by Danni Roan
Was he starting to like Daliah? He pondered the question as he gazed up into a star lit sky. He could admit he admired her. She had been a constant help to anyone who had suffered even a minor injury as the wagon train had steadily wound south west toward their goal. Her quiet nature and soft voice put people at ease, somehow filling them with confidence as she worked toward easing their pain.
The young woman with the dark eyes and golden locks was hard working, and he had never heard her complain even after the longest day of travel. Spencer really wasn’t sure if the Hamptons would have fared nearly as well if the young woman hadn’t accompanied them on this journey. True, they were still strong and healthy for their age, but they were no longer young.
Settling on a stump near the glistening spring,
Spencer removed his hat, running his fingers through his dark locks then looked back toward the heavens as if seeking some answer he couldn’t find on his own.
Daliah Owens was a mystery to him. Was she a young woman following the Hamptons because she had nowhere else to go or was there some credence to the rumors he had heard about her and her dismissal from her job at the bank a few short months ago?
No matter how Spencer worried the problem he couldn’t match the young woman he had come to know with any shred of those rumors. She seemed to be exactly what you saw. A lone young woman doing her best to survive in a world that could be sometimes as cruel as it was beautiful. Even if she had made mistakes along the way, didn’t everyone? The west was a place for hope and new beginnings, what was past should stay in the past.
Spencer dropped his head as his own thoughts pricked his heart. Hadn’t he been holding on to the anger and bitterness of his own loss? He’d allowed the pain of losing his wife to cloud his heart and his mind making life the simple drudgery of survival, work, and care.
The wall around the lean man’s heart seemed to crack and shatter as he realized he had been going through the motions of life without actually living.
Rising he gazed at the stars one more time twirling his hat in his hand as a heavyweight eased from his heart. With a smile he turned back to his fire to check on Chad. Tomorrow was a new start for both of them.
***
Daliah wrapped herself in her bedroll under the wagon and peered out at the bright starts above. The smell of wood smoke, and prairie grass filled her nostrils as the cold air of evening began to descend upon the quiet camp.
Her mind drifted back to Mr. Gaines and the dances they had shared that night. She had danced with a few of the other men in the train that evening, but had ended up in Mr. Gaines arms at the end of the night.
She smiled remembering the feeling of his strong hands on her waist, and the smile that played across his face as they had glided over the ground. For the first time in many months, even years, Daliah felt safe, when Mr. Gaines took her into his arms.
Daliah had been devastated after the loss of her parents, but having her older brother, her security, her safety, had gotten her through that. Together they had clung to God and His promises as they had moved on mourning yet trying to live the life they were meant to have.
When her brother had died, Daliah’s world had shattered into a million pieces and if not for the kindness of the Hamptons, and the desperate realization that she must work or star ve Daliah feared she might have given up completely. It was as if she had been hanging on a high wire looking down at a crowd far below, and someone had ripped her safety net away.
Now even after years of living without him, Daliah still missed the energetic, self confident and dedicated assurance of her brother’s presence.
Gazing at the stars above, a soft smile flickered across Daliah’s full lips as she thought of her family, her heart filled with a gentle love that seemed to drown out the bitter pain of loss. As her eyes picked out the brightest stars in the heavens, she thought of each tiny flickering light as a remembrance even while her mind turned back to Mr. Gaines and young Chad.
“God, I know I’m not much account on this earth. I haven’t lived as well as others and I’m only a simple girl, but I pray for Mr. Gaines and young Chad. I pray that you will watch over them and keep them safe and bring them to this new home where they might find love and peace.” She paused gazing more closely at the stars and picking out the constellations her brother had taught her so long ago. “Amen,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
Chapter 14
The extra day of rest near fresh water and good feed was exactly what the party needed as they rolled out onto the prairie at the crack of dawn a day later with bright smiles and rested bodies.
A golden sun was peaking over the eastern horizon as the wagons trundled across the dusty prairie toward the promise of hope, home, and happiness.
Daliah lifted her face to the warmth of a new day like a daisy turning its yellow head toward God. She was clean, and warm, and well fed and her heart was filled with the hope of a brighter future.
The sound of a galloping horse made her smile as she caught a glimpse of Mr. Gaines riding toward her.
“Chad asked if he could walk along with you a bit,” the man said, meeting her gaze. “Would you mind?”
“I’d count it a privilege,” Daliah said, with a grin as Spencer swung his son into the dew drenched grass. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he said. “You mind Miss Owens,” he finished touching his hat politely then wheeling and galloping toward the front of the line.
“Aren’t you tired of walkin’ all the time?” Chad said, trudging along beside her. “Maybe you could ride along with my pa sometime if your feet get tired.”
Daliah suppressed a giggle at the boy’s words. “I think I’d take up more room on your pa’s horse than would be good,” she said instead. “Besides, I like walking.”
“You do?”
“Yes, it gives me time to think.”
“About what?”
“Everything,” Daliah answered stretching her arm to encompass the prairie. “I think about where we’re going, and what it will be like there. I think about my family and friends, and sometimes I talk to God.”
The boy shot her an odd look making her grin again. “Does God answer?” he asked.
“In His way, yes.”
“How?”
Daliah lifted her head looking at the wagon on her right. “One example is when I had nowhere to go and no one to look after me. I asked God to show me which way to go and then the Hamptons invited me to join them. That was one answer.”
“I don’t think Pa talks to God,” Chad admitted. “He’s quiet like, most days.”
“I’m sure he’s busy keeping us all safe as we travel,” Daliah said.
“He had fun last night though,” Chad said. “I think he enjoyed dancing. I liked your dumplin’s best, is what I liked.”
Daliah laughed looking down at the boy with affection. The scamp was as likely to be found dozing in someone’s wagon as throwing stones at a jack rabbit on any given day. He could find trouble in a heartbeat, but she felt a kinship to him just the same.
“Maybe I’ll make some more dumplings when we get closer to our new home,” Daliah offered. “We’ll celebrate.”
“Can I go play with Trey?” Chad asked, suddenly looking along the line of wagons toward the boy he admired so.
“Why don’t I take you up there myself,” Daliah said. “I’ll see if Trey is feeling better today.”
“Okay,” Chad replied skipping on ahead as Daliah lifted her skirts hurrying to keep up.
They found Trey driving his mother’s team of oxen with a short prod and an easy way. The young man had taken on a great deal of responsibility as the man of the family as they traveled toward where his father was getting ready to set up a store.
“Hi Trey,” Chad called stepping up to the older boy. “What ya doing?”
Trey smiled. “The same thing I’ve been doing for nearly two months,” the young man said. “Driving the team, course I’m also trying not to
itch under my arm at the same time,” he added, grinning at Daliah.
“Sounds like that burn is healing then,” the young woman said. “I’m glad. Is there any trouble moving it?”
“Nah,” Trey replied. shifting his prod and rotating his arm in every direction he could think of.
“Oh Daliah,” Mrs. Script hurried around the back of the wagon. “Trey’s doing just fine,” she said relief evident in her eyes. “Mr. Gaines said we might make it to our stopping point in three weeks if the weather holds, and we don’t have any more troubles,” she continued a cheery tone in her voice.
“You’re meeting your husband in the no-name town we’re headed to aren’t you?” Daliah asked.
“I am,” Mrs. Script said a bright smile covering her face. “William took a job on a steam boat delivering supplies to folks along the river, and when he saw the place, he decided to stop and find us a new start.”
“I’m looking for the same thing,” Daliah said falling into step with Mrs. Script as they followed the wagon smiling as Trey helped Chad into the wagon to rest his legs.
“Do you know what to expect in our new home?” Daliah asked. She couldn’t help but worry about how she and the Hamptons would be making a living. Perhaps she could cook in the camp for single men, or take a job washing on a ranch.
“Do you smell smoke?” Trey asked as the heavy oxen lumbered along the trail.
The sound of horses thundering along the trail startled all of them as Mr. Gaines and Ben raced toward them shouting.
“Fire! Fire!” Spencer called his heart pounding in his chest. He had spotted the prairie fire racing their way as he’d been out scouting the trail. It was still a few miles away but with the wind sweeping this way it would be here soon.
Daliah looked up fear closing her throat as she reached for Chad pulling him roughly from the wagon seat.
“We have to get to the Hamptons,” she shouted as Trey blinked. “You too,” she added grabbing Mrs. Script. “Trey, turn the oxen loose and run for the Hamptons wagon!”
“Give me Chad,” Spencer yelled sliding to a stop in a shower of twigs and dust.
“Turn the Oxen loose!” his voice raised to be heard along the line, they’ll have to run. Get into the horse-drawn wagons!” his voice cracked.
People scrabbled, fear making their motions jolting as panicked tears began to fall.
Daliah raced to the Hamptons pushing Mrs. Script into the wagon as Trey climbed into the seat next to Olive.
“Wild fire!” she yelled pointing toward Mr. Gaines’ lathered horse. “Follow him and grab anyone you can along the way!”
Mr. Hampton clutched the lines in his hands turning the horses toward Mr. Gaines who was directing the over full wagons pulled by four hitch horse teams as smoke reached the edge of the prairie within view.
“Hold on,” the old man shouted lashing the reins across the horses’ rumps, and heading away from the blaze.
Daliah wrapped her arms around Mrs. Script as the wagon lurched into a jostling run bouncing and jumping over uneven ground as it raced to safety.
Behind her through the canvas cover of the wagon she could see other teams charging behind, the lesser horses racing at top speed as their drivers and fear drove them forward. Around them, heavy oxen free from their cumbersome burdens, bawled, wild eyed as they charged away from danger in the wake of the wagons.
“My wagon,” Mrs. Script sobbed as behind them an angry glow engulfed all that had been left behind.
Ahead of them Daliah could hear Mr. Gaines shouting, encouraging the wagons to greater speed. He’d spotted a trickle of a stream a mile in the distance, and their only hope was to cross the stream before the leaping tongues of flame reached them.
Mr. Hampton lashed at his team his voice a ragged prayer as the horses plunged down the steep slope toward the water splashing across the stream then dragging on the reins to pull the horses into a long arch as others followed.
As the wagon slowed Daliah leapt from the back racing to the stream where the last wagon rocked nearly tipping as it struggled across, the tail of the wagon sparking into flame as the wind shifted cinders onto the canvas.
Stumbling as the wagon continued, Daliah grabbed a bucket and plunged back into the stream filling the bucket and throwing it onto the smoldering cover where children stared out in tear washed fear. Another bucket splashed from the other side as friends and neighbors hurried to drown flames on the still moving wagon.
Struggling up the now muddy bank, the last wagon staggered to a stop. The weary travelers watched as the dry grass of the prairie on the other side of the stream was consumed by lashing tongues of flame.
Daliah brushed her hand across her face smearing the dark smudge of soot on her forehead then hurried to the wagon to check on the children.
Several of the smaller ones were clinging to their mothers, while men did their best to tend to over stressed stock and take inventory of their rigs.
Shock, fear, and adrenaline permeated the small gathering as Mr. Gaines and Mr. Ben rode around the camp trying to calm jangled nerves.
“Where’s my stock?” Trey called, his eyes red from the smoke that drifted across the shallow stream as the fire crept further down the path they had just covered. “Has anyone seen my stock?” he asked again wiping moisture from reddened eyes.
“Most of them seem to be here on our side,” Mr. Gaines called, gazing around them from his vantage point on horseback, his voice steady as he approached the boy. “They followed the wagons. We’ll round them up again son.”
Trey nodded wiping his eyes on a sleeve as he turned to help his shivering mother from the Hampton wagon.
“Daliah take Chad,” Spencer said not realizing he had used the young woman’s Christian name. “I’ll see what I can do to round up the stock and check on everyone.”
He was gone before Daliah could reply as she lowered his son to the ground.
“Did everything burn up?” Chad asked still holding to her hand. “Will we have to walk from now on?”
“No Chad, everything didn’t burn up,” Daliah replied praying that it was true, “and even if it did, there are enough of us left to see us into Texas.”
“You think so?” Mrs. Script asked. “You think anything could have survived that?”
Daliah wrapped her arm around the other woman moving the little troop toward the front of the wagon where Mr. Hampton and Trey were unhitching the heaving, sweat lathered team.
“I’m starting some tea and biscuits,” Mrs. Hampton said straightening her bonnet that had hung crookedly down her back. “We can all use a good strong cup of tea to settle our nerves,” she added her hands shaking as she tied the bonnet in place.
“Will you help Olive?” Daliah asked walking Mrs. Script to the stove that Mrs. Hampton had unloaded from the wagon. “I’m going to check in on everyone.”
Turning, Daliah walked among her shaken friends calling the younger single men to tend the horses as she moved women and children toward Mrs. Hampton’s heavy kettle that was starting to steam.
There had been several bruises and abrasions during the rough and terrifying drive to cross the stream, but thankfully, no one had been seriously injured, and at least half of the wagons that had made it to safety were undamaged.
“Miss Owens?” Spencer called to the young woman as she finished bandaging a scrapped elbow. “Would you mind coming with me?” the trail boss asked, his eyes serious.
“Of course,” Daliah said worry coursing through her like a shock of lightning. “Is anything wrong?”
“It’s my partner Ben. He’s not feeling well after that ride, says his arm hurts something fierce.”
Daliah stopped in her tracks looking up to meet Spencer’s eyes. “I need something from the wagon,” she said, not waiting on his reply as she lifted her skirts and ran.
Spencer waited impatiently for Daliah to catch up again. She was out of breath, but she didn’t slow down until they reached Ben at the lead wagon, w
here the older man sat propped against a wheel.
“He doesn’t look so good,” Daliah said. Opening a small carpet bag she had brought with her and examining the older trail boss. His pale waxy skin made her fear that they were too late. “I’m not trained for this sort of thing, but my mother said that these are signs that the heart isn’t working proper. I could help him or hurt him,” she finished pleading with Spencer with her eyes.
“Do whatever you can,” Spencer said. “Ben is a good man, he deserves to see his new home.”
Daliah nodded reaching into the bag and pulling out a tiny bottle and dropping the smallest bit of liquid onto Ben’s tongue. The man’s eyes fluttered open as she eased him to the ground and undid the top buttons of his shirt.
