by Irene Brand
“Going smoothly right now, but I do feel a bit guilty going off and leaving the men with all the work after I’ve been away for so many months.”
“You need a vacation like the rest of us. They’ll manage,” Kim said.
Joseph patted his pocket. “I did bring my cell phone, so they can reach me in an emergency. How did you honeymooners like your trip to Los Angeles?”
“Different from Colorado, but neither of us had ever been there, so we enjoyed lots of fun tours,” Eric said.
“I’ll help Danny unload the two horses, and then he can go back to the ranch. I tried to talk Jean into coming with us, but she said riding in a wagon and sleeping in a tent wasn’t her idea of a vacation.”
Kim set up a small folding table in the shade of a cottonwood tree, retrieved her laptop from the van and started collecting fees. First to arrive was Bruce Atkins, who’d been a career wrestler before a brace on a wrestling platform had snapped and propelled him several feet into the spectators. His spine was injured, and he’d come to NLC in a wheelchair. Treatments took almost a year, but finally he was able to walk on his own two feet. A hulk of a man weighing over two hundred pounds, his wrestling days were over, but he’d become a successful real estate agent in Denver. His wife, Denise, a tiny, quiet woman, wasn’t an outdoor enthusiast, but she went anywhere Bruce wanted to go. Many of the other participants could tell similar stories.
Other staff members arrived before noon. Dr. Alexander and his unmarried sister, Mary, with whom he made his home, had brought Peggy McCane. Connie felt it necessary to have a nurse or doctor with them, and since both members of her medical staff liked the wagon train trip, it worked out well. Fortunately, they’d never needed a doctor, but Peggy had been handy for bruised knees, sore muscles and insect bites.
Charlotte Redmond had once worked at NLC as a trainer, but she’d transferred to a hospital in Kansas, where her parents lived. She’d liked the first wagon trip while she was a member of the staff, and she’d come back this year, bringing her twenty-year-old brother, Leonard.
The youngest member of this year’s crew was Bobby Richie, an eighteen-year-old, who’d never had a serious injury but worked out regularly on the weight machines in the gym. After his bicycle tour of the country, Bobby’s ambition was to play pro football, and considering his achievements so far, he was well on his way. Observing his six-foot height and muscular body, Connie pitied the horse that had to haul him around for the next five days.
Dorothy Martin was a member of the Marriage First group, and this was her first experience on a wagon train. A career paralegal, Dorothy had no interest in marriage, and the support of the Marriage First group helped her focus on the pitfalls of illicit relations.
Several of the other instructors had registered for the trip, including Russell Bunce, the aerobics instructor at NLC.
By two o’clock everyone had arrived, and Connie directed them to an assembly area in a grove of lodge-pole pines, where the wagons were in a circle formation reminiscent of the overland caravans of the past. Everyone was so excited that it was difficult to stop their talking, but Connie blew on the whistle hanging around her neck, and at its shrill tones, conversation ceased.
“Welcome to NLC’s fourth annual wagon train excursion. From this point on, we’ll be under the guidance of Victor Gregory, the wagon master. As a captain commands his ship, Victor will be in charge here. His orders are to be obeyed even if we don’t like them. Listen to his instructions, so we can get underway.”
Victor Gregory could easily have stepped out of the nineteenth century. He wore a wide-brimmed hat that had seen better days, faded jeans, a blue cotton shirt, with a red bandanna tied around his neck. Victor had a perpetual slouch, so whether he walked or stood, his posture belied his six-foot plus height. Faded blue eyes peered out of a brown, lined face. The wagon master wasn’t playing a part—he’d ridden the range for fifty years before he retired and turned his holdings into a dude ranch, which was much more profitable and easier than his former occupation had been. But Victor remembered his range-riding days with fondness, and he indulged his memories by organizing a few wagon trips each year.
He leaned against the wheel of one wagon, his blue eyes stern as he surveyed the group before him. “There’s only one rule on this wagon train—you do what I say!” Then his eyes twinkled. “But I won’t have much to say.”
The group applauded, and he tipped his hat.
“However,” he drawled, and his audience groaned, “everybody is expected to do a share of the work. I’ll give orders necessary to the use of the horses and equipment, and if I find it necessary, I’ll change the rules as we go along. My crew will take care of the horses at night. The rest of it is up to you. Miss Connie makes the schedule, assigns duties and gives me my orders.” He hunkered down beside the wagon and motioned for Connie to carry on.
“One of the main things for us to remember,” she said, “is that we will leave this forest as litter-free as we found it, and in some cases, even cleaner because this area is a favorite place for hikers, who sometimes aren’t as conscious of the environment as we intend to be. So, if you see debris thrown away by someone else, I hope you’ll pick it up and dispose of it properly.
“I’ll post a schedule of activities and workload each morning, but your duties won’t be burdensome, for we want you to enjoy the week. Rose, of course, will have cooking duty each day, but her job is supervisory. Some of us will help.”
Getting into the holiday spirit, the group applauded and cheered. “Unless you prefer that I do the cooking,” Connie added with a smile.
Her suggestion was greeted with exaggerated boos.
A thirty-year-old woman, one of the more timid patients at NLC, raised her hand hesitantly. “What about wild animals? Will we see any bears?”
Connie motioned to Victor, who slouched to his feet.
“It isn’t likely that we’ll encounter any dangerous animals, and if you do run into a bear or mountain lion, remember the animals are probably as scared as you are. We’ll be camping along the river, and it’s possible bears might be nosing around at night. If you see a bear, back off and give the animal room to escape. As for lions, it’s rare that they attack people. But to avoid problems, hike in groups and make a lot of noise, so the animals will get out of your way.”
“I have pamphlets, prepared by the Division of Wildlife,” Kim interjected, “detailing specific instructions about living with wildlife. Each of you should study these pamphlets.”
“We’ll rise and shine, at seven o’clock,” Connie continued. “Breakfast is an hour later. After we clean the campsite, we’ll travel for a couple of hours. You can walk, ride in the wagons, or travel on horseback. After a long lunch break, we’ll move on for another two to three hours and camp for the night.”
“Connie,” Russell Bunce said, “I’m planning a half hour of aerobics soon after we circle at the end of the day. I brought tapes along, and I hope all of you will participate. Even if we’re saddle weary, the exercise will be beneficial.”
“Thanks, Russell. I didn’t expect you to work, but I agree each of us will find it helpful.” Turning her attention to the others, she said, “If you aren’t into aerobics, you can enjoy free time until supper, which is at seven o’clock. The first two days we’ll travel along the Cache La Poudre River, where you can fish, and any trout you catch, we’ll put on ice to save for a fish fry one night. The last two days, we’ll proceed into a wilderness area of scenic beauty. You may want to hike or ride horseback into places our wagons can’t go. Wildlife is abundant in this area, especially at dusk and early morning, so have your cameras ready for photo taking. This is designed to be a leisurely trip, so plan to enjoy yourselves. Questions?”
“Any campfires?” Kim said and grinned.
“Sorry. I forgot campfires. Our day ends by eleven o’clock, but an hour or so before that, we’ll have organized activities around a campfire. Russell is handy with a guitar. He plays for us whil
e we sing campfire songs, country-and-western ditties and the like. Tonight, we’ll get acquainted—learn about each other, and especially about our connections to NLC.” She paused. “Kim, you have the list. Please finish for me.”
Kim referred to a paper she took out of a file folder. “Tomorrow night we’ll have western stories. They can be truth or fiction, but they must deal with the Old West. Wednesday night is Talent Night, and everyone is expected to do something. The last night, we’ll discuss the spiritual lessons we’ve learned this week. Eric will be in charge of that meeting.”
“Sounds like fun,” Bruce Atkins said.
“If I’m not around to answer questions,” Connie added, “buttonhole Kim—she has all the answers anyway.”
When they got underway, Bruce Atkins drove the first wagon with Denise sitting beside him. His back was still fragile, and his doctors advised him to avoid horseback riding. He volunteered to drive a wagon every day, and for a man who’d spent so much time in the wrestling ring and had never touched a horse until two years ago, he made an efficient teamster.
About half of the group rode horses—others alternately walked or rode in the wagons. The pace was leisurely and the weather pleasant. Driving the second wagon, Connie felt at peace with the world, although an occasional worry about Joseph’s legal problems popped into her head. Della, sitting beside Connie, kept a light conversation going, so the drive was peaceful.
Della was a world traveler, and she always had interesting stories about her experiences. Della had a way of finding humor in everything, and when Connie was laughing over the older woman’s animated account of her first elephant ride, Della interjected, saying, “I saw Ray Blazer last week.”
Connie’s laughter stopped immediately, but she didn’t comment on Della’s statement.
“I met him in a restaurant in Denver, and I had a few choice remarks to make to him about his behavior at NLC, and especially the way he sabotaged your equipment before he left.”
“Thank you, Della, but I wish you hadn’t said anything to him.”
Grinning, she responded, “I didn’t speak hastily. I probably considered it two or three seconds before I gave him a piece of my mind. And do you know, honey, I gathered he’s sorry he left NLC? He said that his new job isn’t working out well, and he intends to leave.”
Not sure where this conversation was heading, Connie touched the backs of the horses with her whip, and chose her words carefully. Was Della suggesting she should rehire Ray? “I had no choice but to ask for his resignation,” she finally said.
Della nodded. “I realize that, but the point is, do you want him back?”
“No—an unequivocal no! I’ve forgiven Ray, but he reminds me of things I want to forget, and I couldn’t trust him again.”
“Well, I just thought I’d ask.”
Connie’s peace of mind was gone, for at the mention of Ray’s name, she remembered how he’d humiliated her, causing her to distrust all men, even Joseph. Should she forget her love for Joseph and go it alone as Dorothy Martin was satisfied to do? Living as a single person had its rewards, she thought. But she didn’t think it was right for her.
Joseph wasn’t interested in aerobics, and since he didn’t have evening duty, as soon as he unhitched from the wagon, he took his fishing gear and headed toward the river. After she’d assigned each person to their tents or wagons and helped them settle in, Connie walked toward the river and sat on the grass to watch Joseph.
He stood knee-deep in the swift stream, and as she watched, he had a strike on his fly, and skillfully brought a brown trout toward him. He dropped the fish in the creel at his waist and cast again.
After a half hour Joseph saw her watching him, and he waved.
“Don’t let me bother you,” she called. “I came for a walk.” She stood up. “I’ll see you back at camp.”
“No, wait. I’m going to stop soon anyway, and we can walk back together.”
After he caught another trout, Joseph waded toward the bank and opened his creel to proudly display his catch.
“Caught four! I’ll clean and filet them when we get back to camp.”
“If the rest of the fishermen do as well, we’ll have a trout fry one night.”
“A few months ago, I thought my trout fishing days were over. I owe you a lot, Connie.”
Was gratitude the only emotion he felt for her?
“You did the work—direction and encouragement were my only contributions. Any other trainer could have done the same.”
He shook his head. “No, healing required confidence in the trainer, and I might not have been so confident of another trainer. I’m so thankful to have a whole body again, I could shout my praises from the tops of the mountains.”
“Why don’t you?” she asked with a smile.
“I’ve said a lot of silent praise to God, in case you wondered,” he answered, giving her hand a squeeze.
The trip proceeded as planned, without any hitches, and after they reached a wilderness area on Thursday, Russell Bunce organized a hike along a moderately difficult trail, usually frequented by four-wheel-drive vehicles. Besides Russell, seven other members of the caravan elected to take the hike, including Connie, Joseph, Dr. Alexander, Peggy, the Redmonds and Bobby Richie. The wagons would continue their daily travel, and the hikers planned to meet the caravan at another point farther along the trail.
Russell had scouted out this trail the year before, and he instructed the hikers as they gathered at six o’clock in the morning. “This isn’t an easy trail, and since we won’t all hike at the same speed, we won’t try to stay in one group, but two people should always be together in case of an emergency. I’ve prepared maps for you, so it shouldn’t be difficult to find your way. We’ll regroup when we reach the mesa, which is a good place to rest, for it’s a lovely spot with a view. The trail crosses several streams, and if it should rain, be alert for rapidly rising water.”
Joseph moved to Connie’s side. “Want to be my partner?”
“Sure. We’ve done a lot of hiking together.”
“Yeah, when I was dragging along behind. I intend to keep up with you today.”
“You set the pace. I’ll follow.”
“Rose got up early to have some breakfast ready for you,” Russell announced. “You’ll find coffee, biscuits and a Mexican omelette at the chuck wagon. Be ready to go in a half hour.”
The hikers started out before the other campers got up, but Joseph couldn’t resist scratching on the side of the tent where Kim and Eric slept. Kim stuck her tousled head out of the opening.
“Just because you want to punish yourselves is no reason to disturb us,” she said. “You guys are supposed to be on vacation, and you’re taking a busman’s holiday.”
“To each his own,” Connie called. “Keep the wagons rolling.”
Joseph had exchanged his cowboy boots for rugged hiking shoes, and he wore a short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, and a baseball cap. A long-sleeved sweatshirt hung from his backpack. Connie opted for denim shorts, a cotton blouse, woolen socks and walking boots. She wondered momentarily if she should have brought heavier clothing, but the last two days had been hot, and she didn’t anticipate any need for warmer clothes. Connie watched Joseph’s gait, and although he occasionally favored his left leg, he walked easily and without effort. They carried walking sticks to help them over rough places in the trail, or to ward off a wild animal if necessary.
Several of the inclines were rugged and steep, and they stopped often for breathing spells. Occasionally they saw some of the other couples ahead of them, and the Redmonds trailing behind, stopping often to take pictures of the flowers along the trail.
By noon, they reached the mesa that afforded a panoramic view of Poudre Canyon and parts of Rocky Mountain National Park, where the other hikers rested. Russell Bunce approached them. “Since we’ve made such good time, some of us plan to climb higher and take another road back to the wagons.” After outlining the alternate route on t
he map, Russell added, “It’s a little risky, Joseph, for some streams in this area flood easily, so be careful if we have a downpour.”
After Russell rejoined his companions, Joseph asked, “Do you want to take the extra miles?”
“Right now, I’m too tired to consider any extra walking. Let’s rest awhile,” Connie said with a laugh, “and then make the decision.”
Putting their packs aside, they stretched out on the grass. When they awakened, they were alone on the mesa. “I didn’t expect to sleep so long,” Connie said. “I guess the others have gone on.”
“Except the Redmonds—I see them downhill quite a ways.”
While they ate their lunch in companionable silence, Connie thought that in spite of the time they’d spent together in the last four months, she knew very little about Joseph. What did he do as a child? What were his aspirations for the future?
“Have you always lived in this area?” she asked.
“Yes. My great-grandfather homesteaded the ranch where Jean lives. My father added property to the family’s holdings, as did his father, so when my parents retired, Jean and I split the property and bought it from our parents. Our semiannual payments provide funds for them to live in a retirement home near San Francisco. Jean lives in the ranch house that my grandfather built. The house on my section wasn’t much, but I lived in it while I was at the university, and built the new house before I got married.”
“Is Jean a widow?”
“No. She’s divorced. My parents are disappointed in both of us.” He grinned. “They want some grand-children—my mother says she’s intimidated by all the grandmothers in their community who have pictures to show.” He paused, adding, “Virginia didn’t want children, and under the circumstances, it’s just as well.”
He stared into the distance, and Connie wished she hadn’t probed into his past. It had disturbed Joseph, and she’d learned things she wished she hadn’t. The dismal tone in his voice when he talked about Virginia could be indicative of two things—he still loved her, or she had disappointed him greatly. Perhaps both. Hoping to dispel his somber mood, she continued. “What about your childhood? You mentioned that your parents made you learn a lot of Scripture verses.”
