Page 18 of Wagon Train Honor
For several moments, neither spoke. Then he gestured toward her sketchbook. “Are you finished with your drawing?”
“I think so. I’m never completely happy with the results. Black and white doesn’t do the flowers justice.”
“I suppose not.” He shifted to see her face. “What will your ma say when she learns you plan to go to Banff? Won’t she be disappointed?”
“Because I don’t stay with them?” Ruby shrugged. “She’ll have Bertie to take care of. And Petey to enjoy. And then I expect there will soon be babies.” She pushed to her feet. “Is there more to see?”
And less talk. Especially talk that suggested she was being—“It’s not selfish to plan to put the talent God has given me to good use. Teaching others about the flowers. Helping them see beauty.”
Chapter 5
Robert stopped, blocking the way through the trees. Not that doing so was his intent.
“Ruby, I wasn’t suggesting you were selfish. I only?—”
She lifted her dewy gaze to him.
“Oh, Ruby. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what he saw only that he regretted making her feel judged. “Your upbringing has been so different from mine. I assume you’ve always known home and security, while I got used to fleeing under cover of darkness. I longed for a home that lasted more than a few months. I find it hard to think of leaving behind what you have.”
As she nodded, the misery seeped from her eyes. “I suppose because I have always known where home was, I feel free to spread my wings. Home will always be there for me.”
“You are most fortunate.” A heavy sigh released from his chest, perhaps revealing as much as his words. “I’ve told you more about my family life than I’ve ever told anyone else.”
Her gaze searched his face. A smile widened her mouth. “And you, of course, know more about me than anyone else.” She tapped her notebook to indicate what she meant.
“You and me holding each other’s secrets. You know, it feels rather good.”
The two of them leaned on nearby trees, smiling at each other.
“Now we have another thing in common.”
His brows rose in question. “That being?—?”
“We’re secret keepers.”
A laugh rumbled up his throat. “I like that.” She smiled into his eyes until he almost forgot why they were standing in the middle of green-smelling trees. “I haven’t forgotten. I have many things yet to show you. Are you up for a bit of a walk?”
“Are you forgetting I’ve walked much of the way from Manitoba?” Her voice grew bubbly, so his question amused her.
He grinned. “You’re such an itty-bitty thing. I have trouble imagining that.”
“Itty-bitty?” She sputtered. Then, she drew herself up taller. “I’ll have you know that, as the youngest in the family, I learned at an early age to stick up for myself.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. I know Carson would run to defend you, and I’m quite sure your sisters would as well. Am I right?”
“Maybe to a degree, but—” Her words slowed. Her eyelids fluttered. “It was Pa who rubbed my bruises and picked me off the ground when I fell down.”
“Tell me about your father.” He enjoyed hearing of a family such as he wished he’d had. But they weren’t moving fast enough, and he caught her hand and urged her on. At a moderate pace, for sure. One that allowed her to talk as she walked.
“I miss Pa. He passed away over a year ago, but we lost him before that.” Her voice shattered. “He suffered so with pain.”
He put his arm over her shoulders. “That would be hard.”
“Harder than you can imagine. Ma was strong, though. She cared for him right to the end.” A shudder shook her, and he squeezed her closer. “Poor Bertie had the hardest time. How do you explain death to someone like him?”
“He doesn’t seem sad.”
“This trip has been good for him. Do you wonder why we’re traveling by wagon rather than one of those steel trains that would take us there in much less time?”
