Page 32 of Wagon Train Dreams
She hadn’t missed the deepening of his voice and the tightness around his eyes. Something more had hurt him. Would he tell her if she pressed?
Or was the pain too deep, too profound to give it words?
Chapter Eight
Joe didn’t care to stir any more memories. Life couldn’t be all good. He knew that as well as anyone. But today was for sunshine and joy spent with Hazel at his side. He didn’t mean to waste a moment of it. Enough had been said for her to understand dreams were only make-believe.
He shouldered his way through the tangle of bushes, holding them aside for her to pass through. Within minutes, they emerged into the open. Fifteen feet ahead of them, the ground rose to the sky. Only here, the walls were different. Silvery-black cliffs were as straight as a soldier. In other places, rocks formed steps to the top.
“Oh my,” she whispered. “I expected there’d be gravel and poor soil. This is beautiful. Can we climb up and see what’s at the top?”
He glanced at her shoes, her small hands?—
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m tougher than you think.”
“MaybeI’mnot as tough as you think.” Doubt dragged the words out. It was a steep climb. He’d have to carry Little Warrior because he didn’t intend to let her do it. Not only did he have to keep Petey safe, he’d need to guide Hazel every step of the way. “It’s not worth the risk. Hazel?—”
She ignored him and, with a teasing smile, started the climb. “Come on.”
What choice did she leave him?
Tucking Petey tight to one side, he followed, gripping the rocks with his moccasined feet. He had no trouble keeping up with Hazel, but what if she slipped?
He stuck as close to her back as possible. If she started to fall, he would stop her.
“Almost there.” Her voice rang with victory.
She hitched herself over the edge and turned to wait for him.
Petey reached for his ma, putting Joe off-balance.
“Joe!” She knelt and held out a hand.
He didn’t take it. Wouldn’t put them all in peril. Instead, he found a handhold to his left and steadied himself. He made the last step to the top.
Rising, she hugged him. “Thank goodness. You frightened me when—” She shuddered.
Petey’s arms were around Joe’s neck. Hazel’s arms were around his waist. Home sweet home. The words echoed through his thoughts. For this woman and child, he would do anything, including denying himself their company.
But not today. Today was for allowing his dream for a few hours.
She lifted her head from his shoulder, leaving a cold spot. “Joe, look around.”
He did. Last night, he’d seen the blackened land, all vegetation burned off. But now he got a better picture of how desolate it looked. “It’s God’s hand of mercy that we are alive.”
“And we aren’t going to waste that gift by fretting about what might be. It says in the Good Book, ‘Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”
“I know what you’re trying to do.” He didn’t often acknowledge hints or outright suggestions from people, having learned it was easier to ignore them and continue to do what he had to do. He would do the latter tomorrow. But not today. “Today is for us.”
The ground to the north of the gully had not been scorched, and he took her hand to walk in that direction. The prairie offered little in the way of shelter or places where they could be alone. He laughed, bringing her questioning gaze to him.
He explained, “How much more alone can we be?” He swept his gaze in a half circle. “Nothing as far as the eye can see but more nothing.” In the bright light of day, he couldn’t make out any sign of the town. “However, I have discovered the prairie holds secrets waiting to be discovered.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Little flowers. Curious animals. Snakes.” He offered the last in a teasing voice.
“Snakes?” She grabbed his arm and pressed close to him. “Biting snakes? Poisonous snakes?”
