Page 59 of Wagon Train Honor
She tossed her head enough that tendrils tickled her cheeks. “Of course I didn’t.”
“Ah. So, it was a flower you’d already seen and already drawn.”
“Huh. Don’t be so sure of yourself.” She looked into his eyes, trying to maintain a challenge, but at the twinkle there, she chuckled. “I have to admit you’re right. It was a flower I’ve already sketched.”
Amusement sparkled in his eyes.
She adopted a serious expression. “Maybe I’ve seen all the flora the prairies have to offer. But when I get to Banff, I’ll see all kinds of alpine flowers. Mr. Elliot’s book had samples of them.”
“Or you could grow your own. Surround your home with blossoms in every shape and color. Watch them grow from seed to flower and then produce seed again.”
The idea so surprised her that she stopped walking. A person could really study a plant if they grew it and watched it in every season. Perhaps, when she finished working with The Society, she would consider that.
But not yet. Not now. Now when the future as an illustrator beckoned.
She walked on. “I’ll be watching for more plants to draw on our journey.”
Chapter 14
Robert felt Ruby twitch when he suggested growing flowers around her own home. Would she give the idea some thought? He would dig gardens around the house for her. He’d dig them on each side of the vegetable patch. He’d build window boxes. He’d even bring in plants for the winter so she could enjoy growing things year-round. And maybe a room with all windows that she could fill with flowers and plants to her heart’s content throughout each season.
But he had a task to take care of.
“I need to go back to the homesite and see if anything suggests who the people were. I expect the deaths have been reported, but nevertheless, as a Mountie?—”
“I could go with you.”
“While I’d enjoy that, it will be much faster on horseback. I’d be back sooner.” Did she hear his promise? Not only to return quickly, but to continue to enjoy her presence. His shoulders twitched as he saw the end of that enjoyment when they parted ways far too soon.
He swung into his saddle, smiled goodbye to Ruby, paused to tell Walt his plans, then rode across the dusty ground, breathing in the scent of old grass. The place wasn’t hard to find, tucked into a little hollow, protected by trees. A well in the middle of the yard indicated where they’d gotten water. The graves were past the garden site, and he dismounted to approach them. Covered in yellow, just as Ruby said. The flowers were already wilting.
Removing his hat, he stood reverently and then jotted the names in his notebook. He circled the area, searching for anything to help identify this family. Avoided stepping on the wood as he went to the remains of the house. He toed aside a pile of dirt but found nothing but more dirt. He lifted the corner of the fallen wall. A bit of fabric lay beneath it, and he pulled it out. Only a fragment. It could have been part of a man’s shirt or a woman’s dress.
A careful examination of the entire area provided no further information.
He rode to the top of the rise and studied his surroundings. Heat waves made the horizon uncertain. Other than that, he saw nothing of interest and galloped back to the wagon train. He paused at Walt’s side.
“I can take them.” He reached for the rope.
Walt shook his head. “My sister-in-law is waiting for you.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t want her angry with me.”
Robert hesitated… out of duty not reluctance.
“Go on. The horses are no problem.”
It was all the urging Robert needed, and he swung to the side, dismounted, and smiled at Ruby.
“Did you find anything interesting?”
“Only you.” He shouldn’t have said that. It made him sound like the sort of man who trifled with every woman he met, and he hurried on before she could respond. “Oh, you mean back there. Nothing more than what you told me, I’m afraid.”
“I expect the flowers are wilted or blown away.”
“Still there but wilting.” He didn’t want to talk about the graves or the pain they signified. “It was nice you helped put them there.”
They passed several mounds of dirt the size of a Dutch oven. He pointed. “Gophers.” None of the animals stood by the holes. “They’ll hide until we pass.”
She caught his elbow. “Let’s stop.”
