by Linda Ford
“I give God little mind most days, but my parents raised me right, taught me scriptures and took me to church. I believe in His love and forgiveness. I think God watches over us even when we don’t think of Him.”
“He sees and judges.”
“You’ve had a harsh teacher in your life that you think to fear God’s judgment. Who was it?”
She lifted her troubled gaze to him. “That would be my Grandfather Ramos in Santa Fe.”
He jerked back. “Then why are you wanting to go back there?”
She snorted. “Not to see him. But when Mama was alive, it was a happy place for me. I plan to buy a little home and take in boarders and feed travelers and create a place of safety and love for my baby.” By the time she finished, her voice filled with resolve.
“Then you did what you had to do to accomplish that. God will understand.”
The fire in her eyes died. “Will He?”
“I think He understands how frail we are. Reminds me of a song I learned recently.” He cleared his throat then sang softly, for her ears only, “‘Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail. Your mercies, how tender, how firm to the end—” He stopped as she shook her head. “What? You don’t like my singing?” He brought a wounded note to his voice hoping to lighten the atmosphere.
“You have a very nice voice.” A weak smile accompanied her words. “But I can’t help wondering where God was when Melvin married me. Why didn’t He stop it? Why didn’t Melvin’s wife return before I wasted nine months thinking I was married to him?”
Luke did not intend to open his heart, risking more pain and loss, but her distress cut through his defenses. She did not deserve to be in this awkward position—with child by a man who had lied to her, and now desperate enough to marry a stranger.
He opened his arms and pulled her to him, feeling the tension in her body. Her arms remained over her chest, a firm barrier between them. “Donna Grace, whatever may come, whatever lies before us on the trail, you have my word that I will not forsake you. I will be there beside you every step of the way. We will trust God to show us His favor despite the falseness of our vows. How does that sound?”
She straightened, and took a deep breath. “I will do what I need to for the sake of my child. I have no need of help from anyone. Only Mr. Williams’s silly rules forced me into this situation.” She put two steps between them. “Now we need to get back to camp and make sure everything is in order for our departure in the morning.”
He fell in beside her as they continued on their way. Her answer left him slightly unsettled, but what more could he expect? He had agreed to this arrangement. He, as much as she, had willingly given false vows before God.
Did that mean they would venture into the wilderness without God’s protection? He shuddered at such a prospect.
3
Donna Grace, in her unsettled state, would have walked faster, but her present condition made it impossible. Her hurry could best be described as a waddle. Papa had as much said it was too much trouble to take her to Santa Fe. His unconcern for her hurt like a knife stab, echoing as it did, Grandfather Ramos’s similar and oft-repeated phrase, “Child, you are too much trouble.”
Seems she was too much trouble for God as well. Too much trouble to protect her from the likes of Melvin Brunt. And the broken promise of her papa. Or even the silly rules of the wagon master. Well, she’d be no trouble to anyone in the future.
Before they got any closer to their own wagons, she would make something clear. She drew to a halt. Luke stopped, his eyes full of caution and curiosity.
She’d soon relieve him of both. “You’ve helped me by marrying me. Don’t think I mean to take advantage of it. You go about your business and I’ll go about mine. I’ll be no trouble at all to you.” Before he could respond, she hurried onward in her ungainly waddle.
He caught her arm. “Donna Grace, I will be your husband in name only, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do my best to make the journey easy for you.”
They faced each other, both breathing hard. Her determination reflected in his eyes.
She broke the tense silence first. “I will need nothing from you.”
He opened his mouth but before he could answer, Buck Williams saw them and jogged over.
“What’s this I hear about you two getting married?” He crossed his arms and looked every bit the man in charge.
Donna Grace drew herself up tall, prepared to defend herself.
Before she uttered a word, Luke pulled her close. “You heard right. May I present my wife, Mrs. Russell.”
Donna Grace heard the conviction in his voice and felt the tension in the air.
Buck rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. “Fine. But I expect to see you taking care of your wife’s wagon and seeing to her livestock. I’m not playing games here. You are in charge of getting both these women safely to the end of the trail. I will tolerate no delay because of them. If anything makes me think this is simply a move to counteract my rules, I’ll turn you back. Now see to making sure the wheels are properly greased.” He strode away without a backward look.
Donna Grace pulled away from Luke.
He adjusted his hat as if to buy himself time to deal with a wife who had just informed him she didn’t need or want his help, and a wagon master who expected his rules to be obeyed to the letter. Finally, he brought his gaze to her. “You heard the man.” They closed the distance to the others. He grabbed a pot of grease and hunkered down beside the nearest wheel of her wagon.
She stared at his broad back, frustration mounting within her. This was not going as she planned, but then why was she surprised? Nothing much did. Her baby kicked and she pressed her hand to the tiny foot. “Settle down, wee one. We’ll be fine. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“Good to hear.” Luke’s deep voice came from the side of the wagon.
She hadn’t thought he would overhear her talking to herself. “I hope you aren’t going to listen in on all my private conversations.”
He laughed softly.
Beneath her palm, the baby turned and settled. Don’t get used to that voice, she warned the little one.
Mary Mae poked her head out of the wagon. “Are you done out there?”
Donna Grace chuckled. Seems every word was going to be overheard from several directions. Before this journey was over, she wouldn’t have a secret left to hide.
“I’ll help get things organized.” She began to climb in the back when a pair of hands lifted her from the ground. She gasped.
“Don’t fight it,” Luke growled. “I don’t think either of us have any desire to see you fall and perhaps injure yourself or the baby.”
She ducked inside.
“He’s right, you know,” Mary Mae said. “You need to be careful and accept help—and what better person to give it than your husband.”
Donna Grace squinted at her sister in the waning light. Did she think this marriage was real? Maybe she did. Mary Mae was a dreamer, thinking everything would come up roses if only one believed. Donna Grace glanced about. “You’ve got things almost put away.”
“Everything but your trunk.” It stood open.
Donna Grace pulled the mantilla from her bag and handed it to Mary Mae. “I hope you get a chance to use this soon.”
Mary Mae pressed it to her cheeks. “I always think of Mama when I see this.” She slowly folded it and put it in her trunk.
“Help me get out of this dress.” Donna Grace turned so Mary Mae could undo the buttons for her and help her slip the dress over her head. She put on her older dress and folded the good one and returned it to the trunk. Tiny baby garments were stored neatly to one side and she trailed her fingers over the soft flannel material of the little gowns and tiny little diapers.
For you, my sweet baby, I will do whatever I must.
“Ladies,” Luke spoke from the end of the wagon. “Do you have a tent in there?”
He lifted the canvas out and disappeared.
Donna Grace stared. “Mary Mae, we can do it ourselves.” She scrambled out, not waiting for anyone to help her and hurried after Luke. “We know how to set it up.”
He continued stretching out the canvas and driving in the pegs. “Have you forgotten that I’m your husband and as such, it is now my job?”
She fought for an answer. The baby kicked a protest and she pressed a hand to her stomach. A cramp grabbed her and she leaned forward holding her stomach.
Luke straightened. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Just a Charlie horse.”
“Is that what they call it now?”
She caught the hint of irony in his tone and managed a smile. The cramp stopped and she straightened. “That’s what I’m going to call it.” Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to climb from the wagon in such a hurry. “Now let me set up my tent.”
He came round to face her. “Don’t look, but a certain Buck Williams is watching us. I don’t think it would take much to convince him to refuse you on this train. What is it you really want? Is it to prove you don’t need help? Don’t need a man? Or is it to get to your destination and have a home for the baby?”
She ducked her head, unable to meet his gaze. She wanted only one thing—to make a home for the baby. But he hadn’t said your baby. He’d said the baby. It was such a small difference and likely meant nothing to him, but it meant so much to her.
Tears threatened at how it changed her view of him. She could almost imagine—
She would not let her emotions rule her, though. They’d been erratic these last few weeks.
“All that matters is the baby, and if Mr. Buck Williams is looking for a reason to send me back, he won’t find it. Go ahead and set up the tent.”
“People might expect us to spend our first night as a married couple together.”
She gasped. “Are you already changing our agreement?”
“Not at all. But Buck is only too anxious to cut you out.”
“Show him the wedding certificate we signed, along with Mary Mae and Warren as witnesses.”
“Do you think it will cause him to change his mind?” He held up a hand to silence her protests. “If we sleep in the same quarters, he’ll have nothing to question. You notice I said sleep. Nothing more.”
Two lying side by side in the wagon box would be pressed together. The tent allowed slightly more room. She turned to stare into the darkness past the fires. She had left beans baking and the aroma made her remember all the things she needed to do before the morning.
“For appearances we must,” Luke whispered.
She shuddered. “Very well. We’ll sleep in the tent. But only for appearances.”
“I’m a man of my word.”
She clenched her teeth together and hurried to the fire. Using a heavy towel, she lifted the lid and stirred the mixture. Enough to last her and Mary Mae several days. Along with biscuits, they would do okay.
Was she expected to feed Luke? Her panic died as quickly as it came. They had brought provisions expecting Papa to be with them. So it didn’t matter if it was Luke instead.
Judith joined her at the fire. “It seems to me we could cut our work in half by joining forces. One fire, one meal. What do you think?”
“I like the idea.” Donna Grace turned to Mary Mae. “What do you think?”
“It’s a great idea.” For a few minutes the women discussed how they would divide the chores. But Donna Grace was distracted by watching Luke set up the tent and carry his bedroll inside.
Mary Mae watched as well. “I’ll sleep in the wagon tonight.”
Heat rushed up Donna Grace’s neck. Thankfully, it was too dark for anyone to see the color come to her cheeks. Suddenly a number of chores called for her attention. She scurried about heating water to wash in, and checking the water barrels to make sure they were full. Back and forth she went.
“You’re soon going to find yourself coming as you’re going.” Luke’s quiet voice came from the shadow of the wagon. “Everyone else has gone to bed.”
A glance revealed she was alone with Luke. Her heart stalled. The baby kicked a protest. She sucked in a deep breath, which did nothing to calm the kicking.
The time had come to face the consequences of her choice.
Luke felt Donna Grace’s tension as she passed him and entered the tent. He was as anxious and confused as she, but he knew they must give every indication of being a happily married couple if Buck was to allow Donna Grace and Mary Mae to travel with them.
He gave her a few minutes to get settled, then pulled off his boots, left them under the wagon, and slipped into the tent.
She lay on her side, facing the tent wall, the quilt pulled up to her chin. If rain came, it would wick through every place she touched the canvas, but the sky had been clear with no threat of precipitation.
He grabbed his bedroll and unfurled it beside her, staying as close to the opposite side of the tent as he could, his back to her. Every breath brought some part of them in contact. Tension made it impossible for him to relax.
“You didn’t have to give me a ring,” she murmured.
“It seemed the right thing to do.”
A moment of silence before she spoke again. “I can’t help wonder how you came to have a ring with you.” She stiffened. “You’re not married and running away from a wife are you?”
He chuckled. “Shouldn’t you have asked that question a few hours ago?”
Her sigh pressed her back to his. “I’m a great one for running headlong into trouble.”
“I consider myself duly warned.”
“There is no prior wife, is there?”
He shifted to his back so he could talk to her more easily. “I have never been married, though I was once betrothed to a woman.”
“Is this the ring you bought her?”
“No. It was my grandmother’s ring and Judith had it.”
“Oh.” She shifted to her back and lifted her hand.
It was too dark for him to know for sure, but she seemed to study the ring.
“Is your grandmother still alive?”
“No, both she and grandfather died before I was born.” He waited as she continued to twist and turn her hand.
“Are your parents alive?”
“Yes, they live on a farm near Crestheight, Missouri.” His one regret in leaving the area was having to leave his parents to manage on their own.
She pulled the quilt tighter to her chin. Her elbow jabbed into his arm and he tried to make himself smaller.
“Where’s your intended? What happened to her?”
“She’s dead.” He didn’t want to discuss it further and turned his back to her. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”
She grunted as she eased herself over to her side away from him.
Sleep did not come easily to Luke as he tried to keep his distance from Donna Grace. Did she know she groaned and grunted in her sleep? Perhaps she wasn’t comfortable. How would she make the trip, if already she was finding the conditions unpalatable?
He woke slowly, aware of something warm pressed to his side. Donna Grace. His wife. He let the information settle in his thoughts and then smiled. A wife, and soon a child. Not for keeps, but he might enjoy it well enough until it was over. Perhaps it would help in some small way to make up for his dreams that died along with Ellen.
Careful not to disturb her, he slipped from the tent, pulled on his boots and hurried to start the fire. Warren crawled from under the wagon and joined him. Neither spoke. They worked together with the ease of experience and with little need for conversation. As soon as the fire was going and the coffee set to boil, they headed for the livestock.
“Do you know which animals belong to the Clark wagon?” Warren asked.
“Can’t say as I do.”
Mr. Clark stepped from the shadows. �
�I’ll give you a hand. I came to bid my daughters goodbye.”
The older man pointed out the mules he’d purchased for the journey, and together, he and Luke led them back. Warren followed with the mules for the wagon Judith would ride in.
As they returned, Donna Grace crawled from the tent, her hair flying away in every direction. “Hello, Papa.” She wiped her hands over her hair. “I can’t believe I overslept.” She straightened and shook her skirts. “It won’t happen again.”
Mary Mae hunched over the fire, stirring a pot of simmering oats. “It’s impossible to sleep with everyone yelling, and the animals snorting and bellowing. And the language some of those teamsters use.” She shuddered.
Judith tested the biscuits baking in the big black skillet and removed them, adding them to a pile already done. “Breakfast is ready.”
“You’ll join us?” Luke asked Mr. Clark.
“My pleasure.”
Activity around them increased as everyone dished up hurriedly, anxious to be on the go. Mr. Clark stood. “May I ask the blessing?” He looked to Warren, Luke and Judith for their approval.
“Go ahead,” Warren said.
Donna Grace’s father bowed his head. “God in heaven, we thank You for Your blessings of food and provisions. I ask that You go with these people each mile of the way and bring them safely to their place. Amen.” He sat and began eating.
Luke, seated on the ground next to Donna Grace, felt her silent sigh. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but she only shook her head.
And then Buck rode by. “Let’s get this journey underway. The lighter wagons can go first.” That meant the Russell wagon, the Clark wagon and a third one that drove toward them.
The driver called out a greeting. “I’m Reverend Shepton and this is my good wife. We’re on our way to New Mexico.”
Introductions were made all around.
The reverend noted Donna Grace’s condition without staring. “My wife is a midwife. Looks like she’ll be needed soon.”
Donna Grace shook her head. “Not until we reach Santa Fe. That’s where my baby will be born.”
