Page 15 of Wagon Train Song
“We’re safe.” His voice did little to calm her.
“I don’t care for water any deeper than my ankles.” Not water like this that rose to the oxen’s bellies, splashed upward and wet her hands, and flowed on unmindful of a wagon and animals in its midst.
“Not even the soles of your shoes are going to get wet.”
The wagon lurched, and she dared to look up. They had reached the far bank and climbed to safety. She uncoiled her fingers until she could move her hands to her lap.
Joe led them to an almost nonexistent trail, and Cecil and Walt stayed beside Gabe’s team.
“Thought we could both ride for a bit.” Gabe answered before she could ask.
“But I should—” She pointed to the wagons ahead. “Petey and Hazel.” She’d thought to take Petey and let Hazel take a break.
“They’ll be fine. Louise can take care of anything.” A smile grew on his lips as he looked toward the wagon. “And everything, I think.”
Marnie’s tense muscles relaxed, and she laughed at his astute observation. “Of course she can. After all, that woman had the fortitude to train as a nurse.”
“Sit back and enjoy the scenery.”
No point in arguing. The sky was blue, the trees brimming with new life. She breathed in, filling her lungs to capacity. “It’s nice. Not as much dust.”
“Trees are closer too. You can hear the birds singing.”
“Hmm. A robin.”
Gabe cocked his head to one side. “A chickadee.”
A raucous bird flew overhead. “A crow,” they said in unison and laughed.
The crow flew close to Ruby and Angela’s wagon, setting Limpy to barking. Bertie, still riding in the back, patted the dog and got his face licked.
Marnie and Gabe looked at each other. Something warm and reassuring came from his gaze.
This journey might be more fun than she’d expected.
His sons kept givinghim glances and looking at each other. Cecil grinned, and Walt shook his head. He, no doubt, thought his pa was too old to enjoy the company of a pretty woman. The truth was, it rather surprised Gabe to realize he wasn’t. Nor too old to have forgotten the fun of mild teasing and the scent of a woman’s soap.
Whoa. No need for such wayward thoughts. Now was a good time to ask about the money Norman had lent—no, given—him.
“I know you were unaware of how Norman helped me.”
“Norman was like that. He did things out of the goodness of his heart without any further thought of it.”
A porcupine ambled alongside the trail, ignoring the passing wagons. Gabe pointed it out. “I need to know if it caused you any hardship.” What would he do to erase that struggle if she said it had?
“Not that I’m aware of. I’ve been thinking about what you said and remembered something. He had a gold watch he’d inherited from his grandfather. It seemed to disappear. I can’t say when I first noticed it, but I wonder now if he didn’t sell it to help you.”
Her voice carried no condemnation, no surprise, but shock at Norman making such a sacrifice grabbed at Gabe’s gut. He wished he had reins to grasp. Instead, he curled his fists and stared at the oxen’s swishing tails.
“Marnie, I am so sorry. I can pay back the money he gave me. I can repay the favor by going with you to Fort Taylor, but I can never replace a family treasure.” At least, his voice sounded strong, although his insides quaked something fearsome.
She swatted away a fly. “I believe Norman would be offended that you feel you need to. He believed a gift was given with no strings attached. He was a firm believer in the right hand not knowing what the left hand did.”
“That sounds like Norman. He was a generous man.”
“He was a good man.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Words were so inadequate. He’d lost Ellen when they were young. Had his hopes and dreams snatched from him. But to lose your mate later in life somehow seemed harder.
