Page 60 of Wagon Train Song
“You’ll have a full house what with Bertie and the girls.”
She laughed. “I hadn’t expected quite so many to accompany me. But we’ll manage.”
“What are Carson’s plans?”
“What do you mean?” She sidestepped a steaming pile of droppings Walt’s horse had left. “He’s with the Mounties.”
“Does he plan to stay when his three years is over?”
“Oh, that. He has almost a year left. Then he’ll accept the promise of free land. I suppose we’ll stay in town until he has a house built.”
Gabe directed the oxen around the trees ahead of them. “I remember how you used to talk about your dreams of the future. Your face would glow when you mentioned the joy of seeing your children grow up.”
“Healthy and happy. I remember. It’s still what I hope for.”
Bertie had his arm around Alice’s neck, talking to the goat.
“He doesn’t have the future you wished for him.” Gabe’s gentle voice rapped on an invisible door deep inside—one containing grief over what her son had lost.
Her words came slowly but firmly. “I’ve cried all the tears I mean to over what might have been. I choose to be happy for what is. He’s healthy and content, and I’m grateful for that.”
“He is a gentle soul.” He studied the southern view.
She followed his gaze. Released a gust of air when there was still no sign of a rider.
Gabe shifted his attention to her. “Your dreams used to excite you. Do they still?”
Dreams? Yes, she’d had them. She and Norman would grow old together. Their sons and daughters would grow into adults. Grandchildren would come to visit. The trees outside their windows would grow tall and strong. They’d sit by the fire and read to each other.
It was not meant to be.
“I had my dreams, and now they’re over.” She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.
“Hopes and dreams and faith in God are what make life worth living.” Silence followed his words as the wagon rattled along. “Maybe it’s time to dream again.” His voice deepened. “Would there be room for me in your dreams for the future?”
She stopped moving. He was getting ahead, and she hurried to catch up. “What are you saying?”
“Isn’t it plain?” A smile as warm as the summer sun and as welcoming as a mother’s embrace brightened his face. “Marnie,” he whispered. “I’ve grown to love you. Would you consider sharing my future?”
“But—” Her heart danced with the possibility, but her head reminded her of all the obstacles.
His warm, rough finger brushed along her cheek. “This is the wrong time and the wrong place. If we were alone, I would hold you and kiss you. And I’d hope you’d feel my love and return it.”
“But what about your dreams? I don’t see how I can leave my family and go further west.”
“Marnie, you are my dream.” His eyes said how much he cared. “Tell me you return the feeling.”
“You’d give up something you’ve wanted your whole life?”
“To share my life with you wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”
The bubble of joy she tried to control burst upward in a glorious laugh. “Gabe, I’d be glad to share my future with you.” She dipped her head. “I have grown to love you.” She squeezed his hand, grateful the others were facing the other direction. Even Bertie wasn’t paying attention.
Gabe’s laugh now emerged low and throaty. “We’ll find a way to be alone so I can kiss you. Maybe this evening.”
“I look forward to it.”
With her heart so full of warm joy, her smile was unquenchable as they continued their journey.
