Page 36 of Wagon Train Hope
The pages opened to where a leather ribbon, no thicker than the stem of a tiny flower, marked the place. Proverbs. Words of wisdom to guide his life.
As if to prove his thought, his gaze rested on the third chapter, and he read,Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
He needed to trust God to guide his thoughts and?—
“Here comes Joe,” Pa called. “And he isn’t alone.”
Walt set the Bible aside. Later, he’d put it in his saddlebag within easy reach. Or maybe… He patted his breast pocket. He’d be like his grandpa and bring it out whenever he had a few minutes or needed to realign his thoughts. In the meantime?—
He hung back, out of sight, where he planned to remain until he learned if Joe’s arrival with another, or others, held danger.
9
Irene was on her feet the moment of Gabe’s announcement. She glanced over her shoulder to where her rifle stood. She inched backward until she had it in her hands.
Hazel scooped up Petey, retreating to the shelter of her wagon as they waited for Joe to reach the camp.
Irene relaxed marginally when Joe strode in with a boy at his side. He wasn’t tall, only came to Joe’s shoulders. Must be anywhere between twelve and sixteen. Long, black, matted hair half hid his face. His western-style trousers and a button-front shirt were torn at the knees and elbows. His moccasins appeared to be genuinely Native. Anger darkened his face. Or was it fear?
Irene scanned the camp. Cecil was out with the livestock. Bertie had withdrawn to the back of Ruby’s wagon, his pets with him, almost out of sight and safe for now. Irene would make sure he was.
Everyone else was accounted for but Walt.
Where was the man who was so concerned about safety? Shouldn’t he be there in case this boy presented a danger?
Shoot. She didn’t need Walt to take care of her.Theydidn’t, she meant.
“I found the culprit,” Joe announced as he entered the camp.
“Why, he’s nothing but a boy.” Ma’s tone conveyed more than surprise. There was also concern. Ma would be fixing him food before Joe could provide any further information.
Joe nodded and said something to the lad in a language Irene didn’t understand. He kept a firm grip on the boy’s arm.
“I’ll fix him something to eat.” Ma hustled around, filling a plate with biscuits, beans, and slices of the roast venison she was cooking.
Joe led the boy to a log and indicated he should sit. As he ate the food Ma served, Joe stood over him. His hand might have been encouraging the boy. Or informing him there was no escaping.
“As you can tell, he’s Native. Some white men—I’m guessing they were like those we met yesterday—captured him. Sounds like they weren’t kind.” Joe’s deep voice grew raspy. “He was with them many days. He waited until they were sleeping after a night of drinking and escaped. Only he didn’t know where he was or how to get back to his people. He’s been living in the woods.”
Deep silence followed Joe’s story, broken only by the sound of the boy eating.
Walt jumped from their wagon and joined the circle. “Do you know where his people are?”
Huh. Irene snorted. Better late than never. She ground her teeth against the persistent voice suggesting he’d hung back to make sure there wasn’t any danger. Fine. She’d give credit where credit was due, even though it hurt her pride.Pride goeth before a fall.Words her pa had said from time to time.I don’t want to fall orfail. She drew in a deep breath and dismissed her bad attitude.
Joe rubbed his jaw. “I don’t recognize any of the names he gave. I could take him to the nearest reservation.”
“Of course. You must do that,” Ma said. “He needs to be reunited with his people.”
“It would mean I’d be gone for several days. I wouldn’t be able to lead you.”
Gabe and Ma looked at each other, silent communication passing between them. Gabe then raised a brow at Walt, who nodded.
“Give us a few instructions, and we’ll manage on our own until you rejoin us.”
Irene had no reservations about proceeding without Joe. They only had to head west. Not that anyone asked her opinion. They never did. The two Miller men huddled at Joe’s side, listening and nodding as he sketched a map in the dust. Shouldn’t they invite Cecil to join them? Or, as the younger brother, was his presence not considered necessary?
Protest burned in her throat. At least being overlooked, in her case, had offered her a freedom she appreciated.
