Page 33 of Wagon Train Hope
“I’ll be going to bed,” Walt said. “Pa, you and I will replace Cecil and Joe in a couple of hours.” With a murmured good night intended for the entire group, he got his bedroll and slipped under the Miller wagon. He didn’t so much as look in Irene’s direction. As if she had ceased to exist.
Her knuckles popped as she clenched her fists.
Walt’s leaving signaled everyone to head for their own place of rest. Irene was the last to rise. She spread her bedroll under Ruby and Angela’s wagon close to the outside where she’d see any intruders. Walt might not think she was any good as a guard, but she’d prove otherwise. If anyone approached from this side of the circled wagons, she’d hear. She’d deal with it. She patted the cold steel of the rifle by her side.
Cool evening air descended, and she pulled a woolen blanket over her shoulders, although she did not remove herboots. No sir. If someone threatened the camp, she was ready. The pale moonlight did little to reveal anything beyond the wagons, but she scanned the area, straining into the darkness. The grass bent and bowed before the breeze. A night bird called out, but only once, so it wasn’t a cry of alarm. Cecil roused Walt and Gabe. Their boots thudded on the ground as one went to the animals, the other circled the wagons. Still, she lay awake. Watchful and determined.
“Gabe!” Ma’s call jerked Irene alert. She sat up and groaned. How long had she been asleep? A ridge of pink along the horizon promised dawn. She’d slept away a good portion of the night.
Ma’s voice continued. “Did you move some of the meat?”
“No,” Gabe answered. “Why?”
“I’m sure I had all the racks full.”
Irene hurried to join them. “You did, Ma. I remember.”
Louise and Angela came from their tents, running fingers through tousled hair.
Gabe stirred the coals and added wood. Flames flared, revealing what Ma had said. The racks were noticeably less crowded.
Joe appeared from the shadows. “Stolen.” He bent low to study the ground and grunted. “Moccasin tracks.” He straightened. “I’ll find whoever did this.” On silent feet, he followed the tracks.
Irene frowned at the drying rack. When Walt joined them, she stomped his way. “Weren’t you on watch?”
“Joe and I were.” His guarded tone said he didn’t care for her thinly veiled accusation. “Before that, Pa and Cecil.” His eyes glittering with reflected firelight, he refused to look away. “The theft could have occurred any time.”
“I should have stayed up.” Crawling under the covers was a mistake. It had been too comfortable, too cozy. Impossible to resist sleep.
Ma raised a hand. “I believe we all did our best to protect the camp. When we’ve done our best, we have to trust God with the rest.”
Irene held Walt’s gaze a heartbeat longer. He was so busy being careful that they’d been robbed.
“Are we sure that’s all that’s missing?” Her words sent everyone to their wagons to check.
“Nothing missing here,” Hazel called.
“Nor here,” Ruby added.
Ma and Gabe checked his wagon and declared nothing was gone.
It was only some meat. They could spare it, share it. The intruder didn’t have to steal it.
Nevertheless, she should’ve stayed awake. Proven to Walt how capable she was.
Ma bustled through breakfast preparations. Irene hurried to ready the venison chops she’d put aside for the meal while Louise mixed up biscuits. The others went to do a task. Many hands made light work. Something her parents had taught her.
Walt returned to guarding the camp.
Not that he did it alone. Everyone kept darting glances to the trees, watching for any sign of movement. Bertie stayed close to Ma’s side.
“Irene, the meat,” Ma called.
Irene jerked back to the smoking griddle and the sizzling chops. She flipped the meat before it scorched.
The meal was ready. No one suggested they wait for Joe to return. He would come back when he’d found the intruder or decided there was no danger.
Gabe stood. “I’ll ask the blessing.”
