Page 61 of Wagon Train Dreams
“Umm.” No need to say more. Hazel joined the others for the morning meal. She helped clean up and prepare for travel. For a time, she walked beside the wagon, but weary from lack of sleep, she soon climbed into the back.
When Joe didn’t join them for the noon meal, she soothed her feelings by reminding herself that he’d done this before. He had pemmican his mother made. He wouldn’t starve.
That, she reluctantly admitted, wasn’t the problem.
She missed him. Edginess consumed her as they took the noon break. Abandoning any hope of rest, she slipped away as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert anyone. At the edge of a stream, she sat and stared at the light flashing on the surface. How much longer would this journey take? Seeing Joe every day was a painful reminder of what she was surrendering.
She jerked her head up. Not seeing him would be even harder.
The men came to get the oxen, and she returned to the wagons. Petey still slept on the wooden floor, his favorite blanket pressed to his cheek. She would walk until he woke up. One plodding step in front of the other as they traveled over rolling, grass-covered hills. Very much like?—
Her feet refused to move. Gritting her teeth, she held back a moan.
These hills reminded her of the view she’d enjoyed with Joe on their picnic.
“Petey’s calling you,” Louise informed her.
Grateful for the distraction, Hazel hurried to get her son.
“Down, Mama.”
She fell back to where Bertie ambled along with his dog and goat. Petey was happy walking beside Bertie, and when his steps slowed, she and Bertie caught his hands and swung him, eliciting giggles from the child.
This was what mattered. Her son. Her brother. Her family.
At Fort Taylor, she’d purchase a house just as she planned and take in boarders. Never mind that it now felt like an endless round of washing sheets and preparing meals.
Joe didn’t return until it was time to stop for the day. He guided them to a pleasant spot. A babbling stream of water. Sheltering trees and plenty of grass.
The only thing missing was the sweetness of her love for Joe.
Love meant doing hard things. Still, denying herself his company was the most difficult thing she’d ever do.
Day after day, they trudged up and down grassy hills. Nothing exciting. But at least there was no danger. Just the same day after day.
No need to notice that the only bright spot in those boring days was when Joe appeared. Besides, that was not often enough. Gone early every morning. Appearing for the noon break and then not again until he guided them to a camping spot for the night.
He brought in game birds for a meal. He showed them berries to supplement the food.
Saskatoon berries.
Hazel couldn’t bring herself to look at him as memories of that day spent in his company flooded her.
And then it was Sunday again. What a difference a week had made in her life. Last Sunday, she was full of hope, overflowing with love for Joe. Now, she was doing her best to push that love to a corner of her heart where her hopes and dreams crawled away to die.
They paused for a short Sunday service such as they’d enjoyed from the beginning. Determined to move forward without acknowledging how her heart ached, Hazel pretended she didn’t notice how Joe hung back in the trees. Nor did she admit her gaze went that direction far too often.
She squeezed her eyes shut as Gabe prayed. When she opened them, Joe was gone. Finally, she was able to fill her lungs without a hitch in her breath. The pain in her ribs was only from sitting so long, holding Petey.
Relief sighed through her as they resumed traveling. It was good to be moving. Getting closer to their destination where she’d start over.
Joe appeared only briefly at the noon break and then was gone until it was time to stop for the day.
Hazel helped with the chores. She prepared vegetables for the stew. Petey needed diapers and some clothing washed, so she went to the river to get water. When a great weariness swept over her as she filled the bucket, she sat to regain her strength.
Father in heaven, help me. I’m weak. I’m tired. I’m sad. But I must do the right thing even if it’s hard.
Even burying Peter hadn’t been this hard. She stared across the water. Why was that so? Because every possibility of life with him had been snatched away. She was left with pain and loss and many “whys.” But all she had left was memories and a baby.
