Page 58 of Wagon Train Hope
He didn’t let her say anything more. “I still feel the need to protect you, but not because I believe you need it. I—” His voice cracked at the words he was about to say. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Or the others.” He added the last lamely because he hadn’t been thinking of them.
She studied the grass at her feet for the space of a heartbeat, then brought her attention up to his. Truth hovered between them. Too fragile to give it words. Yet too deep to leave it buried.
“I got you something.” He reached inside his shirt and pulled out the journal he’d seen her admiring. He didn’t release it as she folded her fingers over the leather cover. Instead, he enclosed her hand with his and waited until she lifted her eyes to him. “I hope you see it as a token of my affection for you.”
Blue flames flared in her eyes, warming him clear through and filling his heart with hope.
“I–I—” She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I will cherish it always.”
His heart thudded faster at the way she looked at him. Slowly, she leaned forward and offered her lips to him. His heart kicked into a gallop as he met her halfway, claiming herkiss. The journal clutched in both of their hands was crushed between them.
The lingering kiss ended, and she rested her forehead on his chest.
He’d never felt this way before. Were the unfamiliar feelings to be trusted?
Or welcomed?
14
Irene carried the journal to the wagon she shared with her sisters, but rather than put it in her travel bag, she pressed it to her heart. A gift from the man who had once been so critical of her. And kisses from him. Kisses that melted away ice around her heart that she hadn’t been aware of.
She lifted the journal to her nose, the leather scent reminiscent of the man himself, strong, comforting. He’d said it was a token of his affection.
She loved him.
She blinked as the words blasted through her thoughts. The acknowledgment made her laugh quietly so as not to alert Bertie or Walt, though the latter had gone to speak to Joe and check on the animals.
Her lips lingered on the cover before she stowed it in her bag. She’d take it out later and write in it. Maybe she’d describe the journey. Record the Bible verses they’d shared. But would she note the fact they’d kissed? What if someone read what she wrote? Her cheeks grew hot at the idea ofanyone discovering the fact. It was a secret she’d keep to herself.
The others returned from their trip to town, carrying supplies to replenish what they had. By late morning, they’d prepared the meal, rejoicing in the fresh bounty. Ma had managed to find rhubarb. When Joe moved to bring the oxen in, Gabe held up his hand to stop him. “Marnie and I have decided to spend the rest of the day here. It will give us a chance to prepare food for the following days.”
No one protested. Food preparation was important enough to allow for short delays.
That afternoon, Irene helped the others bake rhubarb pies, plus a good supply of biscuits and bread. It had been a long time since they’d enjoyed fresh bread. The baking sweetened the air.
She glanced up several times—very well, many times—looking for Walt. Sometimes, she didn’t see him at least for a few minutes. Then she’d spot him checking the oxen’s hooves or applying grease to the wagon wheels. Or she’d watch him tidying the Millers’ wagon. Or pausing to play with Petey. No matter where he was or what he was doing, her eyes found him as if connected by a silken thread. Even across the distance, their gazes would crash with enough force to shake her clear through.
When she resumed her task, a smile lingered on her lips, a joy in her heart.
He chose to sit beside her when they gathered for the evening meal. When the meal was cleaned up, Gabe brought out his guitar, and they joined him in singing. It was her favorite time of the day…except she wished she and Walt could be alone.
“Would you care to go for a walk?” he murmured as Gabe put away his guitar.
She was immediately on her feet, ignoring Ruby’s knowing chuckle.
“It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?” Was her voice too eager? But she couldn’t help it. Having discovered and admitted her feelings for him, she was anxious for him to confess the same for her.
They wandered through the trees, now dark with shadows, providing her with the perfect excuse to press to his side. They broke through the foliage to a grassy hill and climbed to the top. Before them, groves of trees and silvery flashes of water dotted the rolling landscape.
Neither of them spoke as they sat facing west. Pink rimmed the horizon. A trio of birds flew across the gray sky.
“Thank you again for the journal.” If he’d bought it to signify his feelings for her, then now would be the perfect time for him to admit it.
“I’m glad it pleased you.” A coyote sang in the distance. Several answered. “I always think that’s a lonesome sound.”
Pretending a fear she did not feel, she shivered and shifted closer to him.
He circled his arm around her shoulders, bringing a welcome warmth to more than her body. Her very insides were blessed by his touch.
