Page 38 of Wagon Train Song
They washed every dish. Even the ones that hadn’t been used were dusty. She prepared potatoes for tomorrow while Angela put beans to soak and Louise mixed up a batter for cake, her wooden spoon drumming against the tin bowl.
A cheery whistling announced Irene’s approach. She stepped into the shady clearing, her hair damp and her skin glowing. “Come on, Ma. You’re next.”
No argument came from Marnie, nor did she linger to see if anyone would protest. She gathered up the things she needed and let Irene lead her to a pool some distance away, sheltered by the shade and protection of overhanging willows.
“Enjoy.” Irene ducked under the canopy’s branches. Leaves whispered beneath her boots as she hurried away.
Marnie shed her clothes in record time and dipped her toes into the blue, calm pool.
“Brr.” She ignored the cold. No matter what the temperature, it would feel wonderful after the dusty desert.
With a deep breath, she eased into the cold water until it reached her chest. Her body adjusted to the temperature, and she sighed in contentment as she scrubbed off the dirt and grime. She soaped her hair and then ducked underwater to rinseit. Although she was tempted to linger, the chill seeped into her bones. More importantly, the others were waiting their turn.
So, she stepped onto the grassy embankment and, in brisk movements, toweled herself off and dressed. She brushed her hair, using the towel to sponge away the excess moisture.
Still, she lingered. Returning to the others meant returning to…well, her life, her responsibilities, her?—
She squared her shoulders. Her family was what mattered. All that mattered. Not her past. Not her regrets. Not her future. Only her family.
Gathering up her things, she returned to the camp.
“I’m next,” Louise said. “We drew straws.”
Marnie sat close to the fire to dry her hair, but soon the heat drove her to retreat.
Gabe lounged against a tree, hat over his face. Not that she noticed. Or cared. She turned away, but there was nothing to look at but trees. Or was that a narrow trail? One suitable for a small animal like a deer or rabbits. Wanting to be on her own, she slipped away.
Trees crowded in on both sides, snagging her skirt and catching her loose hair. Then she entered a clearing, not more than twelve feet across, ripe with wildflowers. The scent of the flowers mingled with the smell of green leaves. The beauty and peace of her surroundings flooded her heart. As she’d once thought on this trip, it was like a special message from God.
A blessing? She didn’t deserve that. It was only a reminder of His power and majesty. His purity.
She sank to the soft grass, loving the beauty, inhaling the scent, and yet unable to ease the knot in her chest. Pulling her legs up, she leaned her chin to her knees.
Birds twittered in the branches overhead. Insects buzzed on the blades of grass. Leaves rustled in the sun. The sounds of nature didn’t settle her mind. Her life marched before her. Thegood—her marriage, her children, her friendships. And the bad—Bertie’s illness, Norman’s suffering?—
Her thoughts stalled there. In many ways, it was also where her life stalled.
For many months, she’d kept herself from retracing that time. So why now were these forbidden memories plaguing her? Regrets. Guilt. Sorrow. They all pulled at her, drove hot nails into her chest.
A sob erupted from her heart and moaned from her lips. She rocked back and forth unable to stop the tears or quiet the cries. Her tears flowed from an endless ocean. Her cries bled from a wounded heart.
“Marnie?”
At the sound of Gabe so close, she tried to stifle her weeping but failed and kept her face buried against her knees.
Grass rustled as he sat beside her. Close enough his sleeve brushed along her side. She smelled soap, so he must’ve been to the river to bathe.
She wanted to tell him to leave. But she couldn’t bear being alone with her accusing thoughts. He rubbed little circles on her back, the warmth of his hand reaching into her depths. Oh, how she longed for someone to hold her and tell her?—
Tell her what? Nothing anyone could say would ease this terrible burden.
Her chest expanded as she drew in a long breath.
“Marnie?” His voice, gentle and enticing, surrounded her. “What’s wrong?”
“Me. I’m what’s wrong.” The words blasted from her. Words she hadn’t meant to say, words she couldn’t pull back or regret having spoken.
His hand continued its slow, soothing rhythm on her back. “Marnie, there is nothing wrong with you. You’re exactly right.”
