by Linda Ford
“But that’s different than marrying,” Polly insisted.
“I know. And I thought things would be different when I met Randolph and we fell in love. Or so I thought. But instead of marrying me as he promised, he went in search of gold.”
“He was not a good man then. But Warren is a good man. You know that.”
Warren’s voice whispered close to her ear. “Let’s see you deny that one while I shelter you from the storm.”
She smiled into the dark, her face pressed to Polly’s head. “He is a good man.” At the moment she trusted him completely, knew he would do everything in his power to protect them. “But he doesn’t want to settle down and get married. Neither of us do, so maybe you could stop thinking you can make us.”
“’Cording to Judith people sometimes have to get married even if they don’t want to.”
Polly words sent a jolt through Mary Mae and Warren stiffened.
“Exactly what did she say?” Warren’s voice had a sharp edge to it.
Polly squirmed at the sound of Warren’s voice but she couldn’t gain any space between herself and him. “She told me how she got lost and Gil found her and they were lost all night. In the morning, they had to get married.”
Mary Mae could feel Warren’s shock, an echo of her own.
She voiced a bit of her feelings. “Honey, do you mean you put us at risk of freezing to death simply because you want us to get married?” Not only that, but she was forcing Warren and Mary Mae to spend the night together and she knew how the others would react. She’d seen it with Judith and Gil.
“This time is different,” Warren said with a fierceness unlike his usual amiable self.
Mary Mae wondered if it was. But she certainly had no wish to be forced into marriage especially with a man who balked at the idea as angrily as Warren.
Warren fought an inner battle. Staying here would certainly precipitate reaction from the other campers. He could walk away and leave the two to manage on their own and thus safeguard Mary Mae’s reputation. Or he could stay here, protecting them, even knowing he might face the demands of his family as well as hers.
The decision didn’t require any real thought. He would not leave the pair in the cold. He tightened his arms about them. Whatever the consequences, he would protect them.
“Are you mad at me?” Polly’s voice was thin.
He hoped it was only worry that made it that way and not cold. His task now was to keep them alive. “I’ll forgive you so long as you stop this nonsense.” He waited for her answer. It came slowly and reluctantly.
“I’ll try.”
Mary Mae chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest and filling him with amusement, even though he was quite cross at Polly and her mischief.
“Honey,” Mary Mae said. “I think you will have to do better than that.”
“What if I can’t? What if I try but sometimes forget? You really can’t blame me for wanting a family, can you?” She let out a long sigh. “My dream is for a Christmas family. And you know I’ve been praying so hard for that.”
Warren couldn’t help but laugh at her reasoning. He tightened his arms about them. Mary Mae’s head nestled beneath his chin. Polly was warmly sheltered between them. “It might be a good thing to pray we make it through the night. I’m going to do that. I guess there’s no need to bow our heads or close our eyes.” Still he lowered his eyelids. “God in heaven, we know You see us. We ask You to protect us with Your loving arms.”
“Now God has two prayers to answer,” Polly said, and Warren didn’t say that he hoped his would take precedence over hers. Instead, he turned to engaging them in some word games. The night deepened and the cold intensified. He stopped feeling his toes, but between him and Mary Mae, Polly stayed reasonably warm.
He drifted, sleep calling, but he jerked back awake. “We have to stay awake.”
“Umm,” Mary Mae said.
“Polly, wake up.”
“I’m tired.”
“We can’t sleep.”
He jerked awake again. His arms were cold. His hands numb. But there was shared body heat. And the faintest of light. Morning was on its way.
And the sound of men calling.
“We’re here.” He didn’t move for fear of what he’d find when he brushed the snow off his coat and uncovered Mary Mae and Polly.
He called again and Frenchie broke through the bushes, snow cascading over Warren and those he’d protected throughout the night.
There were more men, but they waited outside the bush.
“Here ye be. All safe and sound.” Frenchie hunkered down. “Let’s have a look at how the little one is and the young lady.”
Warren held his breath as Frenchie lifted the coat.
Frenchie scooped Polly into his arms. “Are ye awake little one?”
“Is the storm over?” she asked.
“It is indeed. And that glad we be to see you.”
Mary Mae stirred at the intrusion of the cold.
Warren realized he held her to his chest, as intimate as if they were man and wife. Faintly he recalled Polly needing to empty her bladder and then curling up at Mary Mae’s side, the three of them spooned together. And they had all fallen asleep.
He scrambled to his knees, ignoring the pins and needles in his feet, doing his best to shake the snow away from Mary Mae. He would have hurried from the shelter but Frenchie pushed away carrying Polly. Warren couldn’t leave Mary Mae to struggle on her own and held out his hand to help her up. She grimaced. Her feet likely hurt. He indicated she should precede him from the shelter.
She scrambled through the tangled bushes and he followed, getting to his feet to face four men whose gazes went from him to Mary Mae. Frenchie wore a hard expression.
He didn’t need to be told they all judged him for spending the night with Mary Mae curled against his chest. But he would not have done anything else. To see her and Polly alive this morning was all that mattered.
Frenchie had wrapped Polly in a blanket. Pete draped a blanket around Mary Mae’s shoulders. No one offered Warren anything and he buttoned his coat and shivered.
Leading the way, the men hurried along the trail.
To Warren’s disgust, they had been three feet from the path back to the wagon train, though he might have looked for hours and not found it.
The snow beneath his feet had turned to slush and more fell from the branches, dropping on the ground, on his head and on his neck. He could only hope it wouldn’t be long until they reached the warmth of the fireplace and hot coffee.
His feet continued to protest, but at least they had feeling. For that, he was grateful. He sniffed. Smoke and coffee tingled his nose. And then they broke from the trees and before him was the wagon train. Snow lay against the wheels, but the sun had already melted the snow on the ground.
Frenchie rushed Polly to the fire and the care of the women.
Donna Grace and Luke hurried out to bring Mary Mae forward.
Judith, alone welcomed Warren. “Everyone is safe and sound.” He heard tears in her throat and knew how worried they all would have been last night.
“Praise God,” Reverend Shepton said and several, “Amens,” followed.
Warren made his way to the fire. Gil slapped him on the back and offered him coffee.
Frenchie stood back, a fierce look upon his face. “We find you together like dis.” He opened his arms and made a circle. “Miss Mary Mae, she be dishonored unless you do marry her.”
Warren didn’t answer. Didn’t look at Mary Mae. He stared at the contents of his cup. He knew it was coming to this and had decided he must do the right and proper thing.
“I’m prepared to marry her.”
Mary Mae bolted to her feet. “I am not getting married.”
9
Mary Mae’s feet tingled and she sat down again as a rumble of protests responded to her announcement.
Donna Grace sat on one side of her, Luke on the other. “But your reputation has bee
n compromised,” her sister said. “Who will marry you now?”
“Seeing as I don’t plan to marry, it is immaterial to me. Besides, all we did was huddle together to share body heat and protect Polly.” She nodded toward the child who enjoyed the attention and concern of Mrs. Shepton and Judith. “We did what had to be done and look at her. How can we be judged for that?”
“Unfortunately you are. Look around at these men. They all know what happened.”
She glanced at them and saw the hardness in their gazes. They had decided what should be done, but she shook her head. She wasn’t going to do it. “None of them would have done anything differently.”
Frenchie stepped forward. “The reputation is important, no?”
“Frenchie, I appreciate your concern, but I know that I have done nothing wrong and will not be forced into marriage.”
He rocked his head back and forth. “I know what it is I saw. You were sleeping together. No?”
“Keeping warm.” Up until now, Mary Mae had not looked at Warren, but now she did. “Thank you for protecting us and keeping us safe, and for being so noble to say you’ll marry me when I know you don’t want to, but I have to refuse your offer.”
Polly wailed and all eyes turned toward her. “Why not? That was why I pretended to get lost and pretended I hurt my ankle.”
“Polly!” Judith stared at the child.
“You might have all perished.” Donna Grace almost choked on the words and she squeezed Mary Mae to her side.
Buck joined them in time to hear Polly’s confession. “What you did was foolish and dangerous. As wagon master, I am in charge of getting everyone safely to our destination and your actions have endangered all of us. You must be disciplined.” He looked to Warren. “Do you agree?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ll decide the punishment.” Buck looked around the gathering—all the teamsters had joined them. All had been involved in searching for the missing three. The search had cost them time away from their own work.
Mary Mae knew Buck must do something in order to appease them and she wondered what he would decide.
He studied Polly for a moment before he spoke. “Until you are told otherwise, you will be confined to the wagon.”
“The back of the wagon?” Tears streaked Polly’s face.
“Yes.” Not a bit of giving in Buck’s voice.
“For how long?” Polly’s voice shook.
“I’ll let Warren make that decision.”
Polly turned to Warren. He looked thoughtful. “I’d say until this time tomorrow.”
Mary Mae held her breath, wondering how Polly would react.
“At least that way you won’t be causing anyone trouble.”
Mary Mae wondered if that would be true. A restless, confined Polly might be a challenge to those accompanying her, meaning herself and Warren. But Buck’s word must be obeyed.
The child swallowed hard. “Okay. And it was all for nothing. We just about die and still they won’t agree to marry.” She burst into tears.
Several of the spectators laughed nervously.
Mary Mae didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. The one thing she knew for certain—she wasn’t going to be forced into marriage to a man who didn’t want her, even if it would give her the right to keep Polly. Even if she knew Warren to be a good man… a man she thought she could trust. He didn’t want to marry. Didn’t want to settle down. He was at least honest about it.
The bigger problem was she had grown to care about him, and she knew it could only lead to disappointment, loss and pain when he left her to continue the life he had chosen. Best to close her heart tight and build impenetrable walls around it.
Buck continued to face Polly. “I must have your word that you will not do anything more to put any of us at risk.”
Polly studied the ground a moment then raised her head. “I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.”
“Then let’s be on our way as quickly as possible. I have no desire to linger in this weather.” Buck strode away.
Or any other weather, Mary Mae added, but then she didn’t blame him. His job was to see the wagon train safely across the vast land.
“You sit here,” Donna Grace said. “I’ll see to your breakfast.”
Mary Mae protested a bit, but then subsided. Seemed the best way to hurry things along was to agree. Across the fire, Judith tried to persuade Warren to sit while she served him but he refused.
“I’ll see to the animals.” His steps were measured as he followed the teamsters away.
Sore feet, she guessed. He’d kept her and Polly warm but at what cost? How would she make it up to him?
She ate the breakfast Donna Grace brought. Polly ate too, occasionally glowering at Mary Mae as if the whole fiasco was her fault.
Warm and fed, Mary Mae insisted on helping with the rest of the morning chores.
The sun shone. The snow turned to mud. Her whole life seemed to repeat the theme of cold and mud. Despite being safe, her insides were churned as if a hundred oxen had trampled through her heart.
She climbed to the wagon seat, glad to leave the place.
Warren sat beside her. Polly rode in the back, looking out the end of the wagon.
For some time they rode in an uncomfortable silence. As Mary Mae tried to think how to break it, Warren spoke.
“My offer of marriage stands.”
“That’s very generous of you, but not necessary. It’s not what either of us wants.”
He slumped over his knees. “I guess that’s so.”
If he would give any indication that his feelings had changed—
No, he had his reasons and she had hers.
Polly scrambled forward. “It’s all your fault that I’m stuck in this wagon.”
Warren rumbled his lips. “I don’t recall telling you to run off.”
“I did it ’cause you’re both so stubborn. If Uncle Sam was alive he would say you should both have long mule ears. Humph.” She sat back, but not so far they couldn’t hear her grumbling.
“What does a person have to do to get some people to see sense?” she muttered.
Mary Mae glanced at Warren, surprised to see him grinning. He met her gaze and his smile widened.
“At least we give her something to do,” he whispered.
Polly immediately bounced up to glare at them. “What did you say?”
“It was for Mary Mae’s ears only.” Warren smiled at the child to indicate he didn’t want to further upset her.
“Humph.”
“Would you like to read?” Mary Mae hoped to help Polly find something to amuse herself with.
“No.”
“Do you want me to show you how to make a quilt block of the trip?”
Interest flared in Polly’s eyes and then she shook her head. “I been on this trail often enough to have it up here.” She tapped her head.
“I suppose that is so.”
“Do you want to help drive the mules?” Warren asked.
Again, a spark of interest that was quickly quelled. “Uncle Sam let me do it lots of times.” She withdrew to the back of the wagon.
Mary Mae looked at her. “I wish we could make her happy.”
Warren grinned. “You mean by getting married?” He grew serious. “Would it be the worst thing in the world?”
Her mouth grew slack. Was he suggesting he wanted it? Would her answer be affirmative if he indicated he had changed his mind about marriage? But he hadn’t and neither had she. “Seems marriage is great for some people. We both have our reason for believing it’s not what we want. Besides I’m going to Santa Fe. You’re staying on the trail.”
“We travel well together.”
She had no idea what he meant. Was he suggesting they should marry and continue to travel back and forth? She had no wish to spend her life on the trail. Nor would it give Polly the home she needed and deserved.
Would marriage to Warren give Mary Mae the right to keep Polly and e
stablish a home in Santa Fe? Could she live as her mother had, waiting for a husband to return from several months absence only to bid him farewell again as soon as his wagons were loaded?
She couldn’t and wouldn’t. Like Polly, she wanted a real home, but not necessarily a husband and children. If she joined forces with Sophia she would share in the care of a child.
Only it wouldn’t be Polly.
How could she say goodbye to Polly when the trip ended? It pained her clear through to think of it.
Warren tried not to reflect on Mary Mae’s refusal of marriage to him. He respected her, even admired her, for not letting people push them into it simply because they had spent the night together. But far too many people knew of the incident and it would be impossible to leave the facts behind. Everywhere they went, if someone wanted to court her, the story would come out. His only reason for offering, was to protect her.
“People aren’t going to forget we spent the night together. Have you considered what that means to you in the future?”
“You mean a man might have second thoughts about marrying me? Seems to me, a man can have second thoughts even if no hint of scandal exists.”
“I’m sorry about Randolph.”
“He no longer matters.”
“Why is that?” Seems to him it did if she still made decision based on how he acted.
She stared down the trail. “Because I realize I don’t need a man to be happy.”
“That sounds lonely to me. Don’t you want children?”
She came round to face him. “Don’t you want a home and family?”
“With all my heart. But I’m not willing to take that risk.”
Her eyes blazed. “What risk? That life might not be all roses? That you might make mistakes? Isn’t a little rain necessary for roses to grow?”
He stared at her. Who was this woman challenging him as if she hadn’t heard the horrible mess he’d made of his life? “I don’t mind risks or I wouldn’t be freighting on the Santa Fe Trail. But it’s my risk. I haven’t the right to put others at risk.”
