Page 29 of Wagon Train Redemption
The satchel creaked as she searched inside and pulled out another volume. “Louise brought this one.” She held it toward him. “The Last of the Mohicans.”
“Thanks.” He turned to the first page and was soon immersed in the story to the point that when Joe spoke to them, Carson had to pull himself back to his present situation.
“Ma sent over food for supper.” Joe handed in a bowl of beans, another of preserved meat, and a tin Carson assumed would have cookies. “She apologizes that it’s cold fare.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Carson called. “It looks good.”
Joe rode away.
“Let me know when it’s my turn on guard duty,” Carson called after him.
“Yup.”
“I hate to think of you or anyone else out in this weather. The rain is still pounding.” Angela tipped her face toward the canvas. “But at least it isn’t leaking.”
Ruby, being closest to the grub box, filled plates and handed them out.
“I’ll give thanks.” Carson had taken his hat off with his slicker, and it was too crowded for him to stand, so he simply bowed his head. “Father in heaven, thank You that we are allsafe and dry. Please keep us that way. Thank You that we have food to sustain us and friends and family to comfort us. In Jesus’s name?—”
“Ask Him to stop the rain,” Angela whispered.
Carson smiled at her urgent request and continued, “And please send us sunshine, amen.”
“Thank you.” Her tone carried more gratitude than two simple words could.
Even though the food was cold, it warmed his insides. His plate clean, he handed it to Ruby and took four cookies. At some point, he’d have to slip out to relieve himself and allow the girls to use the pot he saw tucked away between boxes, but the idea of stepping out into the rain made him shiver.
“Are you cold?” Angela pressed closer to offer warmth.
“I was only thinking of the need to go outside. You know. For?—”
“You might have to make it sooner rather than later,” Ruby said. “Because—well, you know.”
He didn’t need to look at her to recognize her teasing imitation of him. “Very well.” He shucked out of the blankets and pushed to his feet.
“You’re letting in cold air,” Ruby protested.
“You can’t have it both ways. I can’t stay and keep you warm and go outside to—well, you know.”
Angela, laughing, gave him a little shove. “You two can’t do this all day, because—well, you know.”
Carson whooped as he drew on his slicker and hurried from the wagon. He circled the camp. Squinted to see through the sheets of rain. All he made out were wavy shadows of the wagons but nothing beyond them. He strained to hear any sound besides the splash of raindrops against wagons, animals, and sodden ground. He greeted Cecil who hunkered under the canvas, on guard duty.
“I’ll take over if you like.”
“No, we’ll take turns. Joe will let you know when it’s your time.”
Had he been away long enough? He’d certainly had enough of the pounding rain. He stopped outside the wagon. “Is it safe to come in?”
“Yes.” Angela’s voice welcomed.
“Enter if you dare.” Ruby growled.
“I dare.” He climbed to the seat, hung his slicker over the back, and hurried to the spot they’d kept open for him. He drew the blankets around him as the two girls pressed close to warm him.
The light faded. The sound of rain was disturbed by Gabe’s guitar as he and Ma sang “Home Sweet Home.”
Angela whispered, “I hope they aren’t referring to this as home.”
