Page 11 of Wagon Train Hope
Cecil,riding at Walt’s side as they searched for the best passage, glanced behind.
“Stop,” he hollered.
Now what? Walt didn’t bother to rein in as he shifted to look over his shoulder, but the sight had him turning his horse and racing back to the wagon, hard on Cecil’s heels with Joe following.
“Whoa.” Cecil signaled Louise , who drove the wagon.
She did as he said, her expression questioning. “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve got a wheel about to fall off,” Cecil said.
The men rode to the side of the wagon, where a back wheel tilted ominously. Two spokes were broken.
Walt pushed his hat back on his head. “It’s ready to give way.”
With a creak of leather, the men dismounted and stared at the wheel. Cecil squatted and examined it. “I could fix it if I had the equipment.” He shrugged. “How far to the nearest town that would have a blacksmith or, better, a wheelwright?”
Joe studied the area as if searching for landmarks. “Royal ismaybe ten miles northwest.” His face impassive, he spread his hands. “We won’t be going anywhere until the wheel is repaired. We’ll make camp here. Take the oxen down the hill for water.”
The slope to the river was gentle, the grass abundant. The oxen would be content there.
Walt couldn’t say what the others were thinking, but he was considering the best way to get the wheel repaired.
“Pa, why don’t I take the wheel to town in our wagon?” Cecil offered.
Pa nodded. “Seems best. That will leave two wagons here.”
Walt held back a protest. Two wagons offered little protection. He studied the land around them. There were groves of trees in the hollows and taller ones along the river. Too far away to offer shelter to the crippled wagon. They’d be visible for miles. But then, so would any riders. Nevertheless—Lord God, protect this group of people from unwelcome and dangerous intruders.
Irene clicked her tongue to signal the oxen and drove her wagon at right angles to the crippled one.
Cecil helped Louise unhitch her team of oxen and lead them down the slope to the river. Irene and Angela managed their pair on their own. Walt had offered to help them a few times in the past, but Irene insisted she didn’t need help. So he used his energies where they were appreciated—helping with the broken wheel.
The men put a block of wood under the axle to use as a fulcrum. They searched the woods for a suitable long branch, and with three of them lifting, the wagon rose. Pa placed more wood under the axle. Then, they removed the damaged wheel.
Walt helped put it in the back of the wagon while Cecil prepared to drive the oxen.
“I’ll go with you.” Joe rode beside Cecil as the pair headed out.
Once they were out of sight, Walt rubbed the back of his neck, studying the situation. Bertie romping in the tall grass with his pets brought a smile. Pa and Marnie sprawled on a quilt in the shade of a wagon, talking too low for others to hear. Walt’s smile widened. Louise and Angela gathered wood and built a fire while Hazel and Ruby mixed up batter in big bowls, taking advantage of the break.
He didn’t bother looking for Irene. But her horse was in sight, so she couldn’t have gone far. As if in answer, she jumped from one of the wagons, carrying a fishing pole and a bucket.
“Ma, I’ll bring us fish.” She glanced at Walt, then spun on her heels and took a hurried step toward the river.
He trotted after her. “Got another pole?” Now, why had he said that? She wouldn’t welcome his company, and he wasn’t seeking hers. “Two of us can catch twice as many fish.”
Did his words sound as weak as they felt? Like he wanted her to invite him but was afraid she wouldn’t? Which wasn’t what he was thinking. Not at all. No sir. He was only going along to keep her out of trouble.
He clamped down on his teeth, trying to ignore the untruth he tried to make himself believe.
Sky-blue eyes, flashing with sunlight, regarded him. “I suppose that’s true. Here.” She handed him her pole and scrambled into the back of the wagon to retrieve another. The wagon tilted as she dropped to the ground, almost at his feet. He clenched his teeth to keep from jumping away.
“Let’s go, then.” Her long legs took long steps, but his legs were longer, and he had no trouble keeping up. Her walk became a walk-run. She was challenging him.
“You want a race?” He figured his tone was mild enough to convey it was merely a passing thought.
“I suppose you think you can outrun me?”
