Page 65 of Wagon Train Promises
He rode beside Joe to the crest of the second hill and shaded his eyes. In the distance, Cecil made out two structures. A small barn and an even smaller second building. “Settlers?”
Joe studied the place several minutes longer. “Settlers.” His voice carried a hard note. “Not good place to live. Too dry. Bad water. Bad wind.”
“Maybe they’ll have the good sense to move on.”
Joe grunted. “White man not have good sense.”
Cecil laughed. “You forgetting you’re half white?”
“Not forgetting. Some white men different.” He reined around and headed back to camp.
The meal was ready when they returned. Again, Louise kept busy.
It was understandable that she was concerned about Marnie, but hovering over her made it impossible for Cecil to get a chance to talk to her alone.
There was always tomorrow. He’d somehow find a way.
The next morning, he saw his chance when she headed to the stream for water. He followed and waited until she’d filled the buckets.
“I’ll carry them back.” He took them from her.
She released them and straightened. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you.”
“Cecil, there isn’t anything more to be said.”
“But I think there is. Please hear me out.”
“Cecil.” Her glance went past his right ear.
“Please.”
“Cecil, look.”
“There’s something behind me, isn’t there?”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment, her gaze never shifting.
He turned slowly to see?—
A boy? A very young boy? Where did he come from?
“He must be from that settler’s place Joe and I saw. But it’s a fair distance away. What is he doing here?”
“Let’s ask. Hello, how can we help you?”
The boy rocked back and forth on his feet. Matted brown hair hung in his eyes. And a good wash wouldn’t have gone amiss.Brown eyes regarded Cecil with blatant fear. Less fear when he looked at Louise.
“Mama sick. You help.” The words were faint, almost sucked away by the grass-bending wind.
“Of course, I’ll help. But first, what’s your name?” Louise edged past Cecil, whispering out of the side of her mouth. “Let me find out what’s going on.”
Cecil waited. Their visitor was just a boy posing no danger to Louise, but Cecil studied every shadow and squinted at every movement of grass.
“What’s your name?” Louise repeated.
“Dobie.”
