Page 31 of Wagon Train Redemption
Yes, it had been fun so long as they didn’t go back any further than four years.
The wagon interior darkened, making it impossible to read or draw. She settled back, her legs stretched out until her feet rested against the box across from her. “You’re going to be crowded,” she murmured to Carson.
“I’ll be warm and dry. For that, I am grateful.”
“Carson, your turn to stand guard.” Joe’s call shattered Angela’s bemused state.
“Until you have to go out in the rain,” she murmured. Would it never stop? Where was all the water going? But she huddled under her blanket and didn’t bother looking outside. Besides, she’d see nothing in the darkness.
He eased from under the blankets, draped one over Ruby and the other over Angela. “You two stay warm.”
The wagon shifted and creaked as he stepped over Angela’s legs, pulled on his slicker, and headed out into the rain.
“I feel sorry for him,” Angela murmured. “It’s terrible weather.”
“He’s a big boy.” Ruby shuffled about until her shoulders were on the floor and her feet against the grub box. “Besides, he’s been out in worse. Remember that letter he sent Ma last winter. How he hunkered down in bushes with nothing to keep him warm but his horse during a snowstorm that lasted two days.” She chuckled. “Said he had to dig out from under three feet of snow.”
“Ma was worried about him after she read that.”
“And yet here he is safe and sound.” She yawned. “Carson learned at a young age to take care of himself.”
That sounded lonely. Something she’d never before associated with any of the Woods children. With so many siblings, how was that possible? Especially with parents who took such good care of them and a community where they were accepted. Though not everyone accepted them because of Bertie.
Angela got as comfortable as possible and fell asleep. Confusing dreams troubled her rest. She was going to church. But every time she reached the door, it slammed shut. Rocks pelted at her as she tried to wrench the door open. She woke up, her heart thudding against her ribs. It was a dream. Only a dream. Nothing real about it.
She shifted her position to watch the front of the wagon. Would Carson return tonight or stay out in the rain? Even under several layers of blankets, she felt the cold. He would be ten times colder. If she didn’t go back to sleep, that dream couldn’t return, but she failed to keep her eyes open.
Alarm coursed through her when movement jerked her from her slumbers. Her breath stalled partway up her throat. At first, she thought she was tipping. Or someone was pushingher over.
“It’s just me.” Carson’s whisper chased away the remnant of her dream.
His hand brushed against her hair as he felt his way to the empty spot. Cold wafted from him. She helped him find his blankets.
Ruby mumbled and turned away.
Carson eased himself between them. “Sorry I’m so cold.”
“No,I’msorry you’re so cold.” She tucked the blankets around him as best she could in the dark. The drumming rain hadn’t stopped. “It’s still coming down.”
“Yeah.”
Did she detect a note of concern? Or was he reacting to being cold? “Go to sleep,” she murmured.
“You too.”
Once again, sleep claimed her only to be disturbed by the same dream. Closed doors. Thrown rocks.
Someone caught her shoulder and shook her. She cried out in fear and protest.
“Angela, wake up.”
She struggled to the surface. The hand belonged to Carson. His voice comforted.
“You must have been dreaming.”
“Yeah.” She coughed to ease the tightness in her throat.
“It sounded like a bad dream.”
