Page 34 of Wagon Train Hope
Irene concentrated on his words. Something about his strong faith comforted her. When he prayed for their safety and Joe’s and asked for the thief to be found, she sucked in adeep breath. The most satisfying she’d taken since Ma’s cry had shaken her awake.
They ate more leisurely than normal, knowing they wouldn’t be moving on until the meat was dry.
But Ma drained her cup of coffee and rose. “We can do laundry while we wait.”
Irene eyed the food set aside for Walt and Joe. Yesterday, she’d taken supper out to Walt. But this morning…she curled and uncurled her fingers. Walt had dismissed her as easily as one brushes off a fly. Her insides burned with—she didn’t know what to call it, but she sure didn’t like it.
Ma handed her a plateful. “Walt must be hungry.”
“Let Ruby take it. I’ve got something else in mind.”
Ma studied her, sighed, and signaled Irene’s younger sister.
For a moment, Irene didn’t move. She almost changed her mind and then shook her head and strode toward the trees.
“Irene.”
She ignored Ma’s protest and circled the camp until she reached her horse. But she hadn’t escaped Walt’s attention.
“You aren’t leaving camp until Joe says it’s safe.” Before she could escape, he pushed in between her and her horse.
His angry tone grated. So she jerked up her chin. “Who says so?”
“Me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, as immovable as a brick wall.
She would argue, but even in her head, it sounded childish and petulant. Besides, it wasn’t escape she wanted. It had never been what she wanted.
A familiar sensation wheeled up, threatening to drown her in its rush. She widened her eyes to stop the flow.
“Irene, I didn’t mean to offend you last night.” His soft words were almost her undoing.
“Really?” Sharpness was her only defense. “What did you mean to do?”
He lowered his arms, stuck his fingers in his front pockets. “I kept thinking of those men from the morning. If they found you alone—” He swallowed audibly. “I couldn’t stand to think of you being hurt.”
Putting her back to him, she stared at the now-bright sky. He made it sound like he cared. She didn’t dare believe that. When other things or other people called for his attention, he’d forget what he said, and she’d be left with a heart full of shattered hopes.
“I can take care of myself.” She strode away. His plate of food waited on a nearby stump. “Better eat your breakfast before the flies get it.”
“Irene, wait.” His footsteps thudded after her, but she hurried on without slowing and jumped across the wagon tongue to stand staring at the meat drying in the sun.
What had he wanted to say? It didn’t matter. But a hollow place remained in her thoughts, and she longed to know.
Only if whatever he meant to say was accepting and approving. Fearing it wouldn’t be, she would not return and ask him.
Walt staredat the plate of food. More venison. Meat he and Irene had brought in together. He’d thought they were a good pair that they worked well together. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—stand by and let her do things that put her in danger. And if that meant they were at odds, well, so be it. It wasn’t what he wanted, but?—
He shrugged, but it didn’t dismiss his troubling thoughts. Then he sat and dug into the food Ruby had carried to him. Ruby. Not Irene. But he shouldn’t have been surprised.
She made it plain she didn’t welcome his protection. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need it. And he meant to provide it. Whether she welcomed it or not.
The meat was strangely tasteless today. He ate it anyway. Things couldn’t always be easy, fun, or even satisfying. Sometimes a person had to do what needed to be done. A dozen examples raced through his mind. The time he’d had to put down a dog who’d been trampled by a bull. That wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. Helping Grandpa to the toilet when he got too weak to go on his own. Again, not easy but necessary. Looking after Irene was no different except maybe that she’d resist him.
Not that he’d let that stop him.
He cleaned his plate and set it aside to take to the camp when someone relieved him from guard duty. Unless?—
The ladies bustled back and forth beyond the opening between the closest wagons. Busy as always.
