by Linda Ford
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful,” she murmured. She was about to turn back when she saw a cluster of red leaves. If she gathered them and pressed them into a book, she would have a permanent reminder of this day… one she felt sure she would always remember as special.
With hurried steps she went toward the bright spot of color. Without warning, her feet went from under her and she fell to her backside, grabbing for a hand hold as she slid down a slippery slope. The grass she caught at pulled from her hands. The bumpy ground hit her bottom and jarred her teeth. She came to a sudden stop and hunched over her knees sucking desperately for a satisfying breath. Finally one came and then another. Her head cleared and she looked about her. She had fallen down a narrow gully that was almost invisible. She hadn’t seen it because her attention was on the red leaves up the hill to her left. To her right lay a scattering of rocks. “That would have hurt,” she mused and lifted her face to the sky. “Thank you, God, for stopping me before I bashed into those.”
She pulled herself to her feet. Ouch. She hurt all over. It took several seconds for her to be able to straighten then using hands and feet like a four-legged animal, she scrambled up the slope. Again she stopped, and waited for pain to pass.
“It’s just from falling,” she assured herself. Had she hurt herself or her baby?
The red leaves still beckoned, and she gathered a bouquet, then set her feet on the path back to camp.
More pain. Sharp. Clawing at her stomach. She must stop and wait for it to pass. No. She must get back to the camp. Where was it? She clutched the leaves to her chest and straightened. The wagons couldn’t have disappeared, but where were they? She stumbled onward. The pain returned and she stopped. Surely, this wasn’t right. The fall had injured her. She prayed for the spasm to end and let out a huge sigh when it did.
She needed to find the wagons and she blinked to clear her vision. There they were over the slight hill before her. And there was Luke striding toward her. His gait recognizable before she could make out his features.
As soon as she could see his face, she knew he was both worried and annoyed. “You should not be out here by yourself.”
“I found these. Aren’t they beautiful?” She held out the bunch of bright leaves.
He grabbed her hand and opened the fingers. “How did you skin yourself? And your skirt is torn.”
“I wasn’t paying attention and I stepped in a hole.” Let him think it was nothing more.
He turned her around until she stood face to face with him again. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
The question echoed similar questions from her grandfather and burned her insides. “You have done all you need to do. You’ve made it possible for me to come on this journey. I want no more.”
His fingers stilled. “I didn’t mean to sound like I thought you were too much trouble. I think nothing of the sort.” He trailed his fingers to her chin. “You say you want no more but I think you do. I know I do.”
She would not be distracted by the way his touch reached deep into her heart. Nor would she let him be distracted by having to worry about her. “Do you? I seem to remember you wanting to continue being a trader on this trail. And don’t I recall that you have vowed to never care about anyone again for fear of being hurt?” If he hadn’t said those exact words, she knew he meant them. Just as she meant to be all her child needed.
He dropped his hands and stepped back. “You’re right, but until this marriage is legally ended, I take my responsibilities seriously. And that includes protecting you and the baby.”
She pressed her hands to her stomach. “He’s kicking, so he’s okay.” She’d had no more pains, which meant they had just been from her fall. Almost overcome with gratitude, she grabbed Luke’s arm. “I’ll try not to cause you any troub-” At his warning look, she changed her mind and said, “Worry.”
They returned to the wagons without her experiencing any more pains. It made her almost giddy with relief.
Mary Mae rushed to greet her. “You were gone so long.”
“I saw these leaves and wanted to bring them back.”
“Pretty,” Polly said. “What are you going to do with them?”
“I’m going to press them so I’ve have something to always remind me of this day.” Luke hovered nearby and she sent him a look that she hoped spoke how she felt. “It’s been a good day from the start.”
His expression softened. His eyes filled with warmth, and she knew he recalled the special moment they had shared that morning. He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat and strode away.
“I learned something today,” Polly said. She showed Donna Grace the biscuits she’d made. They were oddly shaped but nicely browned.
“They look delicious.”
“They are. Mary Mae let me have one with syrup on it.” The child skipped away. Mister King, the dog, ran after her.
When Mrs. Shepton had alerted Luke to Donna Grace’s absence, the bottom fell out of his heart as he imagined a number of disasters from being accosted by one of the trappers to her delivering the baby on her own. Seeing her coming toward him with an armload of red leaves had flooded him with relief. He hadn’t meant to blurt out those words. What am I going to do with you? He would never tell her she was too much trouble.
And then he’d said he wanted more. He shook his head. It was simply a reaction to the worry and relief that overlapped each other and left him momentarily unable to think.
He smiled as he returned to his work. She had sent him a private message when she said it was a good day, reminding him of that sweet moment when they had greeted the crystal-draped world.
She saw this day as special.
He meant to see that it ended well. As he worked, he tried to think how he could do that. It was hard to do anything within the constraints of their circumstances, but by supper time he had a plan. It was nothing exceptional, but he recalled how much she had enjoyed spending time with her papa. Maybe she would like this.
As soon as the meal was over, he went to the Russell wagon and pulled out fishing gear. “Donna Grace, would you like to go fishing with me?”
Every pair of eyes looked his direction. He pretended he didn’t notice. “I thought you might enjoy it.”
“Okay.” She seemed guarded, but fell in at his side.
“The water has already gone down a lot,” she commented as they reached the river.
“We should be able to cross tomorrow.” He didn’t look to the sky, didn’t mention the possibility of rain. This evening was for enjoyment, not worry. “That looks a likely place.” He didn’t know about fish, but it offered a grassy spot where they could sit side by side.
He prepared the lines and handed one to Donna Grace and they waited for a bite. He hoped there wouldn’t be one. Fresh fish would be nice for breakfast, but not as nice as quiet time with Donna Grace.
“It’s been a good day,” he said. Why was it he couldn’t think of anything better than that to say?
“One to remember,” she agreed.
Had she forgiven him for his harsh words?
They sat side by side without speaking. He didn’t find it uncomfortable, but still, he wished they had something to say to each other.
“Did you get the leaves pressed?”
“I did. Did you get all the wood cut you hoped to?”
“Yes.” His heart stirred with things he wanted to say, but could not find words. “How’s the baby?”
She pressed her hand to her stomach. “He’s quiet right now.” She rubbed her stomach. “Why isn’t he moving? Did I hurt him when I fell?” Her voice grew thin with worry.
Without asking for permission, he put his hand by hers to feel for movement. “Hey, little one, are you sleeping?”
A tiny foot kicked his hand.
Luke laughed. “I think he’s saying he doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Well, I hope he doesn’t sleep now and then kick all night.�
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“Does he do that a lot?”
“Define what you mean by a lot?”
He laughed at her dry tone. “I never realized how much work it is to be a mama.”
She turned her face to him, her eyes dark with feeling.
Was she asking for support? Understanding? Suddenly, he knew what she needed. “You are going to the best mama this baby could ask for.” He put an arm about her shoulders and drew her close, pressing his forehead to hers.
She nodded. “I will be like my mama. She was a good parent.”
“As was my mama.” His throat tightened as he thought of his parents and their pain at how their children had suffered.
“Tell me about your mama,” Donna Grace said, still leaning into him.
“Judith looks like her. In fact, Judith is like her. Calm, matter-of-fact. But has deep feelings. Did you know Judith’s betrothed took his own life?”
Donna Grace jerked back. “How awful. She never said anything.”
“She won’t. Please don’t let on I told you.”
“Of course not.” She rocked her head back and forth. “Your family has suffered a lot of tragedy. Your soon-to-be wife murdered. Warren’s wife and child dead. And Judith’s—” She shuddered.
“I sometimes forget that all of this happened to my parents’ children. They must feel it deeply.”
Donna Grace pressed her hand to her stomach. “And then for all of you to leave. How do they bear it?”
“They always appeared so strong to me.”
“I suppose they want to support you as much as they can.”
“I am going to write them a letter the first chance I get and let them know we are all doing reasonably well.”
She grinned at him. “Are you going to tell them you are married?”
The question left him wordless for at least two seconds. “If I don’t Judith or Warren might. I don’t know what I should say. Maybe I shouldn’t write them.”
“Oh Luke. They surely want to hear from you. You could tell them the truth: that you saw a woman in need and offered this solution, but neither of us meant it to be permanent.”
“I don’t know that they would understand.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Nice of you to have so much faith in me.” He slumped over his knees and stared at the water. “This was supposed to be a special moment for you, to add to all the enjoyable moments of this day.”
With a little chuckle, she gave a playful punch to his ribs. “So make it enjoyable.”
“What do you suggest?” He studied her full, inviting mouth. Her lips like rubies. Whoa. Was he talking like the Song of Solomon? A bride and her lover? No way. They didn’t fit that picture at all.
“You could start by pointing out the beautiful sunset.”
He looked at the western sky. “I almost missed it.” The colors deepened and grew more vibrant.
“I don’t think you could have.” The color spread across the sky, like a runaway blaze. Her voice deepened with awe and she reached for his hand and clung to him as she drank in the sunset.
He alternated between admiring the sky and admiring the look of pleasure on her face. One thing he could say for certainty about this young woman: she didn’t let the sad things of this life keep her from enjoying the good things.
She almost made him believe he could put the past behind him and find joy in what the future offered.
10
Donna Grace could not take her eyes off the banners of orange and gold. “God has certainly filled this day with color.” She spared a quick look at Luke, and smiled at the bemusement on his face as he watched the sunset. The light reflected on his features, making them all sharp planes. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, “Who. Who.” The sound became a question in Donna Grace’s mind that circled, catching at the corners of doubt in her thoughts. Who could she trust besides God? Did she want to trust anyone else?
“A day to remember?” Luke’s question stopped her thoughts before she could answer them, and turned her attention back to the colorful sky and the events of the day.
“I do believe so.” She hovered on the brink of something that both drew her forward and at the same time caused her to hold back. Was she letting the shifting, dancing music of the sunset mesmerize her to the point she lost sight of who she was and what she wanted?
A rock dislodged to their right, rattling down the slope. They turned toward the sound. A man she didn’t recognize, clattered down the hill and stopped by the river. A thin, tallish man with a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. Donna Grace could see only his chin and it seemed tinted with red from the sunset reflecting off the water.
“It’s one of the trappers,” Luke said. “We should go back.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to assist her.
“We’ve caught nothing.”
“It will soon be dark. No fish will bite.” He darted a glance to the man by the river then gathered up the fishing poles.
“Why does he make you nervous?” They would surely encounter many strangers on their journey.
“He asked questions about the wagon train and who traveled with us when we met the trappers earlier. I didn’t like his inquisitiveness.”
She clung to Luke’s arm as they began the climb up the bank. “Why would he want so much information?” Until Luke had expressed his concern, Donna Grace would not have given the man more than a passing thought. Now she wondered if he posed a risk. Hadn’t she already learned the dangers of encountering strangers? She shuddered.
“I don’t know, but I don’t intend to provide him a chance to make further inquiries.”
Donna Grace glanced back as they made their way up the hill. She stared at the man. He looked at them, the tilt of his head giving her an opportunity to see more of his features. Swarthy skinned, dark eyebrows, a hard set to his mouth.
Seeing her interest, he turned away. “He looks familiar.”
“You know him?”
“He reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who.” She hurried onward. “I suppose it’s simply that he looks like many of the men I saw in Santa Fe.”
They returned to the others.
Buck and Gil sat around the campfire telling about the wolves they had encountered as they explored the river, looking for an alternate crossing.
“We didn’t find anything better than this place,” Buck said. “We’ll cross tomorrow.”
“One wolf was pure white,” Gil spoke as if the conversation was still about the wolves. “I’ve heard tales about a white wolf who is larger than normal and very aggressive, but I thought they were exaggerated.”
Polly clung to her uncle and Mary Mae crowded to Donna Grace’s side. “I don’t like talk about big wolves,” she whispered to Donna Grace.
Gil heard her. “They won’t bother us while there is plenty of wildlife for them to eat.”
Polly gave a wail. “You mean deer and those cute antelope. That’s dreadful.” She sobbed.
Sam picked her up. “I think it’s time for us to go to our wagon.” As he left, he spoke to Polly. “I’ll read you a nice story.”
“The one about the mama hen who took care of her baby chicks in a bad wind?”
“If you like.”
Gil rubbed his chin. “It appears I misspoke to mention the wild beasts with a little one around. My apologies. I am used to being surrounded by men.” He rose, emptied his cup and handed it to Judith.
“No need to rush away,” she murmured.
“Thank you, but I need to check on things.” He planted his hat on his head as he left.
Buck joined him.
Warren stood. “It will be a long day tomorrow. Good night.”
Judith headed for the wagon.
Luke went to get the tent for Donna Grace and Mary Mae. He set it up and insisted on spreading the buffalo robe for Donna Grace.
“Thank you.” He took his role of husband seriously, even if it was tempo
rary, and only for show. If it helped cleanse his guilt over his betrothed’s death, then it went a long way, in Donna Grace’s mind, to justifying their deception about their marriage.
They were soon bedded down for the night. With Luke sleeping nearby, Donna Grace decided she didn’t need to fear white wolves or strange men who asked too many questions.
She tried not to disturb her sister by moving too much, but found it impossible to find a comfortable position. She’d bruised herself in some new places. In an attempt to relax, she buried her face in the buffalo robe, breathing in the scent of leather and wildness. She drifted close to sleep. A dream of a large white wolf jerked her from any hope of slumber. A pain speared through her and she sucked back a moan, determined no one should guess at her state. The pain ended. She should have been more careful out walking.
Mary Mae turned toward her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine except for some bruises.” She told how she had fallen. “I should have been watching where I went.”
Her sister murmured, “I’m glad you didn’t hurt yourself seriously. Now go to sleep. You heard Warren say tomorrow will be long.”
Donna Grace made a disbelieving sound in her throat. “Seems to me every day has the same number of hours in it, so I don’t see how it will be any longer than today or yesterday.”
Luke’s deep-throated chuckle made her realize that she had spoken above a whisper.
“Go to sleep, Donna Grace,” he said.
“I would if everyone would stop talking to me.” She flipped to her side and willed sleep to come.
Darkness still surrounded them when she woke with another stabbing pain. She bit back a groan. This could not be anything more than the after-effects of her fall. The pain grabbed at her back and spread across her middle. All she could do was breathe deeply, waiting for it to pass. It lasted long enough for Donna Grace to wish for morning so she could move around.
Faint dawning light brought on another pain. She shifted to ease the pressure on her back. As soon as she could move, she hurried from the tent to join breakfast preparations.
