Page 54 of Wagon Train Promises
Disturbed by the noise, Petey started to cry.
Joe dropped the strap he held and hurried to the front of the wagon. “Hello, Little Warrior.”
Petey blinked and swallowed back his cry. “’Lo.”
The pair grinned at each other.
“Come to Mama.” Hazel’s voice whispered from the back of the wagon.
Petey waved at Joe and then trotted to his mother.
While Cecil and Joe finished with the oxen, Louise and Hazel packed up the tent and the cooking things.
Those on the other side of the river gathered to watch as the wagon rattled down the slope to where Joe indicated they would cross. Cecil led the horses. Joe drove the wagon. Hazel carried Petey, and Louise walked at her side. All nice and orderly.
Except for the stampede of feelings Cecil couldn’t corral. Things he didn’t want to admit to. Some were almost shameful. Regret that Joe had shown up when he did. Wishing that he could spend more time with Louise. Deepest and hardest of all was the hollow ache inside that had no name but came from the way she avoided him.
“Ladies,” Joe called. “Best you ride, or you’ll end up swimming.”
Both of them scrambled aboard, sitting so they could watch as the wagon rolled forward. Cecil rode beside the oxen to urge them onward as the water rose to their noses. Water as cold as winter. It filled his boots. Splashed on his face. He swiped it away so he could see clearly.
“Pull. Pull.” He patted the near ox on the rump. “That’s it. Keep pulling.” He spared a glance over his shoulder to check on the wagon.
The water lapped about the wheels and pushed at the bottom of the wagon bed. The two women peered out from behind Joe. Big blue eyes and wide dark eyes. Petey would be safely held in his mama’s arms. Cecil could picture the ladies holding each other’s hands.
Louise would be murmuring a prayer.
He added his silent prayer to hers.Lord, keep this wagon safe. Keep the occupants safe.
The current was strong. It pushed against him. His horse struggled to fight it. The rushing water had the power to tip the wagon. And worse, push it downstream.
Still praying, he glanced over his shoulder. The wagon tipped from the force of the water.
Joe hollered at the animals. Cecil urged them onward.
Were they halfway? Would they make it? His prayer was reduced to a simpleGod, help us.
His horse lurched forward, pulling hard. How much farther? Another glance over his shoulder. The wagon was still coming. And then his attention returned to the oxen. They must keep moving. Keep pulling. It was the only way they’d make it across. If they floundered, the current would take the wagon.
“Hiyi!” he hollered.
The water grew less deep. The oxen snorted.
One more challenge—pulling the wagon up the slope to where the others waited.
The big animals leaned into the harness. Their muscles bulged, and then they were on dry ground, next to Pa’s wagon.
A cheer rose from those watching. But a louder one came from Cecil and the ladies in the wagon. Cecil’s was loud enough to make Chief lift his head. Though he was likely as glad to be back on solid ground as the people were.
Cecil dismounted and emptied his boots.
Marnie and the other ladies gathered around Hazel and Louise, hugging them and telling them how much they’d missed them.
Pa and Walt joined Cecil, waiting for him to take care of his boots before they helped him park the wagon.
“Finally, all three wagons back together.” Pa slapped Cecil’s shoulder before he helped unyoke the oxen and take them to join the others. “I’m glad you were with the ladies and Petey. I knew they were all right with you there.”
“Thanks, Pa.” Not often he got such generous praise.
