Page 4 of Wagon Train Song
The girls crowded around her.
Gabe adjusted his hat even as he adjusted his thoughts to come at the situation from a different direction. “I remember Hazel was three or four when I last saw her. Which one of you is Hazel?”
The woman who stepped forward held a baby boy. Her hair was the palest blond. “I’m Hazel, now Mrs. Meyer. I can’t say that I remember you.”
“Don’t expect you would. Is your husband accompanying you?”
“My husband is dead.”
Her blunt answer set him back on his heels though he was certain no one could tell. “I’m sorry.”
The young woman dressed in trousers squinted at Walt. “Didn’t I see you in town some time back? Coming out of the churchyard?”
Walt had visited Bruffin? Gabe studied his elder son. The boy was dark, darker even than Gabe. He was a man who kept his thoughts to himself though Gabe had no complaints concerning Walt’s loyalty or his willingness to work. He returned his attention to the women. “Mrs. Woods, may I present my sons, Walt and Cecil.”
“Howdy, ma’am.” Both removed their hats and dipped their heads.
“It’s a pleasure to see you both all grown up. Your mother would be proud.”
“I agree,” Gabe murmured.
“Thank you,” Walt said. “I hope so.”
Cecil grinned. “Iknowshe’d be proud of me.”
Marnie chuckled. “Especially of your modesty?”
Cecil grinned wider.
“Girls, the Millers used to be our neighbors. I’m sure you’ve heard both me and your pa speak of them.” Her gaze, gentle on the girls, returned to Gabe with little gentleness lingering. “You’ve already met Hazel. This is Irene.”
The trouser-clad woman grinned, and her hand shot out. Cecil shook it, but Walt hesitated, bringing a hoot of laughter from the young lady.
“I don’t bite. Or at least, I haven’t since I was three.”
Walt shook her hand albeit briefly. “I’ll be on guard in case you revert.”
Irene laughed again. “Sounds like fun.”
Walt’s frown suggested otherwise.
“Ruby, say hello to our visitors.” As a pretty gal with rose-tinted blonde hair falling down her back stepped forward, Marnie continued. “This is my youngest daughter.”
She pulled forward another girl slightly darker than the others. “This is my adopted daughter, Angela.”
After appropriate greetings, Gabe glanced around. “Bertie?” From the few letters Norman had written, Gabe knew the boy had survived and grown into a man—at least in size. Norman hadn’t said much more.
“He doesn’t care for strangers.”
He almost winced at the blunt, dismissive response. Very well, she didn’t care to discuss her son. Warning heard and heeded.
“It was nice of you to come calling, but please, don’t travel with us. It would upset Bertie and make the journey difficult.” Having dismissed him, Mrs. Woods turned to the others. “Irene, would you check on your brother.”
“I’ll make supper.” Angela hurried to the house where the door closed with an audible click.
Hazel, with the child in her arms, followed.
Walt and Cecil led their horses away from the wagons. Did they think the matter was closed?
