by Linda Ford
“I know you’re not serious.” She got to her feet. “I think I might be able to sleep now.”
That was her answer. A wise one.
They returned to the camp. He waited until she settled in the tent before he stretched out under the wagon. He didn’t expect to sleep, but the exertions of the day caught up to him and he didn’t waken until Warren kicked his booted foot. “Time to get up, lazy bones.”
He was instantly awake and scrambled from under the wagon. He glanced about and didn’t see Donna Grace. Mary Mae eased out of the tent and held her finger to her lips. “She’s still asleep. I thought I’d leave her until breakfast is ready.”
The men slipped away. Nearby, Reverend Shepton spoke to Buck. “It’s Sunday. Are we going to rest as the Lord commanded?”
Buck shook his head. “Not unless you want to risk encountering snow before we get to Santa Fe.”
Luke acknowledged something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. This late in the season, crossing the mountains would be a real challenge and the risk of snow was almost certain. Was it possible he could persuade Donna Grace and Mary Mae to spend the winter at Bent’s Fort?
“Reverend, you’re welcome to have a service this evening. If people want to attend that’s their choice. But I won’t have our departure delayed this morning.” Buck strode away to make sure all the wagons were ready to leave as soon as breakfast was over.
Warren and Luke checked their freight wagons and spoke to the teamsters. The load had shifted in one wagon and it took some time to rearrange it. One of the drivers complained he had drunk bad water and was feeling weak. Warren and Luke always hired on an extra driver or two to cover for illness and injury and even death. So the ailing driver was told to spend the day resting in a wagon and another driver took his place.
By the time they returned to camp, breakfast was ready and waiting. And Luke was more than ready to partake. Donna Grace was up and looking just fine. Yes indeed, just fine, with her black hair brushed back into some sort of roll, encircling her head like a crown. She had alabaster skin with a hint of rose.
“Good to see you’re no worse for yesterday’s activities.”
“I’m alive and well. The baby is kicking up a storm. He just gave an extra hard kick when he heard you. The sun is shining. All is right with the world.”
“I think we might be in for a hot day.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t intend to complain about one single thing.”
He grinned. “Not even the mosquitoes or the dust?”
“Nope. Not even them.” She swatted at a pesky fly.
The others laughed at her good humor. Although Reverend Shepton wasn’t happy about traveling on the Lord’s Day, he couldn’t resist Donna Grace’s determination to enjoy the day.
“We can sing as we walk,” she said.
And so the reverend led them in song after song as they followed the never-ending trail.
Luke’s prediction about the heat had been correct, and by mid-afternoon, he convinced Donna Grace to ride under the shelter of the canvas of the wagon, though the heat inside would be dreadful as well.
He glanced skyward. Buck rode by. He studied the sky as well. “I don’t like it.” They both knew heat like this, even in October, often led to thunderstorms.
“Push on,” Buck said. “I’d like to make camp before the weather turns.”
Luke was the lead wagon and he sent the mules into a trot.
Donna Grace groaned and came to join him at the front. “What’s the hurry?”
“Storm coming and we want to make camp before it hits.”
She poked her head out to look. “How can you predict a storm when there isn’t even a cloud in the sky?”
“I’ve traveled these prairies before and know what to expect.” Wind buffeted them. “See the wind has already picked up.”
“I love storms.”
He chuckled. “You might not think they’re so much fun if this turns out to be a vicious one.”
“I’ll still enjoy it.”
He laughed. “What’s gotten into you today? From the first, you want only to enjoy every minute, now you’re set to appreciate a storm.”
Her smile widened. “So long as we are all safe, why not delight in the power of nature?”
He shook his head. The wind increased with every turn of the wheels. The mules were pulling as fast as they could. He glanced back and saw the others were doing their best to keep up.
The spot where they would camp lay ahead and he turned his wagon. Warren and the reverend quickly pulled into place and the freighters caught up and formed a tight circle. The teamsters knew what to expect and staked the wagons into place. They scrambled to secure any loose objects. He and Warren did the same, calling out to the others. “Make sure everything is tied down.”
Donna Grace hurried about doing what she could to help. She stopped and stared at the sky. “It’s turned cold.”
“Listen to the thunder rolling over the plain.” At this point it was distant but that would soon change.
Mary Mae caught a towel that blew out of the Russell wagon and took it to Judith who was arranging things in the wagon.
And then the first cold drops of rain stung. “Head for cover,” Luke called.
Some of the freighters had hunkered down beneath the wagons, seeking protection under sheets of canvas. Others climbed into crowded wagons and tied the flaps shut. He didn’t see where Buck, Warren or Gil went but they had sense enough to seek shelter somewhere.
The reverend and his wife hastened into their wagon. Judith grabbed Mary Mae’s hands and pulled her inside the Russell wagon.
Luke helped Donna Grace into her wagon and glanced about. The Russell wagon would be crowded. Could he make it to cover with one of the teamsters? He knew he couldn’t. And he didn’t want to leave Donna Grace on her own.
Without waiting for an invite, he climbed into the back and closed the flap.
The wind rocked the wagon and roared like a crazed animal.
He settled down on the wagon floor. Donna Grace faced him in the narrow space. Both had their legs stretched out. He couldn’t help but press his against hers.
The heavens opened and the rain descended, driven by gale force winds.
Donna Grace’s eyes widened and she hugged her arms about her.
“Still think storms are enjoyable?” he asked, with a chuckle.
“Will it get worse?” She didn’t sound as certain as she had a short time ago about enjoying the power of nature.
He didn’t want to frighten her, but he’d seen winds lift a wagon clear off its axles. He’d seen hailstones the size of walnuts shred the canvas of the wagons and leave the occupants and belongings exposed to the vicious elements.
“I hope not, but all we can do is sit it out.”
“I might get hungry if this lasts too long,” she grumbled.
“I’m a little hungry myself. Do you have anything in here, or is all the food in the locker on the outside?”
She gave him a teasing look. “I might have something.” She eased past him to a crate at the back of the wagon and pulled out a sack. Just then a flash of lightning lit up the inside of wagon. Deafening thunder followed immediately. His scalp tingled with the electricity in the air.
With a little squeal, she dropped to his side and buried her face in his chest.
He laughed as he cradled her head. “Still like storms?”
“Not this one.” She shivered. “Did we get hit?”
“I don’t think so.”
She sat up. “I hope everyone else is safe.”
“I’ll check.”
She caught him. “Don’t go out there.”
With a pleased chuckle, he pulled her close. “I meant when the storm lets up.” If not for the dangers to man and beast, he could almost wish it would last several hours. There was something cozy and intimate about the two of them being shut up together.
He wondered if she felt the same, but he wou
ldn’t ask for fear of spoiling the moment.
7
Donna Grace shivered. Not that she was cold, pressed to Luke’s warm chest, but the strobes of flashing light and answering thunder shook her. She’d never seen or heard anything like it. They’d had rain and thunder storms on the trip to St. Louis with Papa, but she couldn’t recall them sounding so furious.
“Did you find some food?” he asked, his words a comforting rumble against her ear.
A flood of heat raced up her throat as she realized how shamelessly she clung to the poor man. She eased as far away as possible which meant their shoulders still touched, and she allowed herself to steal courage from this physical contact.
She found the sack of biscuits where she had dropped them and handed him one. She took one as well, and bit into it as rain pelted the canvas and the storm thundered on. Water dripped from the ropes at the front closure, but she ignored it. There was nothing to do but wait for the rain to quit, and then put the wet things out to dry.
Another clap of thunder almost deafened her and the baby kicked a protest. She pressed her palm to her tummy. “Settle down, little one. You’re safe in there.”
“Does the noise frighten him?”
“I suppose it does.” She smiled. “He settled when he heard your voice.”
“Then I shall keep on talking.” A silent moment. “What should I talk about?”
“Tell me about what it was like growing up.”
“Okay. I can do that. There were the three of us. We were always good friends and played together.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It was. I remember a time when I was maybe eight, so Judith would have been four or five and Warren almost twelve. It was a special day, though I can’t remember the occasion.” He paused. “Wait. I do remember. It was the day Pa paid the last bank payment on the farm. Anyway, Pa was so happy. He said the next day was to be a special day. It started as soon as we got up in the morning. He told us to get ready. We were going for an all-day picnic. It didn’t take us long to gather up blankets and help Ma with the food. And then we got in the wagon and went to the river. We found a place with a wide, grassy bank and Ma and Pa laughed together and played with us all that day. After lunch they said they needed to rest and lay down on a blanket, Pa holding Ma close. We all lay down beside them crowded together on the blanket. I will never forget that feeling. I don’t even know how to describe it—the sun was warm overhead, but I was just as warm, in a place deep inside, behind my heart.”
She waited for the roll of thunder to fade so she could be heard. “Luke, that’s beautiful.”
“I wanted that with a wife and family of my own, but it was not to be.” His voice broke and she found his hand and squeezed it.
“You’re young yet. There’s still time to fulfill your dreams.”
“I think that time has passed.”
“How can you say that? It’s like you have given up on yourself.” She propped herself up on one elbow to study him. She saw something in his eyes he would most certainly deny if she mentioned it, so she kept the information to herself. But in that man who had shut his heart to the future, she saw the remnant of a dream. It flickered, as if hidden by a breeze-fluttering curtain, so that she couldn’t tell what shape the dream took.
“You want another biscuit?” she asked.
“Please.”
They lounged side by side, slowly eating. While she chewed, she tried to find a way to get him to tell more about himself.
“Did you always want to be a farmer?” she asked.
“I was always a farm boy. From the time I was four, I helped my Pa do chores. Pa gave me my first calf when I was six. I sold that calf and bought my first horse. I had dreams of raising a fine line of horses. By the time I was sixteen, I had six mares and a stallion with good blood lines.”
“Where are your horses now?”
“I left them. Walked away after Ellen’s death and never looked back.”
“But surely someone is taking care of them.”
“Maybe Pa is.”
“You aren’t the least bit curious about their welfare?”
“That part of my life is over and done with.”
The baby kicked a protest. She had to agree with the little one. Luke sounded more defeated than determined.
She finished her biscuit. “Luke, how long do you plan to trade back and forth on the Santa Fe Trail?”
He stiffened and that little movement convinced her that it was a question he avoided.
“There’s good money in trading,” he said.
She knew that. Her papa had made lots of money the same way, but she wondered if Luke realized how defensive he sounded. As if he had to convince himself. “I don’t see you as the sort of man who wants to simply accumulate wealth. You must have something you want to do with your money.”
He stared up at the sodden canvas of the wagon. “Hadn’t really thought of it.”
She knew he was avoiding the truth, but decided to let it go. “Melvin gave me a sum of money. Guilt money, I call it, but I took it. I knew I would need help to start over again.”
“What is your dream for your money?”
“Buy a house, take in boarders and feed travelers so I can provide for myself and my baby. But if I was a man, I would go west and buy land. I’d build a house and start a ranch. I’d raise cows and feed all those people who are going west to look for gold.” She sighed. “I once said something like that to Grandfather Ramos and he punished me for talking so foolishly.” Her laugh was half sigh. “Guess that’s why I’ve never told anyone else. Only you.”
He nudged his shoulder to hers. “I guess we both have to live with second best dreams.”
“You don’t. And all that matters to me now is making a safe and secure home for my baby. For him, I will do whatever it takes.”
“Like marrying a stranger.”
“Yes, like that. I would do it again if I had to.”
He chuckled. “I sure hope I’m not going to have to drive away another man offering to marry you.”
She jabbed his ribs. “You suit my purposes very well.”
“You don’t think you deserve better?”
“Let me think about that. Better than a man willing to marry me simply so I can travel on this wagon train. A man willing to let my baby have his name and even willing to protect me with his own life. Nope. I think I did good when I chose you.”
“When you chose me?” He sputtered. “I don’t remember it that way at all.”
“Really? How do you remember it?”
Their faces were mere inches apart. “Donna Grace, the way I remember it is I saw a lady in distress and knew I could help. I’m glad I did.”
“Me too.”
His gaze deepened, searched hers. She considered throwing open the doors of her heart. But instead, stared at the canvas overhead noting the darkening lines where the water had thoroughly soaked the material. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart and happiness to a man. It was enough that he enabled her to get to Santa Fe. And although she was grateful he might have saved her life, that didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t because he valued her. Only that he was trying to atone for Ellen’s death.
Nor did he seem inclined to look at their relationship any differently, apart from his offhand remark about renegotiating their agreement. As if they were discussing the rental of a piece of property.
Why was she even thinking this? They were both happy with the arrangement, and if she felt weepy and vulnerable it was only because she had a baby to think about.
“The storm has passed,” Luke said. The space inside the wagon had grown damp and close. Donna Grace’s questions had uncovered fragments of his dreams that he thought were long dead. He didn’t care what became of that farm he’d bought. Whether or not Pa sold it, Luke would never return to the place of so much pain. But Donna Grace’s questions about his horses sent his mind into a gallop. The mares might well have had a foal or two since he left. Un
less Pa had sold them.
But life couldn’t be lived hankering after the past, or wishing for things that might have been.
“I’ll see how the others fared.” He scrambled from the wagon hoping to outdistance the useless thoughts. But his mind simply changed direction and went to the note he’d shoved into the bottom of his bag. There is land here a plenty. Great for cattle. Wouldn’t that be exactly what Donna Grace would want? However, her life had taken her a different direction. Just as his had.
He stopped at the closest wagon. “Judith, Mary Mae, are you both okay?”
Two head poked out.
“Wasn’t that something?” Judith said.
“I was scared half out of my wits,” Mary Mae added. “Were you with Donna Grace?”
He nodded.
“I hoped that was the case. I didn’t want to think of her alone. Is she okay?”
Donna Grace stuck her head out of her wagon. “I’m fine.”
Luke moved on to the Shepton wagon. They, too, had weathered the storm well. He moved down the line and was joined by Warren, Gil and Buck. The canvas had torn on one wagon and soaked the contents. It would have to be repaired before they moved on. Apart from that, damage was minimal.
He and Warren headed back to the muddy camp where the women were doing their best to prepare a meal in the growing darkness. They all had a store of dry wood under their wagons, so soon a fire had them warmed up, and a big pot of tea ready for their enjoyment. The rest of the meal took longer to prepare. It was fully dark by the time they filled their plates. The ground was too muddy to sit on, so they stood by the warmth of the fire.
“I had wished we could gather and worship together,” the reverend said. “But it’s getting late and I know you’re all anxious to get your rest.”
“Maybe God has already spoken to us,” Donna Grace said. “In the power of the storm and in His protection.”
