Page 40 of Wagon Train Hope
“Not that I’m aware of. I do know he was a gentle, kind man. Perhaps because he lived that verse.” Was he as forgiving and tenderhearted as Grandpa had been?
Guilt suggested otherwise. Did he judge people? Like Irene? Did he want her to follow his wishes? Did he have that right?
No, he did not. Did anyone?
He thought not. All that mattered to him was she not do anything that put her or the others in danger.
Irene closed the book, her palms pressed to the cover. “I guess I don’t always live that verse.” Her head bowed, shewhispered, “I need to practice forgiving much more than I do.”
Hearing her pain, he leaned forward, caught her chin with his finger, and tipped her head up, waiting until her gaze met his. “Forgiveness and kindness are good traits to practice. For me, too.”
Something sweet and powerful welled up in his chest as she nodded. He’d never before known such a strong bond with anyone. Not even Grandfather. The older man was above him while Irene was on the same plane and sharing a similar journey.
She handed him the Bible. “Read to me.”
His throat threatened to close off at the rush of pleasure that came from her request and the prospect of sharing something this personal. He lounged on one elbow while she lay on her back, her hands folded at her waist, her face tipped toward him as she waited.
With no idea where to start and no plan, he flipped pages until he stopped at the Gospel According to St. John and began to read. “‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.’” The words flowed with a calming melody.
He read words that fed his soul, pleased to share the moment with Irene. His voice cracked with dryness. He stopped, took a deep breath, and closed the book.
She shifted to her side. “That was good.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
Blue eyes reflected the sky, full of sunny warmth. Their gazes held. Something inside him opened and welcomed?—
Well, he couldn’t say what he meant. But hadn’t they shared a special connection?
She plucked the yellow flower he’d been avoiding. “Sometimes I forget that God made this wonderful world for us to enjoy. I forget that He is our beginning and ourend. That nothing comes into our lives without His allowing it.”
He nodded. “I believe things have hurt you in the past. I hope you can see God’s hand in them and know He has always loved you.”
She twirled the flower between her fingers. “I do know that. I know my family loves me too, even though—” She cast the flower aside and brushed off her hands, seemingly brushing off more than the debris. “It’s in the past. I don’t want it to be part of my present or my future.”
He cupped his hand to the side of her head. “The future is full of promise and possibility.”
“Indeed.” She sprang to her feet. “Speaking of the future, let’s ride ahead and see where we’ll be going tomorrow.”
They returned to their horses and rode to the west.
“It looks like the trail will be easy,” she said.
“For tomorrow. And then the alkali flats. But we’ll take it one step at a time.” He meant more than the travel. But would she hear what he meant? Something had shifted in their relationship this afternoon. Was she aware of it? And if so, did she welcome it? Or would she run from it?
10
One step at a time.To Irene, it sounded like a promise. And not one that referred to their travels. She wasn’t ready to think they could be best of friends or anything like that, but she was willing to take one step at a time and see how things developed.
They rode side by side at a leisurely pace. The ground sloped toward the west. Occasional rocks poked through the ground but nothing like what they’d encountered the last couple of days. Green grass grew in abundance.
“We won’t have any trouble cutting hay to take across the valley,” she said. The sun sank down in the sky, making her realize how long they’d been gone. “I just remembered something.”
Walt looked at her with surprise. “What?”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. We’ll have a late start.”
“That’s right. I’m sure we aren’t the only ones who realize that.”
