Page 55 of Wagon Train Promises
“Supper isn’t quite ready,” Marnie announced to the gathering. “But there’s a pot of tea.”
“And cookies?” Louise asked, her gaze darting to Cecil and just as quickly, darting away. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”
“But there are.” Marnie indicated a tin full of what looked to be molasses cookies.
“Joe, join us,” Pa called as they gathered around the fire. “They’re going to tell us what they did over there.”
The scout hesitated and then nodded. “I’d like to hear.”
Irene handed everyone a cup. Pa carried the tea around, filling each. Marnie followed with the cookies.
It would have been a perfect way to celebrate crossing the river except Louise sat beside Angela on the far side of the camp.
The tea swirled as Cecil tipped his cup back and forth. Louise was Hazel’s friend. But the rest of the Woods family were also friends. Louise could choose to be with any of them. Marnie, the mother. Or Irene, Cecil’s new sister-in-law. Or Ruby or Angela. Or their brother, Bertie. The big, gentle man with the mind of a child. And a menagerie of pets.
Yes, lots of ways for Louise to avoid him.
But Cecil hadn’t learned how to make his grandmother smile without also learning how to convince others to see the bright side of a situation. It might not be easy, but he’d find a way to make Louise believe his kiss had been a good thing. And a future with him would be a great thing.
Was it about her nursing?
He pushed the nagging thought aside. One thing he’d heard often from both his grandparents was to trust God to make a way.
Louise pressed close to Angela,who whispered, “I’m so glad you’re back. I worried…”
“We were perfectly safe once the water stopped rising.” Louise nibbled at the cookie. Ginger-flavored molasses. Soft and chewy. Why weren’t they more enjoyable? When did she start to believe that crisp, mild-flavored cookies were better?
When Cecil told her about learning to make them under his grandmother’s tutelage.
When she’d made them in the Dutch oven and shared them along with tea.
She took a bigger bite of the dark-brown cookie. Molasses cookies suited her just fine. So fine, she wouldn’t look anywherebut at the cookie. And the tea. And the flames that danced across Cecil’s face and filled his eyes.
Her eyes were too wide. They stung from not blinking. No, from the smoke that drifted in her direction.
“Tell us everything.” Gabe’s voice startled her into sucking in a deep breath. Gave her the strength to lower her attention to her cup.
Cecil relayed how they’d spent their days. How the water had risen so quickly. How he’d brought in rabbits to augment their food supply. He laughed as he told how Louise had chased a coyote away from their food.
Louise’s cheeks stung as all eyes turned to her.
“She’s the bravest woman I know.” Hazel’s affirmation sent guilt into her heart. She didn’t deserve Hazel’s praise. “She’ll be a great nurse in the West. She took care of me when I didn’t feel well.”
A nurse didn’t let wayward feelings have control. Louise lifted her head, and smiled at Hazel. “Thank you,” she murmured. “But we worked together.”
“Indeed, we did,” Cecil told about gathering wood. “Louise took quite a fall but insists she’s not hurt.”
Marnie leaned closer. “Is that how you got the bruises on your face?”
“It was nothing.” At least they’d faded a degree. “Cecil got this close to encountering a skunk.” She showed her hands a couple of feet apart. “It was a mama with four babies.”
“Baby skunks?” Bertie’s eyes lit up. “They be a good pet.” Alice, his goat, sat behind him with Limpy, the brown, three-legged dog at his side. The two cats curled in his lap.
Louise held her tongue, but it seemed Bertie had enough pets.
“I don’t think you want skunks for pets.” Marnie’s voice hinted at her amusement.
Louise’s disobedient eyes lifted Cecil’s direction. His attention should have been on Marnie. Or Bertie. Or anyone. But his bottomless gaze crashed with hers, sending a jolt throughout her body. Her hand jerked. If her cup hadn’t been empty, she would have splashed tea over herself.
