His chest against her cheek was deliciously comforting as she went back to sleep.

  It must have been an hour or more later that Trace tightened his hold and woke her up. She could hardly breathe and she tried to rouse him again. He still didn’t hear her talking to him and she took hold of his hands to try to loosen them. It almost felt like he was resisting her on purpose and he rolled over towards her. Then it was not only hard to breathe, but she could hardly move.

  “Trace.” She sighed and pushed against him. “Tracey. You’re squishing me!” She patted his face with both hands and he leaned into her neck and breathed against her throat. “Trace!” She started into him, talking fast, trying to get him to wake up and help her.

  Finally, she felt him kiss her neck softly and say,“English, Elle. English.” He finally rolled off slowly. “Giselle.” He moaned and put a hand to his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t understand Dutch.”

  She took a deep breath of air as he loosened his hold and rolled over. “Trace.” She leaned up to look at him. “Oh, Trace, I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”

  He grimaced and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure.” He looked all around. “Where are we?” He put the hand back to his head. “And why do I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head by a mule?”

  She bent to kiss the goose egg that was slowly going down. “Close enough. The mule tried to kill you, but it wasn’t a kick, it was the single tree that hit you. Yesterday morning, when we were trying to leave. Do you remember?”

  He started to shake his head and then groaned again. “I don’t remember a thing. We were out in the sage. How did we get here?” He looked around again at the cave walls.

  At first she started to explain everything, but she could see that he wasn’t very with it and just said, “I drove here. There’s been a terrible storm. Many Feathers helped me find these caves.” She started to push him away to get up and start the fire, but he took one of her hands and held it.

  “Don’t get up. Stay with me for a second.” She lay back down next to him and he said, “What were you saying just now? In Dutch? You didn’t sound very happy.”

  She shook her head against him. “I wasn’t unhappy. I just couldn’t breathe. You were holding me so tight and then rolled on me.”

  Slowly he lifted his arm and put it over her. “Sorry. I didn’t even realize.”

  “It’s okay, but you’re hard to move when you’re out of it. I had no idea you were so big. I couldn’t even move to get out from under your shoulder.”

  His breath was still against her neck when he said, “I’ve always been big. Mose was the only boy my age who was bigger than me.” He paused for a minute and then said absently, “I’m hungry.” With hardly a pause, he continued, “I think that I should learn to speak Dutch. Then I could understand what you say when you’re upset. You switch over and then go talking about lickety split and I never have a bit of an idea what you’re trying to tell me. I wish I knew Dutch.” He kissed her gently on the neck again.

  Wondering what in the world was going on with him, she sat up and looked at him. He rolled over to look at her blankly. “Do you have to leave, Elle? I was comfortable with you here.” His kissing flustered her completely and she decided she’d better get up now. She was relatively sure that he had no idea what he was even doing and she really wanted to kiss him back. When he was more with it, he’d probably be embarrassed if she did.

  She pulled back the covers, jumped up, wrapped a shawl around herself, and went over and rekindled the fire. When the fire was good and going, she put several more pieces of wood on it and hopped back under the covers again with Trace. He’d been watching her at the fire, and when she got back in, he said, “Put your feet over on me and get them warm.” He took both of her hands in his and rubbed them until they were warm. Then he pulled her tight against his chest with a little, happy sigh. “It’s nice to have you by me here, Elle.”

  This mellow, easy-going cuddliness almost made her a little wary. She loved it, but she wasn’t sure that he was very aware of what he was doing. That had been a pretty severe whack on the head. For a few more minutes, while the fire started to take hold of the wood, she worried. Then she decided that worrying wasn’t going to help anything and just enjoyed being cuddled while he was a bit looped. It wouldn’t hurt anything, and it was what she really wanted anyway. With that thought, she turned her back to him and leaned back into him so they were like spoons, and made a happy sound of her own.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t very long before Trace went back to sleep again, just long enough for him to stroke her shoulder and kiss her neck again several times. Just when she had decided she had to turn around to him and kiss him back, she felt him relax against her and begin to snore. She let out a big breath of frustration, pulled back the blankets, and slipped out of bed.

  The air in the second cave was still cool and Giselle dressed for the day warmly. Maybe being fully clothed would ward off some of the physical attraction that was thick in the cave this morning. When she was dressed, she sat down on the bed next to him to put on her stockings and boots, and found she was still tempted to climb back in and wake him up.

  Getting up with a sigh, she decided that having the bed as the only place to sit was probably more than foolish. Stranded here as they were, she decided that, just as soon as she had the stock cared for and breakfast ready, she would go out and wrestle her grandmother’s rocking chair out of the wagon and bring it inside to sit on.

  When she finally got out there to move the rocking chair in, she found that “wrestle” had been the operative word for sure. She hadn’t remembered the rocker being that hard to move when they’d loaded it last July. After struggling with it for more than half an hour, when she finally got it moved to the back of the wagon where their bed had been, she was breathing heavily. Just then, Trace poked his head through the wagon flaps. He looked at her, sitting there in the rocker, with her faced flushed from exertion, and asked, “What are you doing out here, Giselle? Are you okay?”

  Feeling a little foolish, she answered, “I’m just trying to get this rocker inside the cave to have something to sit on, but it’s grown a great deal since I helped load it in here. It’s been difficult to move and I had to stop and rest for a moment.”

  “Here, let me lift it for you.” She could almost have cussed him when he lifted it effortlessly. She followed him back into the cave and then back out to the wagon when he turned and went back out. He lifted their wooden, lidded grub box and brought it in as well. “It looks like we’re going to be here for a bit until the storm breaks. Might as well make it easier to cook and get things done.” He looked up at the low, ragged, gray sky. “How long have we been here? Have I been out for days, or has it snowed this much fast?”

  She gave the lowering storm ceiling a worried glance. “It started yesterday morning. We’ve been here since early yesterday afternoon, but there was nearly a foot by the time we got here. It’s just coming down heavy
and fast.”

  He seemed to mimic her worried look as he said, “I don’t think your wagon load is going to make it to your valley this fall, Elle. I’m sorry, but unless it stops snowing right now and gets warm in a hurry, this wagon is going to be stuck here awhile.” After setting the grub box near the fire in the corner, he went back into the next cave to look around. “How did you ever find this place? This is great!”

  Recounting what had happened after Trace was knocked cold, she ended with voicing her wish that she could have thanked Many Feathers and hoped he was somewhere warm and dry as well. Trace laughed. “That Indian is probably somewhere right close by, buttoned up as snug as we are, Elle. I doubt you need to worry about him. Where there’s one cave, there are probably several.”

  “Oh, good. He was so good to help me. I’ll quit worrying about him and just worry about finding feed for the mules and cows now. And about how we’re going to get through this much snow to get to the valley.”

  Trace put an arm around her shoulders. “Worrying isn’t going to help anything, Giselle. Let’s just do what we can and let the rest go. We’ll pack your stuff in here and wall off that back cave. Maybe, if we leave a medicine man’s talisman, it will still be here in the spring and we’ll come get it. Follow me and I’ll show you something. The animals are going to be fine. They’ll do the same thing the elk and deer do when the snow gets too deep to graze.”

  He took her to the front cave and she watched as indeed, the mules leaned their heads over the rope she had used as a corral and were nipping at the willows and bushes that grew nearby. “They’ll browse off the tender branches of the bushes just like an elk would. We’ll be fine. It’ll be a trip you’ll always remember, but we’ll be fine.”

  They went back into the second cave. He sat down on the grub box and stretched his hands to the fire. Rubbing the goose egg on the side of his head, he asked, “The single tree did this?”

  She nodded as she dished him up some of the breakfast she had left warming. “That sweet-natured mule lunged just as you went to hook up the trace. You landed almost under its back feet, right in front of the wagon wheel. I was terrified you would be killed. Then I couldn’t move you. You weigh several thousand pounds, I’m afraid. I finally got you away from the mule and the wheels, but I couldn’t lift you into the wagon for anything, even with my grandfather’s pulleys and ropes. If Many Feathers hadn’t come and lifted you, we’d still be sitting there in the sage, with you buried in the snow by now. His showing up was an answer to my prayers.”

  Trace stretched and groaned. “My head hurts, but so does the rest of me. I feel like I was run over by the wagon.”

  Giselle smiled up at him sweetly. “That would be because Many Feathers threw you into and out of the wagon like a sack of flour. He helped me, but it was none too gentle. If I hadn’t been so incredibly grateful for him lifting you at all, I would have been outraged. He pretty well just dumped you in and then dumped you back out onto the floor there.” She pointed.

  Groaning again, Trace laughed. “I am his competition after all.” He finished his breakfast and then climbed back into the bed to stretch out. Within minutes he was out again and she was back to square one of trying to get her mind on other things than him lying there. She dug out the knitting she had been struggling with this whole trip. If they were going to walk or ride the mules out, heavy stockings were in order.

  She tried to untangle the needles and yarn and couldn’t help smiling to herself as she did it. There was no doubt that any stockings she succeeded in knitting would make for interesting wearing, that was for sure. It was a good thing warmth didn’t depend on how something looked or she would be in trouble.

  She had been up and cooking for a while when Trace lifted his head again. The goose egg was down, but that look in his eyes when he looked at her was still there, and Giselle was sure that bringing the rocker in had been a good idea. When he got up, he surprised her by going out and bringing in Petja’s table and chairs as well. He set them up on the other side of the fire and said, “We might as well use them while we’re here since they need to be brought in and stored anyway.”

  That was the first time they had ever sat across the table from each other to eat, and it was a surprisingly nice dinner there in the cave together. It was nice enough that she almost wished they could just stay there indefinitely and not have to face hiking out and telling each other goodbye.

  That goodbye was on her mind again when she lay down next to him that night at bedtime. She was torn between enjoying his closeness and warmth and worrying that she should keep her distance and try to protect her heart from being crushed when the time came. Deciding that Trace had been right, that worrying wouldn’t help and that she was already going to be crushed, she snuggled over against him in spite of herself. When he turned and gathered her close, there was no hope of staying away anyway.

  He was still slightly out of it and she woke up late in the night, nearly strangled in his arms. When she tried to loosen his grip, he sighed and leaned his head to begin kissing her neck again. This time, she was far too tempted and got clear up and stoked the fire. What was she going to do about him? She ended up wrapping a quilt around herself and attempting to knit by the firelight. Knitting helped. She was terrible at it even when there was good light. Between trying to concentrate on what she was doing, and trying not to laugh at the mess she was creating, she was somewhat able to forget about Trace’s kisses.

  He woke her there in the rocker the next morning. He was rubbing her neck and shoulders. “What are you doing up in the chair, Elley? Were you having trouble sleeping?” She nodded sleepily and he asked, “Are you worrying about the snow?”

  He was watching her and she wondered what to tell him. “No. Not the snow, exactly.”

  He leaned down next to her chair. “What then exactly?” His voice was gentle and she worried he could read her mind and she dropped her eyes.

  “Oh, just things, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. I’m not sure I like having a chair in here after all. You’ve never left me in bed to go worry by yourself before. Are we not good enough friends that you can tell me what’s wrong?”

  She looked up, hesitating, and then leveled with him. “You’re just very affectionate when you have a head injury. I’m not entirely sure how to take you is all. I’m sure when you feel better you’ll be back to normal.”

  Still meeting her eyes steadily, he asked, “What did I do?”

  She shrugged and dropped her eyes once more. “It’s nothing really. You’re just more snuggly than normal. It makes me worry about how I’m going to tell you goodbye.”

  “What did I do, Elle?” She went to shrug again and he asked more earnestly, “Did I offend you?”

  “No!” She hurried to reassure him. “No, Trace. You just kiss me in your sleep sometimes and it makes me want to kiss you back. When you’re back to normal, it would embarrass you, I’m sure, so I just had to get up so that I didn’t… So that… I just had to get up is all. We’re friends, I promise. I just worry. Telling you goodbye is going to be hard as it is.” He stayed there beside her chair, searching her face for a few seconds and then stood up.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry I make you worry, Elle. Please forgive me. I’ll try to do better.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think the problem lies with you, Trace. It’s just me. We’re fine, I promise.”

  He leaned back down and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I know we’re fine, Elle. We always have been. We always will be. But don’t feel like you have to get up to get away from me. Just elbow me or something, and I’ll straighten up.”

  It wasn’t exactly that easy, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She smiled. “Okay, Trace. I’ll elbow you. What would you like to eat this morning?” She began to roll her yarn around her work and the needles.

  He took it from her and unrolled it, and with a twinkle in his eye, asked her, “What exactly is it that you’re m
aking?”

  Knowing the glob of light pink yarn was completely unrecognizable, she sweetly smiled and replied, “Some lovely, warm stockings for you, Trace. I want you to be nice and warm for our trek out. You’re going to love them!”

  He laughed and rolled the whole mess up again. “I’m sure that I will. Are they going to be finished in time?”

  Still smiling sweetly, she assured him, “Absolutely. I will work very hard to have them done for you. Wait and see.” He chuckled and shook his head as he built up the fire.

  Theirs had been a good theory, but bringing herself to elbow Trace that night in his sleep was next to impossible. Giselle had actually started to kiss him back before she caught herself and quickly got up and escaped to her rocker again. She was careful to be up and working by the time Trace awoke so she didn’t have to face him about running away again, but she knew that he knew something was up by the way he watched her warily that morning. She was almost shy around him today and didn’t want to have to admit why. By mid-afternoon she was decidedly tired, and when he sat at the table with Josiah’s journal, she climbed back into their bed with a sigh for a nap.

  He was still at the table, completely engrossed in the book when she woke up and she was surprised that he would be so interested in a book that was written in Dutch. When he realized she was awake, he started to ask her questions again about the Church, and all that had transpired between their first meeting with the missionaries on a trip to England, and the time they ended up in St. Joseph, Missouri, ready to start across with the wagon train. For nearly two hours they sat like that, talking, until she finally got up and went outside to milk the cow. The bushes near the mouth of the cave were stripped to nothing, so she came back in and got a knife and went back out into the storm to cut branches and bushes for the stock to chew on. Trace appeared a minute or two later to help her, and in short order, they had the stock fed and bedded down again.