Page 46 of Wagon Train Hope
That agreement settled into Irene’s heart. “I’m glad for you,” she said after some time.
“Thanks. I know it isn’t much, but still, it feels good.”
“It’s a lot,” she protested. “Why—” She waved as if to scoop up time and hold it in her palm. “Memories are precious gifts.” Would he think she was being pretentious?
“I like that.”
With warmth and contentment soothing her heart, she rode on in silence, always watchful for any dangers on the trail, and yet her thoughts were inward. Aware of the power and healing of love.
He shifted in the saddle, his gaze on her. At first, she ignored it, afraid all the feelings flooding her insides—love and peace and joy—would leak out through her eyes. But then, why would she hide them from him? He was, in part, responsible for the changes occurring in her heart.
She pulled to a halt.
He did the same, and they faced each other from the distance of their horses. He turned enough that the toes of their boots touched.
Not a word came to her mouth. Or her mind. There was only the draw of his gaze and the sweet promise of his smile.
“God is love,” he murmured. “He’s spread His love in our lives.”
She nodded, still unable to find a word.
His smile widened, and then he sighed. “I don’t think love is a reason to forget what we’re supposed to be doing.” His gaze swept the land before him. “Like Joe said, today should be easy travel.”
Just like that, whatever Irene had thought special jerked to a halt. Not that she believed there was anything more to their discussion than remembering the past.
Or perhaps she had.
Pushing aside disappointment—or whatever she chose to call it—she rode at his side without uttering a word.
They reached a meadow alongside the river and stopped for the noon meal.
Walt took his food standing up, a thoughtful look on his face. “Seeing as the grass is so abundant here, I suggest westart cutting it for tomorrow.” They’d all heard about the barren valley they would cross. “I’ll ride on ahead to look things over.” He trotted off without so much as glancing at Irene, leaving her staring after him. Wishing…wanting…
Enough. There was work to get done. As soon as they finished the meal, they began to gather in hay. Cecil and Gabe cut wide swaths with their scythes. Bertie amused Petey while the rest of them gathered the cut grass and stacked it on the tarpaulins Ma and Hazel put out.
The tarps full; they hung them from the backs of the wagons.
Still, Walt had not returned.
Irene shaded her eyes and stared into the distance as did several others.
“No sign of him,” Gabe said. “We might as well rest while we wait.” He stretched out in the shade of the wagon.
Ma lounged beside him.
Irene glanced around. Everyone was content to wait for him. But what if he’d ridden into one of those alkali places and become trapped? Wasn’t anyone thinking they should make sure he didn’t need help?
“I’m going to see where he is.” She hurried to her horse and rode away at a fast trot.
Walt madehis way up the slope to rejoin the wagons. Joe had said the valley was barren, but that didn’t begin to describe the land that offered no fresh water and grew nothing but sharp-bladed grass that would stick in the oxen’s throats. White patches of ground warned where the alkali areas were, which should make it easy to avoid them. Or so he thought.
How wrong he’d been. Socks had stepped on ground thatlooked fine, but his front legs sank several inches. The horse snorted and pulled back. Since not all the dangerous areas were so easy to detect, Walt crisscrossed the land several times, marking out places where the ground was solid and not offering false promise.
It was going to be a tough crossing. Joe said to plan for two days—ifnothing went amiss.
Walt’s fingers coiled into knuckle-popping fists as he considered the dire possibilities. They must move carefully. Would Irene heed his warnings?
Somehow, he’d make sure she did.
