Page 43 of Wagon Train Redemption
“Really? I love that.”
“Me too. And my ma had me do the same thing.”
She stopped, and so did he, rather than break their contact. “That’s how you became a believer?”
He nodded, his gaze riveted to hers. “How did you become one?”
“It wasn’t so simple for me.” Her lips worked in and out. “I left Mama’s graveside with Father. When we got home, he sat at the table, reading his Bible and praying, and I started to scream. What kind of God lets such bad things happen? Father pulled me to his knees, even though I struggled againsthim. He held me until I calmed down, and then he talked. He said God wasn’t to blame for cruel events or cruel people any more than Mama could be blamed when one of her flowers died. He said God loved me even more than Mama or he could. He added that, more than anything, Mama wanted me to trust God no matter what.”
“That must have been hard.” Did he mean the scene where she screamed about her loss or the challenge to believe as her mother wanted?
Angela nodded. “At first, I couldn’t trust that God loved me. But I remembered all the lessons Mama had taught me…Bible stories, stories from her life about God’s love and care. Slowly, I began to trust God.” She paused and then added, “But trusting people doesn’t come as easily.”
His low chuckle was acknowledgment of her statement. “I guess, as a Mountie, I’ve learned some people shouldn’t be trusted.”
She studied his face. “Your upbringing has been so different from mine.”
“And yet here we are on the same wagon train, going the same direction.”
They walked on in companionable silence for several yards. She jerked his arm to get his attention.
“I never did properly thank you for saving me from drowning.” Before he could respond, she continued. “I worried you might catch pneumonia or a cold when you rode off so soon afterward. Before you even got warm.”
“I was fine, but thank you for your concern. I’m glad I was able to pull you out of the water. And no ill effects for you?”
“None whatsoever.” She glanced up at him and then away as if she wanted to tell him something but didn’t know if she should.
“What is it? You can tell me.”
She avoided meeting his gaze as the words stumbled fromher. “I called your name as I went under. I thought if anyone would see my need, it would be you.”
“Me?” He nearly tripped, both surprised and pleased. “Why me?”
Her eyes widened as she looked directly at him. “Because you’re a Mountie.”
“Because—” He whooped with laughter. “Are Mounties supposed to have the ability to foresee such things and run to the rescue?”
She batted her eyes. “You mean they don’t?”
His laughter grew in volume until it drew Ma’s attention. He sobered enough to talk. “I’ll have to check my handbook and see if I missed a chapter describing that skill.”
“You do that. You might be surprised at what you learn.” Flashing light in her eyes accompanied her grin.
She was surprisingly fun to talk to. Something he hadn’t discovered before he left home.
“You ever go fishing?” The subject didn’t matter. Only talking to her, learning about her did. There remained so many unfilled years to discover and only a few days of this journey to learn everything.
“My father also took me fishing. Sometimes Mama would come along before—” She swallowed audibly.
He squeezed her fingers to let her know he understood how difficult it was to talk about her mother. Strange how normal it felt to hold her hand. Did she feel the same ease about doing so?
She flashed a smile at him. “The creek ran through a pond in the back of our farm. I don’t think anyone else knew of its existence.” Her words caught. “Though it’s strange that they didn’t. Maybe Father had let it be known it was private property. Hmm. I do recall a couple of No Trespassing signs but—” Her steps slowed to a stop. Her fingers curled against his hand. “I just realized something.”
Whatever unexpected thing she’d remembered, he wouldn’t go on until she told him. Until he’d been able to erase her shocked expression. “What did you realize?”
“I thought everyone had such signs at the edge of their property. But I never saw any when I joined your family. Not a one.” Her gaze riveted to his. Demanding. Or was it searching? Begging?
Tightness rose up his throat at the need he saw. How was he to meet it, especially when he didn’t understand it? “Maybe things were different there?” His tone was tentative.
