Trail of Redemption (Hot on the Trail Book 6)

by Merry Farmer

  He thrust hard, groaning with abandon, taking her fully. The tiny moment of shock and pain resolved into even greater bliss as he worked in her. It was primal, raw, and the most wonderful thing Estelle had ever felt. Her body was only just beginning to slow in its waves of tremors as Graham quickened his pace. Each of his thrusts was accompanied by desperate grunts. She loved them, wild as they were, and echoed him with cries of her own in time to his thrusts.

  At last, he gasped and cried out one last time before his frantic thrusts slowed. The tension left his body and he relaxed, softening and lowering himself to rest half on top of her. The two of them were blazing hot, sweating, and panting. Estelle sensed that something far more out of control than what was normal had happened between them, but she loved it. Her body was sore and tender and completely satisfied with their lovemaking. A naughty voice in the back of her mind already wanted to do it again, over and over, forever.

  “That was beautiful,” she assured Graham as she caught her breath.

  “You’re beautiful,” he replied.

  They were both mostly naked, loose and exhausted, but somehow they managed to pull one of the blankets on top of them so they could continue to lie there and drowse as the night cooled around them. Whatever the morning would bring, Estelle was confident they could face it together.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Logic told Estelle she shouldn’t be carrying her fear around with her anymore. Graham knew the truth of her past and loved her regardless. Pete had reassured her he wouldn’t let anything happen to Tim when she and Graham returned to the wagon train the next morning.

  “I don’t care what he says,” Pete grumbled as he fixed himself coffee. “No decision by a bunch of morons in a wagon train calling themselves a council will hold any legal weight once we reach a destination.”

  “I hope,” Estelle added as she started breakfast.

  She and Graham had been as discreet as possible, sleeping in each other’s arms away from everyone else, then slipping back to the wagon train as the sun rose. So far no one had made a single comment, but whether that was because nobody had noticed or because they were too polite to speak up was anyone’s guess.

  Isaiah was the only person from the wagon train’s crew who paid the least bit of mind to either Estelle or Graham. He glared at Graham as he fed and brushed the crew’s horses, and at Estelle when he came to the campfire for breakfast.

  “Where were you last night?” he asked in a low grumble as Estelle handed him a plate of eggs and bacon.

  “With Graham,” she replied, meeting his eyes squarely.

  Isaiah humphed. “You’ll regret that.”

  Something in Estelle’s heart snapped. “I’m through with you telling me I’ll regret things, Isaiah Jones,” she said. “Yes, I have regrets. I regret not holding my head high sooner. I regret that so many people in this world will hold my mother and her mother against me. But I do not regret refusing to bow down to bullies.”

  Isaiah opened his mouth to reply, but Estelle shifted to the side, spooning eggs onto another plate to hand to Bob. Bob sent an anxious glance to Isaiah, then nodded for him to move along.

  “Thank you kindly, Miss Estelle,” Bob told her once Isaiah had stomped off. “I’m not too proud to say I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but now I know. You’re a right fine woman, and ain’t nobody going to convince me otherwise.”

  Estelle smiled, surprised by how much those simple words from a coworker meant to her.

  “Estelle.”

  She turned in time to see Lucy striding across the gaps between wagons toward her. Tim held her hand, but dropped it and ran at Estelle full-speed as soon as their eyes met. He launched himself into her with enough force to knock the wind out of her.

  “Good morning, Sweetheart,” she said, laughing in spite of the twist of pain at how anxious Tim was. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

  “I don’t think he slept much last night,” Lucy confided when she was close enough to speak softly. “He was so anxious. There’s been talk.”

  Estelle didn’t need to know any more. She held a finger to her lips as Tim clung to her. Her own worry would always take second place to Tim’s.

  Lucy nodded. She cleared her throat. A faint smile spread into her eyes. “And how did you sleep last night?”

  Memories of the night before coupled with the warm, comforting sensation of having a friend to talk about these things with filled Estelle with hope. “Very well,” she answered, though it was only partially true.

  “I see,” Lucy answered, lifting an eyebrow.

  The rest of the morning passed in a bittersweet cloud of shared friendship and anxious anticipation. Pete insisted twice more before the wagon train rolled out that any town council meeting would be an exercise in futility, but the more he gave his reassurance, the more Estelle wondered if it was needed.

  There was little time to think about it. The McGoverns and the Carltons might have been getting over their dysentery, but the Halls were still suffering. After the wagons moved out, she spent the morning hours flitting from one wagon to another, administering tea and fresh water and laudanum and instructing healthier family members to remove soiled linens and comfort their sick. The only difference this time was that Tim stayed close to her side. Knowing what was coming, she didn’t have the heart to send him away.

  She hardly noticed when the wagons stopped again. She had just convinced little Earnest Hall to drink an entire cup of water when Pete’s call of, “Estelle, they want to start the meeting,” came to her from outside of the wagon.

  Tim—who had been smoothing Earnest’s brow as if he were a doctor—tensed. He scrambled across the wagon to Estelle.

  “It’s all right.” She kissed his forehead. “I’ve got you. No one is going to take you away.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Hall gave her funny looks as she helped Tim out of the back of their wagon. They hadn’t said much to her since she’d started treating their illness, but the expressions they wore now were not hostile.

  Estelle gripped Tim’s hand in reassurance as they marched back through the clusters of wagon to the supply wagon. There were already several members of the trail council there, including Graham. He caught her eye as she and Tim approached, and stood from his barrel to come meet them.

  “Stop right there, you deceitful mongrel.”

  Estelle froze and turned to find Ruth marching toward her, a look of chastisement on her face. She planted her fists on her hips and came to stop several yards from Estelle—a safe distance in her mind, no doubt.

  “Good afternoon, Ruth,” Estelle greeted her. It was nearly impossible to smile now with the weight of so much hate on her shoulders, but she tried.

  “That’s Mrs. Nelson to the likes of you,” Ruth snapped.

  Estelle remained silent. There was nothing to say in the face of a comment like that.

  Ruth wasn’t done. “How dare you hold that boy’s hand and lead him around when we’re all here to tell you how wrong it is? What kind of arrogant demon would do that?”

  Tim squeezed close to Estelle’s side, hiding in her skirts.

  “I’m sorry if you’re offended,” Estelle replied, stoic and calm. “Tim is my responsibility, my heart. That’s all that matters.”

  “Your responsibility?” Ruth balked. “Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You ought to be arrested and sent back to whatever master you came from.”

  Estelle couldn’t resist the urge to bite back with, “My father was the master, and he sent me off into the world with his blessing.”

  “Well,” Ruth gasped. She opened her mouth to reply, closed it, pressed her lips together, then tried again with, “I just don’t know what the world is coming to when decent people have to put up with the likes of folks who don’t know their place.”

  “Neither do I,” Graham answered her insult in a loud, pointed voice.

  Estelle twisted to find Graham hobbling toward them. He glared at Ruth.

  “Est
elle shouldn’t have to put up with the likes of women who masquerade as decent folk when really they’re nothing but a bunch of small-minded, petty bigots,” he finished, then ignored Ruth completely. “The council is meeting right over here. Let’s hope this is short.”

  Fighting the flutter of worry in her gut and praying for reason to win out over bigotry, Estelle continued on with Graham and Tim to the midday campfire.

  “Ah, Ruth, my dear.” Nelson stepped forward from the spot he’d taken up near the campfire. He ignored Graham and Estelle entirely. “You’ve come. We can get started.”

  Estelle drew in a breath and looked around at the faces circling the campfire. The Nelsons and Pete, Viola’s husband, Wes, and a few farmers she hadn’t had the time to talk to. And oddly enough, Isaiah. He sat on the far side of the fire, looking entirely too smug to be innocent. The faces of the council members were a far cry from the new acceptance she’d found in the McGoverns, or even the uncertainty she’d seen from the Halls.

  “Boy, you come stand right here,” Nelson ordered Tim, pointing to a spot in front of everyone by the fire.

  Tim shook his head and buried his face in Estelle’s skirts.

  “He doesn’t like to be the center of attention,” Estelle said. She laid a hand on his shoulder to protect him.

  Nelson huffed a sigh, marched up to Estelle, grabbed Tim’s arm, and yanked him away.

  Estelle yelped and reached for Tim, but Graham launched into action.

  “Hey!” He pushed Nelson hard enough to knock him off balance. When Nelson lost his grip, Graham took hold of Tim’s shoulder. “Do not lay your hand on this child. Not if you want to keep it.”

  Tim sobbed and scrambled back to throw his arms around Graham’s waist. Oddly enough, the gesture seemed to prop Graham up and lend him balance.

  Nelson sniffed as he straightened and brushed the sleeves of his fine coat. “See what I mean?” He turned to the rest of the council. “His mind is as damaged as his leg. He’s violent. He’s a menace. No man like that should be given care of an innocent child.”

  A few of the other council members hummed and murmured. Isaiah’s grin grew, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as though the real action was about to start.

  “Now hold on a minute,” Pete spoke up. “You tried to rip a child away from his mother forcefully.”

  “That woman is not his mother,” Ruth protested, pointing a finger at Estelle. “That’s what we’re here to say.”

  “It’s what we’re here to discuss,” Pete countered. “Nothing’s been decided yet, and nothing will be decided that hurts that boy.”

  “Exactly.” Nelson hooked his thumbs around the lapels of his coat and rocked to his full, politician height. “Which is why we of the trail council will not allow the welfare of a precious child to be entrusted to a woman who lied and deceived to keep her true identity a secret, or to the man who supports her, who has proven himself to be a fool and violent to boot.”

  “Is it violent to protect someone you’ve come to think of as your own?” Graham asked. “Is it foolish to love?”

  “In situations like this, yes,” Nelson replied. He sniffed and turned away from Graham to the half dozen members of the council on the other side of the campfire. “This is what I think. I think that we, as the governing body of this wagon train, have a responsibility to look out for the welfare of the children in our keep.”

  He received a few hums of approval. Estelle scrambled for some way to contradict him, but on the surface, his words were right.

  “We had a responsibility to all of the orphans when poor Mrs. Gravesend passed away, God rest her soul.” Nelson paused long enough to lower his head while a few of the others murmured prayers. “We have a responsibility to the orphans now. Lucky for us, the others went to good homes with people who will take care of them.”

  Again, Estelle couldn’t think of a thing to say against the appearance of that statement.

  “We want our children—all children—to be cared for by the best of guardians in the best of circumstances, am I right?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” several of the council members replied.

  Estelle clenched her jaw. She shot an anxious look to Graham. He met her eyes and nodded, but there was little reassurance in the gesture.

  “We want all children to be cared for by hard-working, upright, and honest people,” Nelson spoke on.

  “Estelle and Graham are all of those things,” Pete said. He crossed his arms and stood with his legs apart and his back straight.

  Nelson let out a dismissive laugh. “You would call a woman who lied to you honest?”

  “Estelle never lied to me,” Pete replied.

  Nelson shrugged. “She failed to disclose the truth.”

  “That’s not the same thing as lying.”

  “But it’s still deceptive. And she continued that deception for weeks, didn’t she?” Nelson pushed on.

  “I didn’t ask her to tell me anything she didn’t want to.” Pete did his best to hold his own against the slippery line of logic.

  “Nonetheless, a great deal of time passed before you learned the truth.”

  Pete only glared in reply.

  “I didn’t see you and Ruth rushing to take Tim in when he needed help,” Graham said. All eyes turned to him. “In fact, I seem to recall Ruth saying a few choice words about rotten orphans, or the like.”

  Ruth flushed red and stammered, “If I had only known what kind of horror the boy would find himself in—”

  “You would have done nothing,” Graham finished for her. He scanned the council, meeting as many eyes as possible. “The fact is, Estelle was willing to take Tim in and I was willing to help her. And in the weeks since then, Tim has proven himself to be a delight, a real help.” He laid a hand on Tim’s head and smiled down at him.

  All for naught. Tim was still terrified and hid his face from the adults staring at him.

  “Son, you’re not helping your case at all,” Nelson said. “If you want to support this deceitful woman, than be that on your head, but the fact that you’re abandoning an innocent child to her machinations—”

  “Machinations?” Graham balked. “What are you talking about?”

  Nelson burst into a grin. He turned to Isaiah. “Tell them.”

  Isaiah nodded, rising to his feet, his grin broad. “I’ve known Miss Essie since we were both children,” Isaiah began.

  Cold fingers of dread reached down Estelle’s spine and she held her breath.

  “She’s been a wily one since she was born,” Isaiah went on. “Daughter of the master and a house slave. She used to go around lording it over the rest of us, ordering us around. Why, I even saw her order a field hand—a child no bigger than Tim there—whipped because he wouldn’t carry her lap dog.”

  “What? I never,” Estelle protested, caught between horror and disbelief. “That’s a lie.”

  The rest of the council didn’t seem to think so. They clucked and gasped, glancing from her to Isaiah and back again.

  “God’s honest truth,” Isaiah said, shaking his head. The gesture was too theatrical, and he finished with, “I’d hate to see what becomes of a child in her care.”

  “It’s not true.” Estelle shook her head and planted her hands on her hips.

  “But he did live on the same plantation as you,” one of the farmers on the council said, “so he would know.”

  Estelle could have laughed with the ridiculousness of the statement if she wasn’t so beside herself. “I’m telling you, it’s a lie.”

  “A lie like you told us?” Nelson challenged her.

  She was so beside herself with fury and panic that she couldn’t answer.

  “This is ridiculous,” Pete came to her defense. “Isaiah, you know better than that.”

  Isaiah shrugged, trying to look innocent. “I’m just telling you what I know.”

  Pete swore so fiercely that half of the members of the council flinched. “Based on what
I’ve seen so far, you wouldn’t know the sky from a hole in the ground.”

  “Temper, temper, Mr. Evans,” Nelson tsked.

  Pete blew out a breath. “I’ve had enough of this. Isaiah, we reach Ft. Laramie tomorrow. You’d best find yourself another wagon train to go work for, because I will not be requiring your services anymore.”

  Isaiah scowled, but Nelson slid into a wry grin. “Scared of the truth, Pete?”

  Pete arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m scared of damn fools trying to hurt my friends with their willful ignorance.”

  Nelson turned to the others on the council. “You hear that? His friends. How can you expect the trail boss to do what is in the best interest of this child if his friends are the ones involved.”

  “You know what?” Pete shifted his weight, scowling at Nelson. “If this is going to become one big character assassination, then you and your bony little wife there can find another wagon train to head west with too.”

  “Fine.” Nelson shrugged. “And we’ll be taking Tim with us.”

  A sizzling silence filled the camp.

  “You will not,” Graham said to break it. “Tim stays with us.”

  Nelson laughed. “How do you intend to enforce that?” He took a step closer to Graham. Tim flinched and shifted to hide behind Graham’s back. “Say Ruth and I were to take Tim with us. Say you come after us with a sheriff. You’ve got no papers saying you own him.” He snapped straighter, turning to Estelle. “Oh dear, pardon my use of words,” he said, anything but sorry.

  “You can’t intimidate me,” Estelle told him. She stepped closer to Graham, reaching for Tim and drawing him against her side. “And you certainly can’t take Tim.”

  “We’ll just see about that.” Nelson leaned close to her, his grin as prickly as an alligator’s. “Because when we do take him, if you send someone after us, what are they going to do? Give him back to a mulatto and a cripple who aren’t even married? Is that what the law would do? Or do you think they’d hand him over to a fine, upstanding citizen, a man of government, and his wife of many years?”