Page 63 of Wagon Train Promises
“How is everyone?” Joe stood next to Walt.
“I believe everyone is on the mend, but I’m concerned that Marnie is too weak to handle travel.”
“We need to talk.” Joe signaled them to join him.
“I’ll be part of any discussion.” Gabe slipped away from Marnie’s side.
The four men and Louise moved away so they wouldn’t disturb those still sleeping.
“How soon before we can move on?” Joe’s calm tone did not hide the fact he was concerned about the delay.
No more so than the rest of them. Louise included herself. But she had to be honest. “I believe everyone else is ready to travel so long as the pace is slow. Gabe should ride for a few days.” She ignored the collective sigh of relief. “But I fear traveling might be too strenuous for Marnie.” However, staying here carried the risk of others getting sick. She didn’t share that information.
Gabe jerked around to study his sleeping wife. “She would not want us to delay on her account.” He regarded his two sons. “I’d suggest you go ahead and leave us here, then—” He didn’t even get a chance to finish before Walt spoke up.
“We stay together,” he said.
“I agree,” Cecil added.
“Me too.” Irene slipped to Walt’s side. “Ma wouldn’t hear of it either.”
From the shadows came a weak voice. “Gabe, I’ll ride in the wagon.”
“Then it’s settled,” Gabe spoke firmly, but he didn’t manage to disguise the slight tremor in his voice. His footsteps were measured as he returned to Marnie’s side.
Louise left her to his gentle care. The other women were up, and having heard they were to travel today, they helped with camp chores. They moved slower than usual but were well enough to eat a hearty breakfast. Louise’s role of a nurse was no longer needed.
“I thank God,” she said loudly enough for even Hazel to hear, “that everyone is well again.”
“Amen to that.” Cecil squeezed her shoulder. “And thanks to you for taking care of them.”
His touch brought a sting of tears to her eyes, but she blinked them back. It was only because of gratitude tinged with fatigue that she was feeling weepy.
People gathered around the campfire. Gabe escorted Marnie to a stool, a firm grip around her waist.
Bertie sat close enough to press to her side. “Mama, you better?”
“Yes, son. I’m getting better.”
“I glad.” Bertie’s voice carried unshed tears.
As soon as Marnie settled, Gabe signaled to the others. “I have an announcement to make. We missed Sunday because of this sickness, but Marnie and I want to have a service of thanksgiving and gratitude for God’s goodness in healing us all.”
A murmur of agreement rose.
They followed their usual routine of getting the oxen hitched up and having breakfast before they gathered together. Gabe was feeling well enough to play his guitar as they sang. Marnie sat close to him, her face pale.
Hazel wiped away a tear and whispered to Louise. “She’s so weak she isn’t singing with Gabe.”
Louise understood the significance as much as Hazel did. Gabe and Marnie loved to sing together. She squeezed Hazel’s hand and whispered back. “She’s on the mend.”
Cecil rose, Gabe’s Bible in hand. “Pa has granted me the privilege of reading the Scripture today.”
Gabe must’ve allowed it because he wasn’t as strong as he’d thought.
Cecil continued. “We’ve encountered some challenges these past few days between the flooding of the river and the illness that gripped some of us. But God is faithful.” He opened the worn pages. “I’d like to read Psalm 139 as a reminder of God’sconstant care and presence. ‘Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off…Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.’”
To her utter shame, Louise clung to the words he read, finding as much encouragement from hearing his voice as from hearing the verses. Until he read:
