Page 69 of Wagon Train Promises
She longed for words of comfort spoken into her fractured heart…to look at Cecil and find strength in his steady gaze. To be held in strong, protective arms.
None of that was possible with Dobie squeezed between them.
Nor should she even be thinking of such things.
Except the horrific scene was burned into her mind.
She allowed herself the comfort of their touch until they were almost back, and then she sat up straight.
“There’s no need to tell everyone what we saw,” Cecil murmured. “I’ll get Joe and Walt to help me.”
At the camp, she and Dobie stood by the dead coals as Cecil signaled to his brother and the scout. They moved away to talk. Gabe joined them to hear Cecil’s report but remained behind as the others got shovels and rode back.
The tremble of Ruby’s lips and the way Angela pressed her fingers to her mouth let Louise know that they understood what was going on.
“Everyone, this is Dobie. He’ll be traveling with us now. I’m taking care of him.” She squeezed the boy’s shoulder. He was so thin. A glance around the shack had made her wonder if his parents had been slowly starving. She’d seen no sign of provisions of any sort.
She introduced the ladies as aunts. Gabe was with the oxen, so she didn’t need to introduce him.
“And Uncle Bertie. He has lots of pets.”
Bertie held out a cat. “You can pet Smoky.”
The poor child trembled and pressed to her side.
Hazel looked at him, sorrow and sympathy filling her face. “He’s no doubt hungry. I’ve got beans and bacon.” She filled a plate and added a biscuit.
Dobie drew back at her approach. But the offer of food was too much, and a thin arm snaked out and took the plate. The boy withdrew and sat cross-legged on the ground, his back against Louise’s legs.
She would have liked a moment to explain to the others what she had promised the dying woman, but it would have to wait until later.
Hazel handed Louise a cup of coffee, and she drank it standing up with Dobie at her legs.
The women began to put away things in preparation for leaving. Then they waited for Cecil and the others to return.
Louise edged away enough she could sit beside Dobie, who pressed to her side. Poor little guy. His parents are gone. Surrounded by strangers and then being forced to move away from what had been his home.
She wrapped an arm around him. Her heart flooded with unexpected love. Silently, she promised him she would do the best for him, sharing with him whatever home she had.
The men returned, faces drawn. The oxen plodding across the grass and the rattle of harnesses offered the only sound as they hitched up the animals and prepared to leave.
When she indicated that Dobie should come in the wagon with her and Gabe, he backed away, shaking his head hard. Cecil prepared to travel beside the oxen.
“Dobie, do you want to ride with me?”
The boy sidled over to Cecil who pulled him up behind him. Dobie leaned his cheek to Cecil’s back and drew in a long breath.
Cecil reached back and pressed his hand to Dobie’s thin shoulders. “You’re safe with me, little man. I promise you that.”
Louise curled her thumb over her index finger. Cecil’s words and his promise echoed her own.
But Louise was the one who gave her word to the boy’s mother, and she didn’t intend to let another take her place. Dobie belonged with her. Though they would all travel together until they reached the fort.
And then what? By then, this group of people would be Dobie’s family. She flexed her curled fingers. Maybe she’d stay around the fort until the boy got used to seeing their fellow travelers go their various ways.
At this moment, she couldn’t deal with the idea of loss and saying goodbye and not seeing the others. “‘Take therefore nothought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”
Out of habit, she murmured the words aloud, bringing Gabe’s attention to her.
