Page 42 of Wagon Train Song
Pleasant thoughts of a time long past filled Marnie’s mind. Smiling, she picked one incident. “Once, when there was a fair in town, your pa and Mr. Gabe decided they were going to raise money to repair two broken windows in the church. Theywanted to bring in enough to have stained glass panes installed.” Her spoon scraped the bowl as she cleaned up her dessert. “And they did.”
“Which windows?” Ruby asked.
“How’d they do it?” Hazel asked at the same time.
Gabe grinned. “It’s your story. You better finish it.”
Her answering smile came from a sweet corner of her heart. “They put on an arm-wrestling competition. Everyone paid to take on someone. The all-time winner got a cash prize. For an extra-large entry fee, the two top winners could arm wrestle Pa or Mr. Gabe. People threw in money to see it, but no one beat them. I was so proud of them both.”
“Pa?” Cecil’s jaw dropped.
“Our pa?” The girls’ eyes widened.
Marnie looked at Gabe, and they burst out laughing. Then she sobered enough to speak. “Ruby, to answer your question, they purchased the two windows on the south side.”
“The one of Jesus as a good shepherd and the one of Jesus with the children?”
“Those are the ones.”
“Wow.” Irene’s low whistle seemed to speak for them all.
Joe had been sitting back taking it all in. He laughed. “You forget your pa was once young like you?”
Cecil guffawed. “He might be getting long in the tooth, but I still can’t beat him in arm wrestling.”
Gabe ducked his head but not before he flashed a grin at Marnie.
Joe rose. “I’ll check on the animals.” His departure signaled time to end the meal and tend to the work.
Gabe climbedinto his wagon to make sure everything was secure. The narrow spot between crates with a bundled-up piece of canvas indicated where Marnie had slept while they crossed the desert. He took the canvas to the back, shook out the flecks of grass, rolled the fabric up, and stowed it behind the supply barrel.
The trunk holding his belongings had shifted, so he pushed it back into place. His belongings consisted of clothes for each season and a quilt he’d kept all these years even though he knew it was silly. He didn’t bother to lift the lid to see it. The quilt had accompanied him when he left Bruffin. He’d wrapped the boys in it when they were tiny, comforting them with memories of their mother. Or was he comforting himself? Now, the bright colors—red, blue, green, orange—were faded to muted tones, and some pieces were worn through.
So why did he keep it? More importantly, why had he brought it with him?
He ran his fingertips along the trunk’s cool metal edge. The quilt was a reminder of better days. Of dreams. Of sweetness and love.
Ellen and Marnie had worked on it together many afternoons. He’d often found them still stitching the pieces together, the children playing at their feet, when he returned from his work. Coming home early for the joy of watching them together. How easily they laughed. He’d been grateful Ellen had a friend like Marnie.
Walt’s call to someone jolted Gabe, and he refocused on his task. Yet his thoughts lingered on Ellen and Marnie, their heads bent over the sewing, their faces full of—he had no ideawhat name to put on what he saw. Theirs had been a joyous friendship.
The wagon creaked as he jumped to the ground.
Flames danced in the evening dusk. Louise stirred a pot over the fire. Hazel rocked her little son and hummed a lullaby. Angela folded garments. But his gaze stalled on Marnie. The firelight glowed on her face. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. She seemed mesmerized by the flames. His gaze lingered before he pushed himself away to check on the livestock.
Bertie emerged from the shadows, followed by his goat. “I help you, Mr. Gabe. What you gonna do?”
“Checking on Zeb and Pike.” He slowed to keep in step with Bertie and patted Alice on the head. Limpy followed, and Gabe patted the dog as well.
Bertie hugged each of the oxen. They’d hobbled them near plenty of grass, and the animals could reach water. Gabe lingered, watching Bertie talking to the big animals. The shadows darkened. It was time to return to camp and get a good night’s sleep.
Gabe yawned as he spread his bedroll on the soft ground. His lack of sleep was beginning to catch up. He paused long enough to see that everyone was safely settled. Two tents next to two wagons for the ladies. Petey cried out from one and was settled by a comforting murmur from his mother. Ruby’s laugh drifted from the other tent. A chiding whisper from Marnie brought a smile to Gabe’s lips. He made out Bertie’s bulk under the wagon closest to Marnie’s tent. If he wasn’t mistaken, Irene lay close to her brother.
Joe spread his bedroll across the fire from the others. Where he’d be the first to notice any visitors.
Something grabbed Gabe’s ankle, and alarm rocketed through his body. He jerked away, his fists coiled, prepared to take on any danger.
Cecil laughed. “You might as well go to sleep. Walt’s got first guard duty.”
