by Merry Farmer
“I’ve had just about enough of this,” Pete said. “This meeting and this council is adjourned.”
No one moved. Nelson laughed as though he’d already won the argument.
“You’d better say your goodbyes to these two, little Tim,” he said, leaning closer and all but shouting at Tim. “You’ll be coming with us after Ft. Laramie, whether they like it or not.”
A tremor of panic flashed through Tim’s small body. Estelle felt every inch of it, and as she did, her rage towered high. Tim met Nelson’s eyes, his face drained of all blood. When Nelson grinned at him, Tim let go of Estelle and ran.
“Tim,” Graham called after him. His movements were limited, though. He stumbled a few steps before turning back to Nelson. “I’ve seen some low things in my day, Clarence Nelson, but you do beat all.”
“I’m just doing what’s best for the child.” Nelson straightened and tilted his chin up.
“You’re a fiend,” Estelle growled. She turned to figure out which way Tim had gone, but whichever way it was, he had disappeared behind the wagons. She’d have to look for him.
“I want you and you out of my sight,” Pete said to Nelson and Ruth. “And you’d better get your things out of my wagons,” he finished with Isaiah.
Without a word, Isaiah stood and marched to the back of one of the crew wagons to retrieve his things. Nelson had done his damage, and strode away to have a word with his wife.
“All the rest of you, get back to your own wagons. We’re moving out in fifteen minutes,” Pete finished.
The meeting was over. The council members got up and moved off, grumbling to themselves and shooting nasty looks at Estelle and Graham. Estelle did her best to ignore them.
“I’d better go find Tim and tell him everything will be all right,” she sighed.
“It would be for the best,” Pete agreed.
“Estelle.”
Before she could walk off, Graham caught her. He drew her close, kissing her with tender pride.
“We’ll fight this if we have to,” he said, “but it won’t come to that. I won’t let anyone take Tim from us.”
“I know,” she said. She kissed him back, then hurried off to begin her search.
Fifteen minutes later, she wasn’t so sure. As the wagons rolled out, oxen lowing and wheels clacking, Tim was still nowhere to be found. The train was moving on, but he was missing.
Chapter Eighteen
Graham rushed as fast as he could through the rolling wagons, searching everywhere he could think for Tim. There was no time to lose. A third of the wagons had already pushed ahead across the prairie.
“Tim?” he called, hobbling around a few of the wagons that were just getting ready to go.
“I can’t bear to think what will happen if we can’t find him,” Estelle said by his side. She was in a flat panic, but she kept her steps slow, matching his pace.
“He can’t have gone far on the open prairie,” Graham reassured her. He wished he was as certain.
“Are you looking for Tim?” Olivia asked as he and Estelle brushed past their wagon.
“Yes, have you seen him?” Graham answered.
Charlie straightened from the trunk he was lifting into the back of his wagon. He was dressed in a fine suit and brocade vest as usual, in spite of the heat. Olivia almost looked like a mouse beside him, but for the pride in her posture and the silent way she gave the orders for Charlie to lift their crates and barrels into the wagon. “I think I saw your little Tim run through here not more than fifteen minutes ago,” he said.
“He’s not quite our little Tim,” Graham said.
“You could have fooled me,” Charlie laughed. “That boy thinks the world of you.”
“Why did he run off?” Olivia asked.
Estelle and Graham exchanged a worried glance. In his heart, Graham knew the answer. He’d run because they’d let him down by allowing themselves to be bullied. He would do anything to right that wrong.
“It was the trail council,” Estelle said.
“What, that?” Charlie sneered.
“That thinks it has a lot of power,” Graham cautioned him. “They said they would take Tim away from Estelle, and it upset him.”
“Oh no,” Olivia said.
At the same time, Charlie said, “No wonder he ran.”
“Load ’em up, folks,” Pete’s cry echoed over the wagon train. “Line ’em up. We leave in five minutes.”
“We have to find him,” Estelle told Olivia and Charlie. She reached out to touch Graham’s arm.
He nodded, and the two of them set out again.
Josephine’s wagon was the last place they could think that he would go. It was a jumble of chaotic activity as the Chance children rushed around, tossing bags and some of the smaller boxes of supplies into the wagon.
“Careful or you’ll break it,” Josephine hollered after them. She stepped through the swirl of activity to meet Estelle and Graham as they arrived.
“Have you seen Tim?” Estelle asked point blank.
“Not since last night,” Josephine said. She shifted her stance. “Pete said that stupid trail council was going to meet.”
“It did,” Graham answered before she could say more. “They threatened to take Tim, so he ran.”
Josephine blinked. “That poor boy.”
“We really need to find him,” Estelle said. “He could be in danger.”
The sound of wagons rattling and wheels rolling underlined the truth of her statement. The front of the wagon train was already stretched out yards and yards ahead of them.
Josephine’s expression dropped to seriousness. “Well, I haven’t seen him or anyone else wandering out on the prairie away from the wagons,” she reasoned. “And if he did wander off, he’ll be noticed as the wagons spread out. If he didn’t, then he’s hiding in somebody’s wagon and will come along with us.”
“I can look for him if you’d like,” Libby Chance offered, poking her head out of the back of the wagon.
“Yes, please,” Estelle answered her with a relieved sigh. Her worry was still plain on her face. “Even if Tim is riding along in someone else’s wagon, we still need to find him. We need to talk to him.” She grabbed Graham’s free hand, squeezing it and meeting his eyes with hope and pleading.
Graham nodded and squeezed her hand in return.
“You’ll find him,” Josephine said. She smiled. “Children don’t hide because they want to get away from things, they hide because they want you to come find them.”
“Huh?” Freddy Chance pushed the small crate he’d been carrying into the back of Josephine’s wagon, then snorted. “In that case, I’m never hiding again.”
“Sure you will,” Josephine chuckled at him. “You know you love me, little boy.”
“Eew,” Freddy spat, then went back to packing up the wagon with a huge grin.
The exchange only made Graham’s gut ache to find Tim. He loved the boy, just as he loved Estelle. And just like Estelle, his life wouldn’t be complete without Tim.
“Come on,” he said, touching Estelle’s arm. “If he truly is hiding in someone else’s wagon, then he’ll have to come out at some point. And if he’s not in a wagon, he’ll be discovered soon.”
“I suppose,” Estelle replied. Graham could tell she wasn’t convinced, but there was nothing else they could do.
As the wagons cleaned up and moved out, they left nothing but empty prairie behind them, and no trace of Tim.
By the time they reached Ft. Laramie late that evening, Tim was still nowhere to be found.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if something happened to him,” Estelle panted as she made her third circuit around the wagons.
“Nothing could have happened to him,” Josephine reassured her. “Like I said, if he’d been left behind, we would have seen him. He’s got to be here somewhere.”
Estelle wasn’t certain that was a good enough answer. “What if he crawled into one of the wagons with dysentery?” she
fretted. “What if he’s been hurt and can’t come to me for help?”
“Now, now.” Josephine tried to soothe her by rubbing a hand on her arm. “It won’t come to that, I’m sure.”
Estelle wished she could be as sure.
“Tim?” she called out as she walked amongst the rows and clusters of parked wagons. “Tim, where are you, sweetheart?”
Her calls felt more than a little breathless. Everything Nelson had said in that farce of a council meeting echoed in her mind. If Ruth and Nelson did take Tim and any sort of a challenge came of it, what would she be able to prove? She and Graham had no legal claim on Tim, and Nelson was right—on paper, a politician and his wife would seem more suitable as parents than a former slave and a wounded soldier.
“You’re fretting about it,” Josephine said, circling an arm around Estelle’s shoulders.
“I can’t stop.”
She did stop though, and let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead and pivoting to make sense of the maze of wagons. In truth, she needed to make sense of the maze of her life and her decisions. As wonderful and sacred as it had been to make love with Graham, it had been foolhardy. It was another thing people could use against her if they had a mind to. The last thing she needed was to give out more excuses for people to think poorly of her, of Graham.
“Tim?” she tried again. “Sweetheart, come out.”
“You there.” Josephine stopped a middle-aged farmer as they rounded the edge of his wagon.
“Me?” The man glanced over his shoulder, then squinted at Josephine and Estelle.
“Have you seen a boy?” Josephine asked. “One of the orphan boys?”
The farmer stared at Estelle for a moment, then scratched his head. “I seen him. The towhead one, right?”
“Yes.” Estelle drooped with relief. “You’ve seen him? Where?” Hope rushed through her, and she peered around the man’s camp.
“I remember thinking it was odd, because I usually see him with you and that soldier,” he said. “He was climbing up in a wagon right before we set out at midday.”
“Oh.” Estelle let out a breath in disappointment. “But you haven’t seen him just now?”
“No, ma’am.”
Estelle continued to search the area, coming up with nothing. When her gaze came back around to the farmer, he was closer still, within arm’s reach.
“Which wagon?” Josephine had the presence of mind to ask.
The farmer made a face. “Not sure. I think, maybe, that was Dr. Pyle’s?”
“Thanks,” Estelle told him. She turned to go.
“Best of luck finding him,” the farmer called after her and Josephine.
It wasn’t until they were several wagons away that it occurred to Estelle to find encouragement in those words. Not everyone was as cold as the council.
They continued their hunt through the wagons, seeking out Dr. Pyle, but when they caught up with the good doctor as he checked in on the McGoverns, they were disappointed.
“I haven’t seen anything,” Dr. Pyle said. “I drove my wagon all afternoon and I’m fairly sure there was no one but me in it.”
“I don’t blame that child at all,” Mrs. McGovern said, weak still. “They tried to take him away from… well, not his mother, but….” She didn’t finish.
“They did,” Josephine spoke up on Estelle’s behalf. “If you see him, let us know.”
“We will,” Mrs. McGovern promised.
Estelle and Josephine moved on. The light was quickly dying by the time they made it back to the crew’s camp where Pete and Graham had their heads together.
“Did you find any trace of him?” Estelle asked, voice trembling.
“No,” Graham answered. He limped to her and took her in his arms as best he could. “Mrs. Adams thinks she saw him around old man Brewster’s wagon, but Brewster didn’t think so.”
Estelle brightened by a hair. “Old man Brewster is half blind. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t notice the wheels falling off his wagon.”
“Really?” Graham tilted his head to the side, considering.
“I bet Mrs. Adams was right,” Estelle went on. “Which means that Tim is with the wagon train, not lost out in the wilderness.”
It was a comforting thought, if not entirely reassuring. Graham managed a brief smile Estelle squeezed his hand in reassurance.
“Um, Estelle, I hate to bother you,” Hank interrupted the two of them. “It’s just that no one has started supper yet.”
“Oh, of course.” Estelle let go of Graham and hurried to the campfire. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure you have something soon.”
“Hold on a minute there, Hank, Estelle.” Pete peeled away from Josephine, holding up a hand. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s my job,” Estelle argued.
Pete frowned at Hank, who had the good sense to look ashamed of himself.
“Always thinking with your stomach, huh, Hank?” Pete shook his head at Hank, then turned to Estelle and Graham. “I won’t stop you from searching for that little squirt. I’ve seen the way Josephine is with our orphans now—I feel it too, truth be told. It’s more important to look out for the children than it is to settle the horses or cook supper.”
“Glad you understand, Pete,” Graham nodded.
The wagons were spread out around Ft. Laramie’s palisade. The people who had been traveling with them had set up camps all around, but new people, folks who had already been at the fort waiting for a wagon train to join for the rest of the journey, were everywhere too.
“Did I hear that you were looking for a little boy?” one of those new people, an older man in a well-cut suit asked them. “A towhead?”
“Yes,” Graham answered. “Have you seen him?”
“There was a boy inside the fort a few minutes ago,” he answered.
Graham and Estelle exchanged a hopeful look.
“Thank you, Mr….”
“Diver,” the older man told them. “Leopold Diver.”
“Mr. Diver. Have you—”
“Estelle, Graham!”
Their conversation was cut short as Lucy came rushing toward them from the end of the cluster of wagons nearest to the fort’s gate.
“I saw him,” she called out. She was breathless by the time she came to a stop in front of them. “I saw Tim.”
“Where?” Estelle asked, clasping a hand to her chest.
“He was with the wagons that arrived at the fort first. I didn’t get much of a glimpse of him, but it was definitely Tim I saw dashing into the fort.”
Estelle grabbed Graham’s arm, giving him a hopeful smile.
“Let’s go,” Graham nodded in reply.
He adjusted his crutch under his arm, then the two of them sped off as fast as they could for the fort.
Ft. Laramie was bustling with activity, even though there was less than an hour of daylight left, as the militiamen and soldiers manning the fort greeted the weary pioneers. More than a few of the men Graham and Estelle passed saluted at the sight of Graham’s leg and his now worn and faded uniform jacket. They smiled and nodded at Estelle as well, full of respect.
“See,” Graham said as they nodded back. “Not everyone is as dunderheaded as those old biddies in the wagon train.”
“Not everybody knows the truth,” Estelle replied warily.
“Not everybody has to know,” Graham countered. He paused to ask the nearest soldier, “Have you seen a young boy running around recently? A slight, towheaded thing.”
The soldier frowned in thought for a moment before saying, “There’s so many of you all of a sudden, I can’t rightly say I noticed one kid in particular.”
They got a similar answer from other occupants of the fort. No one had seen Tim, although more than a few were willing and set out to scour the fort in search of him. Within fifteen minutes, half a dozen people were wandering the fort calling out, “Tim! Little Tim, where are you?”
“What if we can’t find him?” Estel
le asked as she and Graham checked through the fort’s large stable. With a sudden sigh of both weariness and despair, she sank to sit on a bale of hay. “This is all my fault.”
Graham nearly stumbled at the words, changing direction and hobbling back to her.
“Sweetheart, it’s not your fault,” he said, sinking to sit beside her. He took her hand.
Estelle squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I should have said something to stop Mr. Nelson from scaring him sooner. I shouldn’t have tried to hide who I am. It’s the hiding that aggravates people so much, not the truth.”
“It’s the people that get aggravated, not any sort of truth, whether you keep it to yourself or not,” Graham insisted. “Folks are going to think what they’re going to think. You and I, we just have to live our lives regardless of what they say.”
Estelle sighed. “I should have done more.” She glanced up, meeting Graham’s eyes. “Maybe we’re crazy to think it,” she went on, “but love is about more than accepting each other for the faults and secrets we have. It’s about more than sharing a life between the two of us. It’s about opening our hearts to be a family, fighting for each other if needs be.”
“I know,” Graham said, his heart expanding and burning with pride in Estelle. “You’re right.”
“If we find Tim,” she said. “When we find him—”
A flicker of movement and a soft scrape pulled their attention away from each other and to the far corner of the stable. Several bales of hay were stacked nearly as high as a man. A pitchfork and some grooming tools were hung on the wall behind it. Snug between the wall and the stack of bales, a little towhead and a pair of wide blue eyes peeked out to see what was going on.
Estelle’s shoulders, her whole body, went weak with relief. Graham let out a breath, squeezed Estelle’s hand, then got up and hobbled slowly to the stack of bales. A few were positioned so that he could sit down again, which he did, glancing over his shoulder. Tim scooted back into hiding, but it was too late. They’d found him.
