Page 44 of Wagon Train Song
She’d probably have more to say if Bertie wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d tell him—he didn’t know what he meant.
“Bertie, look.” She pointed ahead. “Look at all the flowers. I wonder how many different kinds there are.”
“I go see.” He trotted to the area, a goat and dog at his heels.
Once Bertie left, she turned to Gabe, and her urgent expression made his insides twitch. “Gabe, I’ve never before spoken of that final day with Norman.”
“I’m honored you told me.” He waited, his dread rising at her intensity.
“There’s something more I want to tell you.”
“Look, Ma. Lots and lots of flowers.” Bertie held out a ragged bouquet. “They pretty?”
“Son, they are beautiful.” She took the flowers. As Bertie bent to pat Limpy, she murmured to Gabe. “Perhaps we could talk in private this evening.”
“I’d like that.” Could they find a secluded clearing like the one they’d shared yesterday? Perhaps he’d be able to hold her in his arms again.
Evening seemed a very long way off.
CHAPTER 12
The day was longer than normal or so it seemed. Anxious to tell Gabe what she’d discovered, Marnie watched for an opportunity. But they needed to be alone. Four times, she noticed Bertie busy elsewhere. Once, he and Alice meandered beside trees as Alice foraged. Twice, he walked behind Ruby’s wagon, talking to the cats. Later, he walked beside Angela while Ruby drove the oxen. Each time, Marnie had fallen in at Gabe’s side. She’d commented on the weather and the view as she tried to marshal together her thoughts that pressed so eagerly on her mind yet stalled on her tongue. Before she’d achieved that, Bertie returned with things he wanted to say to Gabe.
Giving up hope until there came a better time, she clung to the promise of meeting him alone in the evening.
The noon meal was hurried as usual, and then everyone rested. She couldn’t expect Gabe to give that up just because she wanted to talk. They set out again, but the afternoon passed with slow reluctance. Finally, the time came to stop for the day, but then she needed to set up her tent and help prepare a meal. Her glance went so often to Gabe, one of the girls would surely noticeand comment. She could only avoid looking at him by scanning for a place where they could hope for some privacy.
After supper, when he went to check on the oxen, she wandered away, as if searching for something in the bushes. Because there might be berries if one looked.
She turned toward where the animals were hobbled, caught his attention, and tipped her head to the nearby trees.
He gave a slight nod.
A smile curved her lips as she ducked under a low-hanging branch. After making her way through the trees, she entered a grassy area. It wasn’t much of a clearing but enough they could sit if they desired. She sank to the green-carpeted ground and breathed in air laden with the lingering scent of the afternoon’s heat. As she waited, she chuckled at how ludicrous this situation must appear. Here she was, a grown woman with grown children and a grandchild, sneaking around to meet a man.
The whisper of disturbed leaves warned her of his approach, and she scrambled to her feet.
A leaf-laden branch caught his hat, lifting it from his head. He held it rather than put it back on. Shards of light shone through the trees, slanting from the west. One bright spot lit his dark hair, giving it an ebony shine. His gaze found hers and drew her. Her feet parted the blades of grass as she went to stand in front of him.
Neither of them spoke. She couldn’t say what he thought, though if the warmth in his eyes meant anything, he was glad to be there. Maybe even glad to see her?
Where had that notion come from? Yet, how could she not wish it were so?
“You wanted to see me?” His husky tone sent anticipation rippling down her spine. He flicked his finger over her shoulder. “There was a bug on you.”
A strange unfamiliar urge made her want to grasp his hand, hold it close. But that would be inappropriate, so she intertwined her fingers and stepped back.
“I remembered something and wanted to tell you. Only now—” She ducked her head. “Now it seems a little foolish.” Why would he care?
“I doubt it’s foolish at all. In fact, I’ve been eager all day to hear what you have to say.” His warm voice eased away her tension.
“Let’s sit.” He indicated the grassy carpet. “I don’t know about you, but my feet aren’t used to so much walking.” He waited until she sank to the ground before he joined her. Leaves danced overhead, flashing their skirts in the lowering sun. Birds twittered their evening songs.
“I have never before talked about Norman’s last day.” She pleated the fabric of her skirt between her thumb and fingers. “I was too ashamed. Too full of guilt, but after we talked yesterday, I remembered things I’d forgotten.” Her breath rasped out. She lifted her gaze to his, absorbed his patience, and found strength to continue.
“That day…that final day, I was in a hurry to take care of things and get back. I didn’t like leaving him alone.” She’d already told him that, but he needed to understand how rushed she’d been, how distracted. “I gave Norman the laudanum and was leaving to put it away when he signaled me to come closer. ‘Marnie,’ he said. ‘I love you.’” Her throat closed off. “I told him I loved him, and he smiled so tenderly.” Again, she stopped to calm her emotions.
Gabe lifted her hand from her knee and held it between his, his grasp warm and reassuring.
