Page 68 of Wagon Train Promises
Cecil clenched his jaw. The woman was beyond help. Her eyes had that look to them. Did Louise see it as well?
“Dobie?”
Louise bent close to hear the woman’s weak voice. “He’s here. You have a brave boy.”
A skeletal hand reached for Louise. “Promise me you’ll take care of him.”
“I promise.” Louise stroked the woman’s forehead, the paper-thin skin crackling under her touch.
Weak, colorless eyes sought Cecil and held his gaze for a moment.
He nodded.
Before he could add his promise to take care of Dobie, her eyes closed, and a breath shuddered into her chest.
Louise cradled the woman’s hand. The contrast between hers and the sick woman’s sent cold into the pit of Cecil’s stomach.
“What’s his full name? Do you have any relatives?” Louise asked, a hint of urgency in her voice.
“Book. On shelf.” A weak jab toward the narrow shelf fixed to the wall by the table. “Give him family and love. Teach him about God. Make sure he knows I love him.”
“I will.”
A shudder shook the frail body. Cecil held his breath, watching for the covers to lift.
They didn’t.
“She’s gone,” Louise whispered. She looked over her shoulder for Dobie.
The boy pressed into the far corner, eyes big as wagon wheels, dark as midnight.
Moving slowly, Louise went to the boy and knelt before him. “Your mama is gone.”
“To heaven. Like Papa?” He darted a glance at the shrouded body.
“Yes. She asked me to take care of you.”
He studied Louise so long and hard Cecil wondered if the boy had blanked his mind.
“Mama said she pray for me to get new mama and papa.” Dobie’s gaze found Cecil. “I not want new mama and papa.” A silent sob rattled the boy.
Louise scooped him up and hurried from the house, calling over her shoulder, “Bring the book.”
By the time Cecil found the book and followed, the pair was sitting a distance away from the buildings and the smell, Dobie cradled in Louise’s arms, his shoulders rising and falling in quiet sobs.
Louise letsilent tears drip from her chin. This poor boy had witnessed things no child nor adult should endure. The only comfort she could offer was her arms. And her prayers. “God, thank You that Dobie found us. That You brought us to him.”
Cecil led his horse toward them. “I’ll take you back to camp, then return to?—”
She nodded. He didn’t need to finish. They both knew what had to be done.
“Brought the book.” He held it up. A black notebook.
“Could you put it in my bag, please?” She’d look at it later. Right now, there was a child to take care of.
They rode back to camp the same way they’d ridden away, but everything had changed. An orphaned boy who would need lots of care. And her heart feeling ripped loose. She’d seen things while nursing, but nothing that compared to this. God willing, she’d never again see such a scene.
Needing comfort and allowing herself this forbidden gesture, she leaned over Dobie and pressed her forehead to Cecil’s back. Her fingers fisted into his shirt fabric, where she clung to his waist. One hand came back and wrapped around her fingers. A shiver crossed his shoulders.
