Page 29 of Wagon Train Song
Beside Marnie, her boy shook and twitched. He buried his face into Limpy’s fur and clutched the cats in his arms. With every thunderous roar, he jolted. He could have even groaned, but nature’s noises drowned out his voice. Storms always frightened him. This one was particularly suited to do so. Hunkering under a wagon didn’t offer him any assurance of safety. He pulled up one leg and shifted as if he meant to run into the deluge.
Marnie patted his arm and leaned close. “We’re safe, Bertie. The storm will soon end.”
He rocked back and forth. If he’d heard her, it failed to calm him. There was little else she could do to comfort him. Except?—
She started to sing a favorite song of his. One she’d sung to him as a child and over the years when he needed comforting. “‘Away in a manger…’” Her voice trembled. Would he even hear her above the storm?
Then another voice joined hers, deeper and calming. In minutes, Bertie’s shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in air. He lifted his head and smiled at her before turning to watch Gabe sing.
She leaned back to look at the man on Bertie’s other side. His gaze was on her son. A searing flash briefly blinded her. She blinked several times to clear her vision. Both Gabe and Bertie had to slouch to keep from banging their heads. Gabe’s expression seemed full of tenderness and concern for her son. Tears pressed to her eyes. Brought on by the bright streaks of light, of course. Not by the unexpected emotion of thinking someone could view her son the way she did, as being worthy of her love and care.
Gabe continued singing but shifted his gaze to meet hers. He stretched out his hand and squeezed her arm, nodding. As if to encourage her?
The lyrics stuck in her throat. She forced them out while shifting her attention back to her son and her intention of calming him. She didn’t need Gabe’s encouragement. Or perhaps, she meant she didn’t deserve it? Or want it? She didn’t want to want it. She had to stand on her own two feet. Depend on no one apart from her family.
Have no one depend on her. Except Bertie. That was a given.
Her voice grew weary, but still, she continued.
Gabe stopped. “The storm is moving away.”
Focused on singing—and ignoring Gabe—she hadn’t noticed but the lightning was in the distance, the flashes less frequent, the thunder but a muted rumble.
“It’s still raining.” She palmed wet tendrils from her cheeks and forehead. A soft rain now pattered without the driving force of the wind.
Gabe dipped his head to see the sky better. “The clouds are parting. Look, the sun is breaking through in the west.”
Marnie didn’t move because the only dry spot was where she sat, but rays of sunlight shafted through the misty rain.
“I get out now?” Bertie pulled his legs up, prepared to scramble from under the wagon.
“Wait until the rain stops.” She turned to the wagon beside her where Ruby, Irene, and Angela sheltered. She squinted past them. Good, Cecil crowded in with them. “Is everyone safe and sound?”
“Yes, Ma,” Ruby said. “Everyone else is under the other wagon.”
“The horses and oxen are still with us,” Irene called.
The rain stopped. Footsteps sloshed through the wet grass. Joe called, “It’s too wet to camp here. Let’s move on and see if we can find a dry spot.”
Wrapping her skirts around her to keep as dry as possible, Marnie crawled from under the wagon and got to her feet.
“There’s no point in getting any wetter than necessary.” Before she could ask what Gabe meant, he swept her into his arms.
Had she ever felt more awkward or been more surprised? But as she tried to think what to do, he crossed the sodden grass and deposited her in his wagon.
“Wait here while I get a cloth for you to dry the seat.” He hurried to the back and lifted the lid of a crate to retrieve a towel and hand it to her. “Most everything is dry in the wagon which is good news.”
“Um…” She grasped the towel, then held it up. “Thanks for this.” But she didn’t thank him for carrying her to the wagon. She wasn’t exactly grateful. A bit annoyed. Maybe even a touch grouchy. After Norman’s death, she’d locked her heart up tight. At the way he’d died, she’d double-locked it and thrown away the key. She did not care for anyone threatening those locks. Not even by showing kindness to Bertie and not by showing it to her.
Gabe jumped up beside her, leaving her scrambling to stop her wandering thoughts. A glance around revealed everyone was in a wagon. Bertie sheltered in the back of Ruby’s with his pets. Even Irene had her horse tied to the side of the first wagon as sherode with the girls. Joe rode ahead, and Gabe’s sons rode beside Gabe’s oxen as they set out.
Water kicked up from the animal’s hooves. The ground steamed as the late afternoon sun warmed the land. How could they hope to find a dry place? Or perhaps Joe hoped they’d travel long enough to give nature a chance to evaporate the water. Either way, she didn’t mind. A wet camp would be miserable.
But not the worst challenge they’d encounter if she believed half the stories she’d been told. Since she couldn’t change present circumstances, she sat back to look around her. They still traversed hilly ground, but here, the ground was only gentle swells. Trees grew thicker. She covered her mouth to hide a yawn.
“It’s been a long day.” Gabe must’ve noticed her yawn and been offering sympathy.
“The more miles we travel each day, the sooner we’ll reach our destination.” My, what a clever observation.
