Page 26 of Wagon Train Dreams
But there was nothing but more flat, dry land.
Were they to be burned to a crisp on this desolate prairie?
Chapter Seven
Joe rode ahead, hoping, searching.God of all creation, we need rescue. Water. Some kind of water.
The sky grew dark, but the glow of the sun in the west made it clear there were no clouds. No promise of rain.
He’d scouted this land and hadn’t discovered any water source. Not a river. Not a creek. Not a muddy, mosquito-infested slough. “God, help us.” The wind snatched away the words.
Reining around, he rode back to the wagons. The flames raced closer, faster than a galloping horse. Oxen stood no chance of outrunning them.
Unless God did something.
Like He’d done for the three Hebrew children in the fiery furnace. Hadn’t Jesus appeared and kept the flames from touching them?
God, You can do it again.
He faced the fire. Orange and yellow flames licked at the grass. Sparks flew upward. Soon they’d be landing on the canvas of the wagons. Did they have enough water to fight the flames? If they stopped, could they keep it at bay and let it burn around them? A shudder rattled his teeth. If they stopped and the fire couldn’t be halted or diverted, they’d all be roasted.
He had to find a different answer.
Again, he raced to the lead wagon. Visibility grew limited as the smoke thickened and the sun sank below the horizon. Yet he scanned every direction for escape. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. He released an agonized groan.
If they were to die, he’d do so holding Hazel in his arms.
The lead wagon thundered past. The second one roared his way.
He peered into the growing darkness for the third wagon. Held his breath waiting and?—
A screech came from the lead wagon, followed in seconds by a crash.
And then Marnie screamed. Gabe yelled, “Hold on.”
Another crash.
Joe hesitated. Should he check on what happened to the first two wagons or make sure Hazel’s still came? The shape came into sight. He sank into his saddle. She was coming. Now to find out about the other wagons. He rode back to them. Stopped and squinted. Where were they? He edged forward, every muscle tensed, trying to discover?—
He jerked on the reins. The ground yawned before him.
The wagons had gone over the edge.
Had anyone survived the fall?
Hazel. He had to stop her wagon. Already, it raced toward him at breakneck speed.
“Stop! Stop!” He rode toward the oxen, hoping and praying he could turn them.
Cecil noticed him. Would the man realize Joe’s intent?
The oxen veered. “Whoa! Whoa!”
“Joe, what’s going on?” Cecil’s horse pranced and whinnied as the flames raced closer, roaring a duet with the wild wind.
“A draw or coulee or something. The other wagons have gone over the edge. Follow them, but try and go slowly.”
“Water?”
