by Linda Ford
“Amen.” Reverend Shepton lifted his arms to signal for attention.
Luke hoped they weren’t going to be required to listen to an hour-long sermon. He had nothing against preaching, but the night was lengthening and everyone needed to get some sleep.
The reverend pulled a Bible from his breast pocket and leaned close to the fire for light to read by. “Let me share this one verse: Psalm 107, verses 29 and 30. ‘He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.’” He closed the Good Book. “May God bring us all to our desired haven. God bless each one of us and grant us sleep.”
It took a moment for Luke to realize the man was done. It was the shortest sermon he’d ever heard and likely the most appropriate.
Luke knew it would be a miserable night for all of them, with no dry place to set up a tent and the insides of the wagons damp from water leaking through the canvas. He wanted to suggest that Donna Grace should get the best selection, but guessed she would resent his interference on the matter, so he held his peace.
Donna Grace and Mary Mae climbed into their wagon. Judith into the Russell’s.
Luke chose to sleep under the Clark wagon, even though it had a puddle under one wheel. He wanted to be close to Donna Grace. He knew he was being overly concerned, but the events of the last couple days had left him on edge.
He wrapped in a slicker and prepared for a long, uncomfortable night.
The wagon rocked as one of the girls shifted.
“You’re taking up too much room,” Mary Mae complained.
“Tell that to your niece or nephew.”
Luke grinned. “Ladies, go to sleep.”
“There you go, listening in on my conversation again.” If Donna Grace meant to sound annoyed she failed.
He heard giggling. “Good night, Donna Grace. Good night, Mary Mae.”
“Good night, Luke,” they said in unison.
More rustling around and then quiet.
Luke lay on the cold ground, waiting for morning. He crossed his arms under his head. Donna Grace’s words spoken during the storm came to him. I did good when I chose you. She’d only been teasing, but her words were at such odds with what Ellen’s father had said. She deserved better than you. Which one did he believe? Or were both wrong, and he simply had to continue on his way alone, and bereft of dreams?
The mud lingered the next morning as Luke and Warren hurried away to catch the animals and get them into their harnesses. By then breakfast was prepared. Polly and Sam joined them. Everyone but Polly seemed unusually quiet and inclined to be irritable.
“I slept in the wagon,” Polly said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Uncle slept under the wagon. I wish I had a cat or dog to sleep with.” She eyed the old hound that followed the wagon train. Far as Luke knew, he belonged to no one but simply made himself at home. He kept the wolves away, and barked a warning when he thought things weren’t right.
“He’s no pet,” Luke said before Polly could suggest she would like the hound to be one.
“How do you know?” Polly demanded.
“Polly, your manners,” Sam reminded quietly.
“I’m sorry.” But she continued to study Luke. He wondered what the child was thinking, but she soon let him know. “I expect he would like to be someone’s special friend.” She ducked her head and concentrated on her breakfast before anyone could argue.
Luke looked toward Donna Grace hoping she would be cheerful, but she dragged about with her face full of weariness. He caught her arm as she passed. “Didn’t you sleep well?”
“No. I kept jerking awake thinking I heard thunder.” She slanted him a narrow-eyed look. “It might have been someone snoring.”
He held his palms toward her. “Not me. I don’t snore. It must have been Warren.”
Warren grunted. “I heard the same sound, so you can’t blame me. Dreadful, wasn’t it?”
Gil strode by in time to hear the conversation. He stopped and leaned back on his mud-crusted boots. “I came running with my rifle, certain some wild animal was tearing at a hunk of meat. Took me a moment to realize it came from that direction.” He pointed under the Clark wagon.
Luke groaned. “Seems a man can’t sleep in peace around here.”
Laughing, Donna Grace refilled his coffee cup. “Quite the opposite. A man can sleep, but his traveling companions cannot.”
The others joined in laughter.
“Buck is anxious to get traveling,” Gil said, before he hurried away.
“I won’t mind leaving this muddy place behind,” Donna Grace said as he helped her to the wagon seat.
He could have warned her they might see more mud and rain, but what was the point? She would have to cope with whatever the weather might bring, just as they all would.
The ground steamed as they returned to the trail. By noon, the heat sucked away the moisture of the previous night’s rain, and left both man and beast sweltering under the sun.
Donna Grace asked to get down and walk, but soon the heat proved too much and she asked to ride.
“Would you like to get in the back?” He thought she might sleep.
“No. It’s like an oven back there.” She scanned the sky from horizon to horizon. “Is this likely to bring up another storm like we had yesterday?”
“It’s hard to say. The animals would welcome rain. This heat is hard on them.”
She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her brow. “I can’t decide which is worse—lightning, thunder and mud, or this searing heat.” She slumped into lethargy, her hand pressed to her stomach.
She groaned softly.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing to be concerned about.”
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Was she merely uncomfortable, or was her time approaching?
8
Donna Grace would not complain. But the heat sucked the energy from her. Her hip hurt from being thrown to the ground. And she hadn’t slept well. On top of that, the constant roughness of the trail bounced her around and exhausted her. What she wouldn’t give for a chair that didn’t move, and a soft bed to lay upon.
She tried walking again, but her back hurt and the heat left her feeling ill. The poor oxen. Their tongues hung out and they looked about ready to collapse. Noon provided no relief, except she could sit down and not be jostled for a few minutes.
Late in the afternoon, Buck called a halt even though they could have traveled longer. “Don’t circle the wagons,” he said.
Luke explained what Buck meant to do. “The animals can’t continue. We’ll stop here and have supper, then go on after dark.”
She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying.
Luke helped her down from the wagon and kept his hands on her shoulders until she lifted her head to meet his gaze. He touched his fingers to the corner of her eyes and trapped a tear. “What’s wrong?”
She tried to smile, but knew it was more a grimace. “Besides the heat and the constant jolting of the wagon, nothing.” She blinked her eyes clear and straightened. “I’m just a little tired.”
He led her to the shady side of the wagon. “Wait here.” He disappeared from view.
She leaned against the wheel, too weary to think or move.
He returned with the buffalo robe and spread it at her feet. “Have a rest while you can.”
“I need to help with supper.” Did he not understand she had responsibilities?
He crossed his arms and gave her a hard look. “I explained the situation and the women all insisted you should rest.”
She remained standing even though the idea of stretching out on that soft fur bed beckoned. “I should be doing my share.”
“Donna Grace, stop resisting.”
“I hate being so much trouble,” she murmured.
“I am not your Grandfather Ramos.”
She jerked her attention to him. Saw an expre
ssion she couldn’t interpret. “I didn’t ever think you were. That would be an unkind assessment.”
“Then don’t expect me to have the same opinion as him.”
To do anything now, but accept his offer—or was it an order?—would make him think she put him in the same category as her grandfather. “Very well.” She paused and touched his arm. “Thank you. You are a kind man.”
Was it hope she saw in his eyes? If so, she would offer him more. “I am not like the man who was to be your father-in-law. I do not see you as not good enough.” Before she could further embarrass herself, she sank to the buffalo robe.
He hurried away. Poor man. She had made him uncomfortable. What a strange pair they were. He was running from a painful past and words that hurt him deeply. She was determined to be all her baby needed, despite how often she’d been told she was nothing but a nuisance.
She pressed her hand to her belly as the baby turned. “Shh. Shh,” she murmured, hoping to persuade the little one to settle and let its mama rest.
The aroma of food wakened her and she stretched. Her stomach rumbled. It had been too hot at the noon break to eat and she was starving. She scrambled to her feet and went past the Shepton’s wagon to join the others at the Russell wagon where they all hovered in the meager shade and avoided getting too close to the fire.
Mary Mae sprang up at her approach. “Are you feeling better? Did you sleep? Luke said you weren’t feeling well.”
“I’m fine. The rest did me good.” Even as she reassured her sister, her gaze went to Luke.
He watched her with hooded eyes. What did he see? A woman heavy with child who had caused him considerable inconvenience from the first day?
Or—?
She shook her head. She would not pine for someone to cherish her the way she already cherished her child. Loving her child would provide the only love she needed or wanted.
They ate at a leisurely pace and remained against the wagon as the shadows lengthened. The setting of the sun provided marginal relief from the heat.
Buck rode by. “Let’s move.”
Donna Grace couldn’t have said whether she preferred the rough wagon ride to walking, but Luke pointed out it was too dark for her to walk safely. “You might stumble and fall.”
So she pressed her hand to her lower back and gritted her teeth, hoping no one would notice, and with Luke’s help climbed aboard for more jolting. But she soon discovered it was rather pleasant riding at night. The moon cast silvery shadows across the path. The rattle of wagon and harness seemed muted. In the distance came a series of howls and barks that she knew from her previous trip were wolves in the distance.
The dog growled low in his throat and dashed into the darkness. From one of the freighters rang out a warning call. “Dog, get back here before they eat you up.”
“Wolves.” She shivered. “When we came this way with Papa, an old trapper told a gruesome story about wolves catching his mules and eating them. I insisted on sleeping by our mules for days.”
“You weren’t afraid the wolves would get you?” Luke asked with amusement.
“I was prepared to defend the mules from any wolves.” She laughed softly. “Of course it helped that Papa slept beside me with his rifle right handy.”
He laughed at her admission. “It’s easy to be brave with a papa and gun to protect you.”
“I never thought he would leave me to manage on my own.” It hurt that he’d abandoned them.
“You aren’t alone. Have you forgotten I’m here?”
For now, she silently added.
“When I get to Santa Fe, I will have my baby and Mary Mae.”
“What about your grandfather Ramos? Don’t you think he would help you?”
She grunted. “I hope he doesn’t hear I’m there. Though he will probably ignore me as a shame and a disgrace to his name.”
“I’m sorry he’s so unfair to you.”
Luke’s acknowledgement of the situation went a long way toward erasing the hurt of it.
He wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “I’m sorry your papa has disappointed you. I’m sorry that man pretended he could be your husband. I fear you have every reason to think men are not to be trusted.”
She knew she should say she trusted him, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. Trust required she let go of all the fences she had built around her heart and she wasn’t prepared to do that.
“I hope you can see me as an exception,” he murmured.
Still she did not answer. She couldn’t. She daren’t. To trust a man, meant letting him control her future. Her baby’s future mattered more than anything a man could promise her.
On the pretense that she needed to adjust her boot, she eased away from his embrace. She knew her lack of response hurt him. Likely made him believe she didn’t think him good enough. But that wasn’t the case. He was a good man. He deserved a good woman.
Sometime later her head fell forward and she jerked awake. “How long before we stop?”
“I don’t know. Gil and Buck must have a place in mind they want us to reach. Rest your head on my shoulder if you want.”
She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. But she was too tired to argue with her body and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm about her, and held her tight.
Safe in his arms, she slept until Buck rode by. “We’ll spend the night here.”
She jerked awake.
Somehow, in the faint light of a gibbous moon, the men managed to get the wagons into a circle. The animals were taken to the nearby creek to water.
Luke put up a tent and Donna Grace and Mary Mae crawled inside and fell into an exhausted sleep.
They were up before dawn, eating a hurried breakfast. Luke and Warren barely paused to eat, too busy getting animals hitched up.
The sun had barely broken over the western horizon when they began the day’s journey. It promised to be another hot day. Mary Mae and Judith walked, saying it was cooler a distance from the animals and dust, but Donna Grace couldn’t think of putting one foot in front of the other, weary mile after weary mile. She rode in the wagon until it grew too warm, then she joined Luke on the seat. She would not complain. She would not indicate how uncomfortable she was. Everyone else faced the same unrelenting heat and dust and movement.
But oh, she was grateful when it was time for the noon break and Luke again spread the buffalo robe in the shade for her.
She awoke when Mary Mae nudged her. “You better eat something before we move on.”
Donna Grace shook herself awake. “How long did I sleep?”
“Not long.”
“I am so sorry. I’ve been shirking my share of the chores.”
Mary Mae handed her some biscuits and cold beans. “We talked about it, and all of the women agree you should be free of any duties until you feel better.”
Donna Grace struggled to her feet, her food forgotten. “I can’t allow that. I have to do my share.”
Mary Mae pushed her back. Judith and Mrs. Shepton overheard them and came forward. “There are plenty of us to do the work,” Judith assured her.
“You must take care of yourself in order to give your baby the best birthing.” Mrs. Shepton’s counsel caused Donna Grace to sink back to the fur.
“I am such a nuisance to everyone.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Shepton spoke with firm conviction. “You are doing the most important job of any of us.”
Mary Mae remained at Donna Grace’s side as the others moved away. “Now eat up. You need your strength.” She waited until Donna Grace started eating. “I know Grandfather said unkind things to you when we had to live with him, but why do you still believe him? Why did you ever believe him?”
Donna Grace kept her attention on her food for a moment. “Am I really so obvious?”
“Only to me.”
And to Luke, but she didn’t say it aloud. “I sound like a pathetic whining woman, don’t I?”
Mary Mae burst out laug
hing. When she could finally speak, she turned to Donna Grace, her words overflowing with amusement. “I think pathetic and whining would be the last words that come to mind when people think of you.”
“Really? So what would the first be?”
“Strong, independent, responsible, kind… oh and did I almost forget?—determined.” Mary Mae hugged her, then took away her empty dish, laughing as she went back to the other women.
The camp dog sat down a few feet away and watched her.
“What’s your opinion, dog?”
The animal tilted his head to one side and looked at her hand.
She chuckled. “Only one thing matters to you… food.” She tossed him the bit of biscuit she held.
Polly trotted over and sat close to the dog.
Remembering Luke’s warning that the dog would not make a pet, she thought to warn the child to move away, but Polly simply watched the animal.
“No one knows his name,” she said. “He needs an important name, so I’m going to call him Mister King. How do you like your name, Mister King?”
The dog rose and walked away without so much as a backward look.
“I think he likes it,” Polly said and skipped after him.
Donna Grace chuckled.
“Good to see you feeling better.” Luke spoke from the front of the wagon.
“I shouldn’t be letting people spoil me like this.”
He came round to squat in front of her. “What makes you think you don’t deserve it?”
“I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to.” Not waiting for her to respond, he held out his hand. “It’s time to move.”
If Luke ever met this Mr. Ramos who had said such critical things to Donna Grace, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, but somehow he would make the man understand just how unfair and wrong he was.
He helped Donna Grace to the wagon seat and put away the buffalo robe. Not that informing the man would undo the damage his words had done. If she would give him a chance, he would help by giving her all she needed and deserved.
At least until they reached their destination and then they would go their separate ways. She to raise a child on her own, he to continue making the journey back and forth along the Santa Fe Trail. Not many days ago, he had been content with that future, but thanks to Donna Grace’s probing, he wondered how long he would be interested in making the trip.
