Page 40 of Wagon Train Promises
His weight pressed her arms to the ground. Eyes as black as midnight held hers, and then he gasped and rolled off. “I’m sorry.”
“My fault.” She managed a fair-to-middling tone when her whole insides quaked. From landing hard, of course. If she kept her eyes closed and lay motionless, maybe this whole situation would vanish. Maybe she could bring her fickle feelings into submission. Because what she felt, what stirred her heart into a crazy dance couldnotbe wanting this man. She wouldn’t allow that. Any more than she’d allow wishing she could open her heart—her life—to him. It was as foolish as wishing she was adifferent person. Someone younger. More attractive. More fun! For goodness’ sake, when had she ever wanted to be thought of as fun? She knew what she was. A serious-minded spinster.
Her teeth hurt from how hard she clenched them. Her chest protested sharply as she forced air in and out. In and out. In and out. In?—
How long was it going to take for her to feel normal?
Rustling near her head made her jerk her eyes open and look in that direction. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “Is it the skunk?”
Cecil raised himself on his elbows and craned around. “I don’t see anything.”
The rustling came again.
“Louise, you have to see this.”
Cautiously, she sat up and faced the sound.
The skunk ambled away, four kits marching in her wake.
She looked to Cecil, and they both laughed softly, careful not to draw the attention of the parade of black-and-white animals.
The look went on and on, rife with possibility.
The truth of what she meant jerked her to her feet. No. There were no possibilities between her and Cecil. She’d seen how he and Hazel fit together and wasn’t about to get in the way of that. Besides, she was older than he. Only by a few years but vastly by responsibility and experience. Not only that, she meant to be a wilderness nurse. Taking healing and comfort to those beyond the fort.
The skunk was no longer a threat, so she scrambled to her feet to hurry back to where she’d lost her wood.
“Louise, slow down before you fall again. Twice in one day is enough. We don’t want a third time.”
But she couldn’t slow her pace. Just as she couldn’t stop regrets from rushing up her throat. An old maid is what she was and what she meant to remain.
Her arms full of the gathered wood, she headed back to camp, Cecil on her heels carrying more wood.
“Louise, I’m sorry I fell on you. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be angry.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” From now on, she’d make sure she wasn’t interfering with the romance between Cecil and Hazel. Petey needed a father. Hazel needed a husband.
Louise didn’t.
They reached camp.
Her armload of logs crashed to the ground. His followed. She tossed three pieces of wood on the fire.
“I’m going to bake.” Somehow, she’d figure out a way to make cookies. And if it took the rest of the day and several others, all the better.
Her friend sat nearby. “Hazel, you should take Petey for a walk. Get him some exercise so he sleeps tonight.”
Petey cocked his head at his name, his blue eyes big. “Walk?” He trotted toward the trail, his short legs churning.
“Wait for Mama.” Hazel dashed after him.
Louise waited for Cecil to follow. Instead, he stared at the flames. She cleared her throat.
His head jerked up.
