Page 11 of Wagon Train Song
“They have both passed away. Pa eight years ago now and Ma two years past.”
“I’m sorry.” Had Norman mentioned it, and she hadn’t taken note?
“We don’t get to choose what happens in our lives, but we do get to choose how we’re going to respond to it.”
The words, so unexpectedly wise, suggested he’d faced difficult choices and chose a path that avoided bitterness. Maybe someday she’d gather up the courage to ask for specific details.
Alice galloped over to a tasty-looking bush beside the road, Bertie in her wake. The lead wagons continued on their way, but when Marnie slowed to stay with her son, Gabe stopped his oxen.
“You don’t need to wait for me.”
“It’s kind of fun to watch Alice standing on her hind legs to reach the tastiest leaves.” He laughed, a pleasant, contented sound. “At least, I assume that’s why she’s reaching for them.”
Contented? Why had that word crossed her mind? She knew far too little of him to make such an assumption. And yet ifsomeone had asked her to give a word of assessment regarding him, it’s the one she’d use.
She shifted to watch Bertie more closely, and if that allowed her to study Gabe out of the corner of her eye, surely no one would notice. His face had weathered into pleasant lines that indicated either squinting in the sun or smiling at things. Both, she guessed. His jaw was firm, darkened by the black shadow of his whiskers. Norman had once called him “a man’s man.” She’d asked where he’d heard such a term and what it meant. Apparently, he’d read it in a news article and took it to mean a man people looked up to and other men admired. Still not quite sure what the description meant, she could nevertheless see Gabe had an aura about him of confidence blended with kindness.
She admired the qualities.
Not that she meant to let that admiration mean anything but a passing acknowledgment.
“Ma? Something wrong?” Irene called, jerking Marnie away from her thoughts.
“Just waiting for—” But Bertie and Alice were several yards ahead at the back of Ruby’s wagon. He appeared to be talking to his pet.
“Ma!” Irene’s alarm jabbed up and down Marnie’s spine.
The warning notein Irene’s voice brought Gabe’s head up. He scanned their surroundings but saw nothing concerning. He eased to his left to see past the other wagons. A horseback rider approached. Had it triggered such reaction? Marnie raced ahead to walk at Bertie’s side. Irene rode close to his other side. Just as they’d done approaching Bruffin.
Bertie didn’t like strangers.
When Bertie was upset, it seemed he ran.
Gabe urged his oxen forward to close the distance between his wagon and Ruby’s as he had done earlier in town. They breathed down Bertie and Marnie’s necks. She glanced back, saw the animals, and mouthed a thank you, then refocused on her son, petting the cats in the back of the wagon, talking to Bertie, and distracting him from the rider who rode by with a polite tip of his hat.
The wagons creaked. Walt’s horse, walking beside Ruby’s wagon, snorted and tossed its head, bringing a firm word from Walt. Not until Bertie chased Alice to the side of the trail did the travelers relax.
Marnie slowed to walk by his side. “Thanks for helping with Bertie.”
“All I did was keep my oxen moving.”
She looked ready to argue, then changed her mind. “Can you tell me about this debt you think you owe Norman?”
The memories rushed forward as they always did when he recalled those days. Memories that were no longer painful but a dark part of his life. “When Ellen died so unexpectedly and left me with two little boys to raise, I guess you could say I kind of lost my way. I didn’t see how I could go on.” She’d better not hear the way his throat had grown tight. “I asked Norman to take my boys.” The constriction stopped any further words.
“What?” Marnie stared at him. “Norman never said a word to me.”
Gabe found his voice. “Because he talked sense to me instead. He spent many hours with me. I apologize to you for that. I know you had your hands full with sick babies and could have used his help.”
“I had no idea. I thought he was busy with projects. His carpentry work often had him putting in long hours.” Her armscrept around her middle, and she ducked her head, growing thoughtful. “I don’t see that as being anything but a good friend and a good neighbor.”
“There’s more.” So much more. He avoided a steaming pile of manure and used the diversion to gather his thoughts. “He came to offer his condolences and found me in the very pit of despair. I’ve never told anyone but Norman what a dark place I was in. How was I to bury my wife and the mother of my boys? Norman got a neighbor woman in to watch the boys, then took me to the undertaker and preacher to arrange the burial and funeral.” Each word grated up his throat. “He returned on the day to help me dress the boys and set out clothes for me. Then he made sure I got to the church.”
Marnie’s hand brushed his. “I wasn’t able to attend. It’s something I regret.”
His fist relaxed under her touch. “Ellen would have understood. It was a tough time for many of us.”
“Still, Norman was only doing what a good neighbor would do.”
