Page 28 of Wagon Train Honor
“Ma never saw it.”
“What? Why not?” His eyebrows drew together. “Surely you weren’t afraid to show it to her.” He’d met her mother, and she seemed a kind, understanding woman.
Ruby’s shrug did not convince him it didn’t matter.
“Things happen.”
“Care to explain?”
Although her head remained bent, her pencil didn’t move. In fact, not a single muscle moved. He couldn’t even see her breathe. He touched her shoulder. “Ruby?”
Her neck muscles twitched. “I was about to show Ma, but she was searching for Irene. I wasn’t worried. Irene had a habit of disappearing. But she always came home. But it was dark, and she wasn’t back. Hazel was crying. I was maybe five, so she’d be like ten or eleven. She kept saying it was her fault. Ma was grabbing jackets and getting ready to head out to search for her.”
Ruby drew in a shuddering breath. “Pa stopped her. Told her to stay with the children. He’d find her. Ma clung to Hazel, crying and praying while poor Bertie rocked and fussed. Ma had to keep him from running out the door. When I saw how distressed they all were, I got really scared, and I promised myself I’d never do anything to upset them like that.”
“Showing them your drawing is hardly in the same category.”
She shrugged. “It was also not very important.”
“Irene was found safe and sound?”
“Yes, they found her. She’d discovered a baby rabbit and was playing with it. Wanted to bring it home but was afraid Bertie would take it from her. I guess Pa persuaded her to let it go.”
Robert stretched his legs out to their full length and leaned against a tree, staring into the patch of sky visible above the treetops. Why did it bother him so much that Ruby hadn’t shown anyone her drawing? That, as a five-year-old, she’d felt she must be careful not to cause trouble? Not that such a decision was wrong in and of itself. But thinking of her wanting approval from her parents and not getting it twisted a knot inside him. It wasn’t that they didn’t care. That was obvious…at least to him.
He jolted to his feet and made three strides before she called.
“Robert, what’s wrong?”
He ground around to face her. “I feel like I should hug you.”
“What? Why?”
He slowed his breathing. “Because no one admired your drawing when you were five years old.” He squatted in front of her and looked into her face.
Half a dozen different things raced through her expression. Surprise. Disbelief. Maybe a touch of gratitude and then peals of laughter rolled from her.
“Robert, I am fine. It doesn’t matter. Truly, it doesn’t. I’m happy with the work I do now. I’m looking forward to a future of drawing pictures The Society might use in their cataloging of flora.”
“Still. I can’t help but think how disappointed and hurt you were at five.” He pulled a leaf from the nearby branch. “I remember being five and how much things hurt.”
Her warm fingers brushed the back of his hand. “Maybe it’s you who needs a hug.”
Their gazes locked as they studied each other, allowing the other one to see their deep hurts.
He lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “You’re right. The five-year-old has grown up. I’m happy with my plans for the future.”
“As am I.” She closed the notebook. “I’m done here for now. Shall we move on?”
Somehow, her question seemed to mean far more than venturing further into the woods. It hinted at the future. Moving on. Leaving the past behind. Leaving the present behind as well. The thought jarred his happy musings.
Their plans for the future took them in different directions.
He allowed himself a moment of regret, admitting how much he enjoyed Ruby’s company, and then led the way through the trees.
Her thoughts in a tangle,Ruby followed Robert. Why was she always sharing things with him she’d never before confessed to anyone? It didn’t make sense. Except maybe it did. Perhaps when he’d discovered her secret—or did she mean secrets?—something inside her loosened. Like a lock falling from a door and a breeze easing it open.
Should she be concerned? Maybe. But she wasn’t. Her secrets, her confessions were secure with Robert and not solely because he was a Mountie or because he’d given his word. No, something about him informed her she was safe with him.
