Page 39 of Wagon Train Honor
“Right.” His swallow was audible. “How about over there?”
“Sure.” There were trees. What else did they need? She followed him. In the shade of the trees, there was scattered deadwood, though having been picked through by many travelers, the selection was down to thin branches. “Not the best selection.”
“Agreed.” He turned full circle, his expression thoughtful. “We could go further. Maybe back to the cliffs.”
“That’s a good idea.” Not only was it a good distance away but also it was full of pleasant memories shared with Robert. How impossible to believe she’d known him such a short time. She’d told him more secrets, more fears, more experiences than she’d ever told anyone else, and yet she felt safe trusting him with them. They’d become good friends.
“We don’t want to make too many trips back and forth,” Robert said. “We should get a horse to carry the wood.”
“Sounds good.”
They returned to the camp to inform Gabe of their plans. He approved, and they went to the corrals and caught up Robert’s packhorse.
“I’d like to stop at my camp.” Robert indicated the direction they should go. They passed the trading post. Behind it, in a hollow surrounded by rocks, he’d built a fire. Tucked away in the trees were his saddlebags and a pack. “I’m going to leave my red serge here.” He slipped from the jacket and pulled on the gray shirt he’d worn the day before.
“Something else we have in common,” she murmured, though she hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“What’s that?”
“I like gray.” She swept her hand over her skirt to illustrate. “Seems you do, too.”
He hung his tunic, adjusting the lapels so it retained its shape. “I have to say it looks better on you than on me.” His hands stilled. Slowly, he turned. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why? Isn’t it true?”
“Oh, it’s true.” His voice deepened. His eyes darkened.
“Then please don’t apologize.” Her gaze never faltered. “I don’t mind a compliment from time to time.”
“Good.” He caught her hand. “Then let’s be on our way.” The horse following them, they set off for the cliffs under a warm afternoon sun, the heat relieved by a gentle breeze.
What a perfect day for an outing. How nice that having a chore to complete provided an acceptable excuse for spending the afternoon in his company.
A question occurred to her. “It seems you weren’t able to attend school much.”
“True.”
“What about church?” Before he answered, she hurried on. “I lived all my life at Bruffin, Manitoba. Attended the same church every Sunday since I can remember. Went to box socials, Christmas concerts, and teas there. Not only was it the center of religious instruction but also where most of our social life took place. I’m trying to imagine not having that.”
“We attended church, though not many Sundays at the same one.” He guided the horse through a maze of rocks. “Ma had a book of lessons for Sunday school. It was big.” He held his hands apart to suggest a book perhaps twelve inches high and eight wide. “There were fifty-two lessons, each with an illustration depicting a scene from the Bible along with a Bible reading and a lesson on how to apply it.” The way his voice warmed made her realize how precious the memories were to him.
“What happened to it?”
“I don’t know if it got lost in our frequent moves. Or—” He brightened. “Maybe Ma gave it to Henrietta.”
“Have you ever asked?”
“No.”
“Why not?” They reached the stand of trees at the foot of the cliff.
“You have to understand that we lost many things in our flights.” His gaze sought the distant horizon. “I had a new coat that got left. Hennie was brokenhearted because she lost a book she loved.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I expect Ma lost many things.”
“That’s sad. I’m sorry.” If only there was a way to comfort him. She settled for patting his arm.
“Maybe it helps you understand how important it is for me to have a home…a real home.”
“I guess it does, and you deserve it.”
