Page 41 of Wagon Train Dreams
He grunted as if the oxen were being stubborn. But that wasn’t his reason. His wayward thoughts were annoying him.
The teams were ready, and he stepped back to join Gabe.
The others hovered nearby, anxious to discover how this would work. But he cared only that Hazel and Petey were out of harm’s way but watching the proceedings. He did not let his gaze linger. Nor did he meet her eyes.
“Ready?” Gabe’s question brought Joe back to the task. His responsibilities.
Joe circled the oxen, checked the harnessing, the wheels, and made a show of examining the wagon itself. “All set.” He walked on one side of the oxen, Cecil behind him at the head of the second pair, while Gabe and Walt walked on the other side.
At the flick of reins and snap of the whip, the oxen leaned into their task. They had six feet of level ground and then the bank. Joe had put out chunks of wood in several places. They’dblock the wheels and keep the wagons from rolling back if the oxen stopped, but the wagon inched forward. The women clapped when it reached level ground. The men unhitched the oxen and took them down. One team led to the next wagon, plus the rested team.
Again, Hazel watched, her gaze burning into Joe’s skin. The weight of the words she wanted to say pressed into him. Words he must not let her utter.
He checked the oxen and the wagon. This wagon had more damage. Would the wheel hold together until they got to the top? Until they reached town and made repairs?
The oxen strained up the slope. They reached the top without mishap. This was going better than he expected.
Amidst clapping, they returned to the bottom and hitched up two teams to the last wagon. The damage on this one had Joe studying it. Gabe joined him.
“It’s hanging on by a prayer,” Gabe said. He’d already prayed for a safe journey after breakfast before they began the climb.
Joe nodded. “Prayer is the only thing that will keep that wheel turning.”
“We’ll trust God to guide us. Either by holding the wheel together or by providing another way.” With a nod toward Joe, Gabe went to the oxen.
Joe joined him and urged the animals to pull. They did so. The wagon inched upward. It hit a bump and bounced. Fully expecting the wheel to give way, Joe picked up one of the blocks of wood, prepared to put it behind the wheels.
On the gully floor, Irene yelled, “Watch out.”
The other women called out a warning, but it was Hazel he heard. “Joe, be careful.”
A smile warmed his heart as he leaned over, prepared to put the wood in place. But the wheel continued to turn, and his lungs released.
They moved onward and cleared the top. Everyone cheered, and then the men skidded down the slope to join the women who had been instructed to stand aside until the wagons were safely up.
As they began to climb, the other men hurried to assist their wives. Joe hesitated. Hazel wasn’t his wife. Nor would he ever have that privilege. But she struggled to make progress with Petey in her arms. Bertie tried to help. But he was making it worse, and Marnie didn’t seem to notice.
Joe sidestepped to her. “Bertie, you go ahead. Call your pets. I’ll help Hazel.”
“Good.” He called his animals and scrambled up the slope.
“Come, Little Warrior.” Joe set the boy on his shoulders, one leg on either side of his neck. He steadied Petey with one hand, leaving him free to help Hazel with the other.
“Thanks, Joe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes said far more than her words.
He tipped his head, acknowledging her thanks. Then they began to climb. This slope had no rocks for footholds, and the oxen’s hooves had chewed up the ground, making it slippery. They slid back one foot for every two they went forward. By the time they made it to the top, dust clung to Hazel’s cheeks.
Joe grinned. “Been rooting in the dirt?”
She laughed. “You’d better have a look at your own face.”
He swiped at it with his hands. But, seeing they were dirty, it probably didn’t do any good.
The twinkle in Hazel’s eyes made him think he’d smeared it worse. Her smile made him wish?—
He set Little Warrior on his feet and turned his attention to things he had control over—the oxen, the trip, the wagons, the?—
So little. So very little. And none that mattered to his heart.
