Page 6 of Wagon Train Promises
Someone touched his shoulder.
“We’re done. And thank you.”
He lowered the blanket, sucked in air, and met Louise’s smile.
“You’re welcome.” He avoided looking directly at Hazel. “It looks like we’ll be here for the night. Might as well get as comfortable as possible.” He pulled his legs closer to his body. “The two of you might fit between the boxes and crates.” They could at least lie down.
“What about you?” Louise asked.
“I’m fine here.” He rearranged the boxes so he could rest his head on one. He’d have to be careful not to lean against the canvas and cause it to wick. A protest flared in Louise’s eyes. He tipped his head toward Hazel and lifted his eyebrows. Would she understand his silent message that the woman needed to rest properly?
She eyed Hazel, then nodded. “I’ll fix us a spot.” She moved boxes, stacking things another row higher until there was enough room for a body to stretch out. “Do you mind?” Her gaze sought an answer as she jabbed her finger toward the box he sat on. “We need more blankets.”
Holding Petey as steady as he could, Cecil pushed to his feet and leaned to the side so Louise could gather quilts and other bedding.
A black, gray, and dark-green quilt went on the floor. She put another quilt to the side.
“Come on, Hazel. Let’s get as comfortable as possible.” Catching her friend’s hand, she urged her to her feet.
“I’ll take Petey.”
Cecil shifted the child to his mother’s arms, then settled back as far into the corner as possible, his feet jammed between a crate and a trunk. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but he’d make do.
The two women lay on their sides, Petey tucked in by his mother.
Cecil held back a comment that they were so cramped it looked like they’d have to take turns breathing.
“Good night,” Louise murmured.
Was it for him? Or Hazel? Or both?
“Good night,” he whispered into the growing darkness that provided a degree of privacy. The rain offered nature’s lullaby.
Soon, deep breathing suggested at least one of them had fallen asleep.
He let his muscles relax. Not that he’d be able to sleep in this position.
But faint gray light illuminated the wagon when the roar of water jerked him awake. One breath brought awareness of where he was and why he sat cramped up. A second made him sit up as straight as was possible and listen. Was it still raining hard enough to make that sound? He eased his feet to the side, hoping to relieve the cramping in his legs. When he bumped into something that moved, he stopped.
The sound of water demanded his attention. It wasn’t rain slicing against the canvas. It was?—
He pushed to his feet, shoving aside the legs in the middle, careful not to step on the ladies and baby, and made his way to the front of the wagon. Dawn peeked through the keyhole opening. With deft, hurried fingers, he released the drawstring and peered out.
Rain no longer fell. The roar came from the river. Pale light revealed it had overflowed its banks and flooded the gully before them. The water was deep and wide and ferocious.
They were in no danger unless it rose a great deal more. But there’d be no crossing the river to join the others until the waters receded.
He was stranded here with two women and a child.
Louise wokewhen something touched her feet. She drew in a breath. Cecil was moving forward. Watery light spilled through the opening at the front. She eased to her feet, careful not to disturb Hazel, who moaned much of the night, perhaps because of their crowded quarters.
Slipping forward, Louise peered out past Cecil and gasped. Her stomach knotted.
“The river’s in flood.” The whispered words were sharp. “We’re stranded here.”
“Yes, we are.” His whisper was calming as if the thought held no worries for him.
“Are we safe?” What if the water rose more? Where would they go? Should they abandon the wagon?
