by Linda Ford
They walked along under the overhang of the rooms above. The place bustled with activity. William Bent did a brisk trade with the Indians that came to the fort, receiving furs in trade for European goods.
“What will you do if there isn’t anything left?” Luke asked.
They stopped near the ice house. A quick glance inside revealed Mary Mae’s friend, Greta. Warren turned back to his conversation with Luke. He’d need wagons and goods to take to Santa Fe and trade.
“You’ll be selling a wagon or two, won’t you? Can I buy them?”
Luke gripped Warren’s hand. “If that’s what you need.”
They sauntered on by.
Warren was satisfied with the progress of his plans. He’d buy wagons from Luke to carry goods to Santa Fe. He’d ask Mary Mae to be his wife. He would take her to Santa Fe. They’d find her friend and get her settled or persuade her to go with them. He hoped that they could go there and be back in time to join the others.
He glanced toward the mountains. A man on horseback might make it across, but not a wagon. Besides, he had no intention of putting Mary Mae and Polly in such danger.
Mary Mae pressed to the corner of the icehouse. Warren hadn’t seen her there. Didn’t know she heard his conversation. He was buying Luke’s wagons. Adding them to his own or whatever he could salvage from them. Clearly, he meant to keep on freighting.
She’d thought he meant to go west and make a home.
She’d hoped to find a way to inform him that she, too, could go west.
Even if he still thought she was going to Santa Fe, it was plain to her that he didn’t see her in his future.
She carried the pain of her discovery throughout the day. By evening she had decided what she would do. She spoke to Sophia. “Why don’t you and I join forces and travel west with the others?”
“Would they let us? Won’t they want us to have a man to help?”
Mary Mae tried to think otherwise, but did wonder if Luke and Gil would be as stubborn as Buck had been. “We can surely find someone who wants to go west and will drive our wagon.”
“Okay. Then let’s plan for that.”
“I’ll tell Donna Grace.” She waited until she saw her sister sitting outside on a bench to approach her.
“Greta and I have agreed we’d like to go west with you and Luke and the others.”
Donna Grace studied her a long time without answering.
Mary Mae did not blink away from her intensity. Why wasn’t she agreeing eagerly?
Finally her sister spoke. “What about Warren and Polly?”
“What about them? He’s making his own plans and Polly will have to fit in with them. I have to make my own plans.” The sound of booted feet coming from the corrals drew her attention that direction.
Warren.
Had he heard her?
From the way he looked at her, unsmiling and sullen, she knew he had. Just how much had he heard?
Not that it mattered. She was not part of his future. Nor had she expected to be. She shouldn’t have been so foolish as to fall in love with him.
How would she endure the pain of going their separate ways?
She managed to smile and nod at him as he passed. Just as she managed to be polite to him when they saw each other throughout the day. But by the time she retired to her room for the night, she felt like she couldn’t face him one more time.
Polly had joined Mary Mae and Sophia, though Mary Mae did her best to think of her friend as Greta. Polly sat cross-legged on the sleeping mat, her arms crossed over her chest. “Why are you and Warren fighting?” she demanded.
“Fighting?” Mary Mae managed to keep her voice neutral. “Why we’ve hardly spoken a word to each other.”
“That’s one way of fighting,” Polly said with such conviction that Greta chuckled.
“Maybe we don’t have anything more to say to each other.”
Polly grunted. “Why don’t you both see how much you love each other and get married just like I wanted from the very first?”
Greta laughed outright. “They love each other?” she asked Polly.
“Everybody knows it, but they’re too stubborn to admit it.”
Mary Mae looked past Polly and pretended she didn’t feel Greta’s demanding gaze.
“If you love him, why aren’t you going to marry him?” Greta asked.
“Humph,” Polly added. “Too stubborn.”
“No, it’s not stubbornness. It’s simply that we want different things. He lives on the trail. I want a home.”
“He told Luke he’s going west with them. Told me we’re going to have a home.” Polly’s words seared through Mary Mae’s heart.
“He told you that?”
“He might have told you too if you ever talked to him.”
“What about his wagons?” She knew what she’d heard.
“If there’s anything left in them, he’s going to sell it and use the money to start over. And if there isn’t anything left, Luke said he would sell him a wagon or two for the trip west. At a bargain price, of course.”
That was the conversation she’d overheard and it made sense when she heard all the details.
She groaned and leaned forward in an attempt to stifle the pain grabbing her.
“Are you sick?” Greta asked.
“Heart sick. He’s making plans to go west when he thinks my plans are to go to Santa Fe to find my friend.”
Greta held Mary Mae’s gaze. “Then you must tell him the truth.”
“What’s the point?” He’d made his wishes clear. He didn’t consider her part of his future. “I’m going to sleep.” She lay down and pulled the woolen blankets close.
Polly grunted her displeasure before she did the same.
Greta sat up. “There’s something wrong with this story. Like you’re missing a piece of it.”
“Seems pretty clear to me.”
“Polly’s right. You need to talk to him.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
Greta settled back on her pallet. “Just tell me one thing.” She didn’t wait for Mary Mae to say if she would or not. “Has the man ever given you reason not to trust him?”
Mary Mae didn’t answer. What did trust have to do with anything? Except to believe what he said about not wanting to get married and believe his intentions that he planned to go west believing she couldn’t go?
The next morning, her head felt stuffed. Too many confusing thoughts. Too many dashed dreams. She watched Warren cross the yard and wished he would explain himself.
Except she didn’t want to hear excuses.
She had to think this through. “I’m going to walk to the river. I need to think,” she told Sophia.
Her friend grinned. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Mary Mae left the shelter of the fort, drawing her coat tighter around her against the cold. The trees were bare-limbed, the grass crunchy dry. She walked until she found a fallen tree and sat down, her elbows to her knees and her chin in her palms.
What did she want? That was easy. She wanted to share her life with Warren. Wanted a home. Wanted to go with the others when they went west. Wanted to give Polly a home.
Most of all, she wanted to be free to love Warren and have him love her back.
Was any of it possible?
Only if she went with Warren. She could love him. Perhaps in time he would learn to love her. But either way, they could build a life together. They’d already spent enough time together that she knew they got along.
Was she willing to risk rejection in order to get what she wanted?
She stared at the water flashing past as the truth began to drift through her.
She would tell him she didn’t have to go to Santa Fe and see what his reaction was. And if he made it clear he wasn’t interested in partnering with her as man and wife, she would go with Greta and the others. And if he also went, she would continue to see him as a friend.
Small consolation, but bette
r than going to Santa Fe and living alone.
Better to risk everything in the hopes of getting something in return than to do nothing and get nothing.
15
“Warren. Warren.” Polly’s voice, thin and laced with fear, brought Warren out of the blacksmith shop where he was arranging for wagon repairs.
“Polly, what’s wrong?”
The child ran the length of the porch and launched into his arms. “Mary Mae is gone.”
“Gone?” He shifted Polly to one side and looked around. “She was here this morning.”
“She left.”
“How? Where?” There weren’t many places to go and less ways of leaving.
“She told Donna Grace she was going to walk to the river, but that was ages ago and she hasn’t come back. Something awful must have happened.”
He set Polly on her feet. “You stay here. I’ll go look for her.” Wolves and men who weren’t much better than animals abounded. He lengthened his stride as he left the fort and made his way toward the river. The bare trees provided little place for a person to be out of sight and yet he didn’t see her. He looked to the right and left, trying to decide which way to go. A flicker of movement caught his attention to the right and he jogged that direction, relieved when he saw her.
She looked up at his approach. “Good. You’re here. I want to say something.” She moved over to make room beside her on the log.
“I have something to say, too. But you go first.”
“Warren, I don’t need to go to Santa Fe anymore.” She watched him, as if expecting the announcement would mean more to him than it did.
“Why is that?”
“My friend no longer needs me there. Greta told me.”
“Okay. I guess that’s good. So what are you going to do?”
“Greta and I are planning to go west with the others.” Still that watchfulness that made him aware that he had missed something.
“Good. That’s good. Then I’m going west, too.”
“Okay.”
That was it? No, that wasn’t it. It was time to be honest, completely honest, with her. He turned to face her full on, letting her gaze search his as deeply as she wanted. “I was prepared to go to Santa Fe with you. Or wherever you had to go.”
“You were? Why?”
He took her hands. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.”
“Mary Mae, I want to make a home with you.”
“Polly will be happy.”
Her answer did not satisfy. “I want you to be happy, too.”
“Of course I am. It is the best thing for her.”
“Mary Mae, I am not doing this for Polly. I’m doing it for me. For you.”
She held his gaze without blinking.
“Don’t you get it? I want you in my life.”
Still no evidence she understood.
If he hadn’t been holding her hands, he would have banged the heel of his hand to his forehead. Of course, she didn’t understand because he didn’t come right out and say it.
“Mary Mae, I want you to marry me because I love you and can’t imagine a future without you.”
She blinked. Swallowed loudly.
“I know it’s difficult for you to trust me, but I promise I will take care of you and love you to the best of my ability. However, I have to be honest. I might disappoint you at times. I wish I could guarantee otherwise, but my failings haunt me.”
A smile lit her eyes and tugged at her mouth. “Warren Russell, I trust you enough to cross the continent with you and to head into an unknown future. We’ll both make mistakes, but I promise I will not do things to intentionally hurt you, nor will I expect you to do for me the things I can do for myself.”
He drank of the promises she made. And realized something she made clear. Gina had expected him to take care of her even when she could take care of herself. It had placed an unnecessary burden on their relationship. He knew Mary Mae would never be demanding. He grinned. She might be a little too independent at times.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
“Yes, I will.”
He wrapped his arms about her and pulled her close, but didn’t claim the kiss he wanted because there was something he wanted even more. He searched her dark eyes. “You are so beautiful.”
“And you are so strong and handsome. Is it any wonder I love you so much?”
His laugh began deep in his chest. “You love me?”
She smiled. “Why else would I marry you?”
“Indeed. Why else?” He caught her lips, finding them warm and giving, just as she was.
A little later they made their way back to the fort his arm about her, her hand clasped in his.
Polly waited in the doorway. When she saw them, she cheered. “I finally get my wish.” She ran to them.
Warren swept her up in his arms. “I think we all get what we want. I know I do.” He planted a kiss to Polly’s forehead and meant to do the same for Mary Mae, but she lifted her face and his kiss landed on her lips.
Polly sighed. “Just as I dreamed it would be.”
Epilogue
They gathered in the dining room where the tables had been pushed out of the way. Mary Mae and Warren stood side by side. Mary Mae wore her mother’s mantilla. They faced Reverend Shepton and repeated their vows.
Their witnesses were those they had travelled with.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the reverend said. “You may kiss your bride.”
Mary Mae made sure to keep the kiss short, though she longed to cling to his lips, just as she clung to his love and his promises.
“About time you two did this,” Luke said, clapping Warren on his back. “We were beginning to think you’d never get to it.”
Donna Grace hugged Mary Mae. “I hope you’ll be as happy as I am.”
Greta hugged Mary Mae, too. Her eyes filled with sadness. “I wish you all the best.”
Polly stepped outside. “It’s snowing.” She dashed out into the falling snow, spinning round and round. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
Right on cue, the teamsters marched past, singing. The first of the processions leading up to Christmas celebrations. Mary Mae and Warren and the others fell in behind them. In the big archway of the entrance, hung a piñata.
Polly squealed. “Just like I dreamed it would be.” Frenchie handed her a stick and they all cheered as she hit the piñata until it burst open spilling out colorful beads and little gifts.
Warren drew Mary Mae aside and dug into his pocket. He held out his hand. In the palm was a nugget of gold. “I once offered you a pebble for your thoughts. Now I’m offering you this gold. I want you to know your thoughts are more important to me than gold or possessions.”
She took the nugget and held it between her finger and thumb as she had the pebble. No one had ever valued her enough to value her thoughts so highly. Her eyes stung with happy tears. “Is it any wonder that I love you so fiercely?”
He wrapped his arms around her, turned so they faced west. “I can’t wait until we have a home and family together.”
Mary Mae nodded, her heart too full to answer.
Sneak peek of Wagon Train Christmas
Sophia Lorenzo was about to step from her room on the second level of Bent’s Fort when she glimpsed a familiar figure approaching… the wagon master from the wagon train that had recently arrived… a friend of her now-dead husband. She drew back into the shadows of her room, her heart pounding, and waited for the man to pass. She held little Maxie to her shoulder. “Shh. Shh.” But her son wanted to go outside to play and he chattered excitedly. At just over a year old, he liked to be on his feet, moving about.
I’m Greta Stern now and Maxie is Cole, she reminded herself. She’d picked the names out of the air, though likely she’d heard them somewhere in the past.
Buck Williams stopped at the sound of Maxie’s voice. “Someone sounds happy,” he called from outside the room.
> Sophia wished she’d thought to close the door but she hadn’t expected to see him. Since the arrival a few days ago of the travelers and traders on the wagon train he’d guided from Independence, Missouri, he spent most of his time with the men outside the Fort by the wagon train.
“Yes.” She spoke quietly, hoping he would move on. “He’s good-natured.” At least she was alone in the room that she shared with her wee son so no one would wonder at her strange behavior.
“That’s nice.” His boots thudded as he continued on by and she remembered to breathe.
She waited, would have retreated to the far corner of her small quarters and stayed there, except Maxie was restless and needed some fresh air.
Clutching her son to her chest, she eased to the door and peeked around the corner. Buck Williams was gone. He must have ducked into the clerk’s quarters. Taking in a deep, steadying breath, she left her room and turned the other direction toward the stairs at the end of the line of rooms. The fort had thick adobe walls that she thought offered her protection. But now her fears saw danger in every shadow.
She descended to the courtyard and joined the others, feeling certain Buck would ignore the knot of women.
Her friend Mary Mae, who had recently arrived on the wagon train guided by Buck, welcomed her. “What took you so long, Greta?” Mary Mae knew of the circumstances causing Sophia to use a false name and had promised to respect her reasons, as had her sister, Donna Grace. Sophia couldn’t say if their husbands also knew and would likewise keep their silence on the matter. She could only hope and pray it was so.
Sophia did her best to compose her face and keep her voice calm while all the time, her nerves twanged with tension. “Takes a few minutes to collect myself and get Cole organized. He is an expert at squirming.” He did just that to prove her words and she set him on his feet. He toddled after the other children on unsteady legs. He’d only learned to walk a few weeks ago, a month before his first birthday, and just before she’d fled Santa Fe.
