Page 20 of Wagon Train Hope
Walt chuckled. “He was. His last words before he died were to Grandma. ‘I’ll see you in the sweet by-and-by.’”
“That’s nice.” Again, as when they were fishing, she was drawn to him and the depth of pain he must feel. “You must miss them a lot.”
“I do. Just as I expect you miss your pa a lot.”
“I wouldn’t wish him back unless he could be well.”
“I feel the same about my grandparents. They lived a good life.” His expression further softened. “And they’d want me to move ahead and live a life they’d be proud of.”
“My pa would feel the same way.”
A sense of camaraderie warmed her. They might see differently about many things, but on this, they shared the same tender respect for those who had raised them.
One hand pinning back her tangles, she tipped her face to the moonlit sky. “Do you think they can see us?”
He shuffled his feet. “I don’t know. But when I face them in eternity, I want them to be proud of me.” A pause. “More than that, I want to hear God say, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’”
“Guess that explains why you are so cautious about things.”
“Is that a bad way to be?”
She considered her answer, but before she replied, he spoke again.
“I like to be safe.”
“Safe is nice.” But couldn’t a person be safe without letting it steal from enjoying life? Couldn’t safety coexist with freedom?
The oxen chewed their cuds. The fire had died to occasional red bursts. Shuffling came from one of the tents as someone changed position, reminding her she should be in bed.
“I bid you good night.” She hurried away, but instead of crawling into a tent, she grabbed her bedroll from the back of the wagon and tossed it beside Bertie…or rather, beside Alice, who lounged at her brother’s side. Limpy lay at his feet, and the cats curled up at his other side.
The animals snuffled at her intrusion. Bertie stirred and mumbled something in his sleep.
The night was cool. The silvery moonlight glowed on each blade of grass. She pulled a light blanket over her and lay on her side, staring into the sky. Thoughts and feelings tangled in her mind. Safe? Or free? Words that warred with each other.
Restless, she kicked the covers off her feet. A lump jabbed her ribs, and she shifted away, seeking a better position. But something poked into her back. She gave a soft, exasperated sigh and readjusted her body. Closing her eyes, she told herself to go to sleep. But sounds intruded into her intentions. The lowing of an ox, Bertie’s gentle snore…
The thud of a footstep jerked her alert.
The steps moved away. It was the man on guard. Either Walt or Gabe.
All was well. She might as well go to sleep. But tension refused to leave her limbs. Slumber refused to ease her troubled thoughts. She slipped from her bedroll, tugged on her boots, and tiptoed away from the camp. When she was far enough that she wouldn’t disturb anyone, she stretched herarms to the sky and looked up.As long as we can see the same moon overhead, I can feel you in my heart.A yawning ache sucked at her. A feeling she didn’t understand or know how to handle.
She tiptoed to Hopper and ran a hand along his back. A ride in the moonlight would clear her thoughts.
“Hold it right there.” Walt’s hard voice came from the night. “Don’t do anything foolish.”
Surprise jolted her. Or was it alarm? Surely, he wouldn’t shoot around the animals.
“Walt,” she croaked. “It’s me. Irene.”
A sharp sound shattered the silence. “What is wrong with you? Wandering around in the dark. Do you want to get shot?”
“Wasn’t part of my plan.” Her airy reply probably annoyed him, but no more than his brusqueness annoyed her. After all, she wasn’t an idiot.
“And what, if I may ask, did you plan?”
Likewise, his censorious tone rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m going for a moonlight ride.”
