Page 4 of Wagon Train Redemption
“I’m fine, Bertie.”
He rushed to her and enfolded her in such a tight hug that she struggled to breathe. “Those men not nice. I ’fraid, then sorry to leave you.” He released her.
She gasped in air. “Carson chased them off.”
“They’ve gone away with another Mountie,” Carson said.
“That good.” Bertie patted Carson’s back and then Angela’s. “You good too.”
“Yes, I am.” Carson and Angela answered in unison, and despite her deep-seated feelings toward the man, she laughed a little.
“Alice want to play.” Bertie jogged after the goat who skipped from rock to rock by the water and then climbed along the bank. Bertie followed with Carson and Angela behind him. Soon Bertie and his pets were chasing each other through the long dry grass that tugged at their feet. Bertie tumbled to the slope and laughed as Limpy licked his face.
Carson sat on the ground, lifting a dust cloud full of the spicy smell of grass and sending seeds into the air. “We might as well let him enjoy himself.”
“Of course.” When she remained standing, he patted a place beside him. “Join me.”
She didn’t want to sit with him. Could she offer some excuse to rush back to camp? But the warm sunshine tempted her to a few minutes of laziness. She lowered herself to the slope and arranged her skirt over her legs. A fly buzzed around her head, and she shooed it away, then tilted her head to listen to the trill of happy birds in the nearby trees. The air was soft and soothing, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it.
“You aren’t at all like I remember you.”
His words murmured through the warm air and jolted her from the moment of peace. “You mean I’m not a wayward child? Socially inept? A nuisance? A burden to your mother?” Why had she said that? Why did she even remember? It was four years ago. Things had changed. She had changed. Yet Carson’s words still stung like a fresh wound.
“What? Why would you say that?” Surprise and perhaps a touch of scolding filled hiswords.
She sat up straight, opened her eyes, and faced him, not quite meeting his look. “I didn’t say it. You did.”
“What? When?”
Her attention went to him. Was his surprise real? Had he forgotten? She held his gaze as she answered. “I overheard you say that to your father just days after I joined your family.” Did she succeed in keeping the bitterness from her words?
“I don’t recall saying that. But if I did, it was most unkind of me.”
“It certainly was.”
“You’ve harbored that these past four years?”
“I thought I’d dismissed it, but when I saw you again…” She shrugged. “It all came back.” Like a thunderclap. Like flooding waters covering her in their depths.
“I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Forgive? The concept was easy in theory. But his comment was another log on the wagonload of unkind words and unfair judgments she’d dealt with. “Your ma has taught me the importance of letting go of the past.” She clasped her hands together as if she could hold out against the rush of memories. “My own mother and father would say the same thing. They taught me that I am not what people say about me. Nor should unkind words be allowed to take root in my heart.” Her fingers tightened around each other. “I have found it easier to repeat those words than to feel them. But yes, I forgive you.” Theoretically. Surely the feeling would follow.
Carson rubbed his neck. “I’m truly sorry for hurting you.” He grinned crookedly. “If it’s any consolation, you’ve changed. Grown into a fine young woman.”
“Thank you and thank you for dealing with those unsavory visitors.”
“I’m glad I came when I did.”
He meant to the campsite where the men were threateningher, but did he also mean joining the wagon train and finding her so changed?
Too bad she couldn’t say she was glad he was accompanying them, but she couldn’t. Not when all her hurt feelings had returned. What would it take to make them vanish forever? And enable her to live a life free of shadows of her past?
Two
Carson mentally kicked himself. Had he really said such unkind things? It wasn’t like him at all. Or at least he wanted to believe it wasn’t. But he’d been an idealistic young man who quickly formed conclusions about those who didn’t live correctly in his opinion. He’d changed, hadn’t he?
“I like to think being on my own and being a Mountie for three years has taught me to be less judgmental in my opinions.” Was his tone gentle and placating? Or was there a hint of protest? In his defense, Angela had been rough around the edges when she joined the Woods family.
