Page 2 of Wagon Train Promises
“Down!” The little guy’s tone threatened tears.
Cecil dropped to a crate. “I’ll take him.” He swooped the little one from Louise’s arms and perched Petey on his knees. “Petey, how would you like to play a game?”
“Play.” His eager nod sent a spray of blond hair around his face.
Louise shifted her feet, forcing Cecil to move his knees out of her way.
Petey leaned forward. “Play.”
Cecil laughed at the boy’s demanding tone. “Here we go.” He took the little hands in his and swung the short arms in time to the words.
“Tick, tock, tick, tock, listen to the little clock.
“Tick, tock, tick, tock,
“Now it's striking one o'clock,
“One.”
At “one,” he lifted Petey’s hands over his head. The rumble of the little guy’s laughter tickled Cecil’s insides.
Past Petey’s head, Cecil’s gaze connected with Louise’s. Brown eyes that revealed nothing. And sent a shiver down his spine. Why did she regard him so coldly? He’d done nothing since they left Bruffin, Manitoba, but be helpful, doing what he could to keep everyone’s spirits up. Not that there was a lot of complaining, but there had been plenty of challenges. From alkali flats to unwelcome visitors. One of the latter led to a marriage between his brother, Walt, and Irene, one of the Woods girls. A smile filled his insides at their happiness.
“Play!” Petey said.
Cecil left off looking at Louise and wondering about her attitude toward him and turned his attention back to the little boy. He continued the ticktock game, counting up to five o’clock. Each time he lifted the little arms up in accordance with the number. Five times for five o’clock. Each time bringing giggles from the boy.
Dark streaks ran down the canvas bonnet as the rain pounded down. They would be hard-pressed to stay dry if this continued.
“Tick, tock, tick, tock, listen to the little clock.
“Tick, tock, tick, tock, now it's time for us to STOP!”
Shifting Petey to one side, he studied the situation. Louise wore her customary bland expression, giving away nothing. Brown eyes, brown hair pinned back into a bun that had come undone in her haste to get inside. She wore a simple gray dress and a white apron.
Come to think of it, had he seen her wear anything different? Not that he’d noticed.
Hazel was as fair as moonlight. Eyes as blue as her son’s.
“I’m cold.” Hazel shivered.
The pounding rain brought with it lowered temperatures.
“We need our blankets.”
Why did Louise look at him as if he held the blankets prisoner?
“They’re in that crate.” She tipped her head toward the box he sat on.
“You need me to move? Just say so.” He jerked to his feet and eased as far away as he could.
“Thanks.” She tossed the word over her shoulder as she lifted the lid and unearthed four gray blankets like army issue. They’d be itchy as all get-out but warm. “Here you go.” She wrapped a blanket around Hazel’s shoulders, her hands gentle like?—
He blinked. Like Gramma’s. He blinked again. Swallowed back the lump that caught in his chest.
Louise handed him two blankets. “One for you. One for Petey. He needs to be kept warm.” Did her steady gaze mean she thought he wouldn’t know what to do?
He waited for her to close the lid on the box and sit back, a blanket around her shoulders, before he returned to the seat. “Here ya go.” He draped the coarse material around Petey.
