Page 45 of Wagon Train Redemption
Sometime later, at Joe’s signal, they made camp. Like the others, Angela shaded her eyes and looked west toward the charred land. A whirlwind whipped up, black with ashes.
“I hope Carson doesn’t find trouble,” Ma said.
“He’ll handle whatever he finds,” Irene soothed.
“I know. But…” Ma didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. The others understood that she would shield him from pain and trouble if she could. Just as Hazel would for Petey and Louise for Dobie, though in the latter case, the poor child had already dealt with witnessing his parents’ deaths. There were things a child couldn’t avoid as Angela well knew.
The travelers set up camp. The routine was now so familiar that Angela doubted any of them had to think of what they were doing. She helped free the oxen from their yokes and led them to water. Ashes floated on its surface…a reminder of the fire to the west. Tenting a hand over her eyes, she stared into the distance, saw nothing more than she’d seen earlier—blackened land, swirling ashes, and the blue sky now tinted pink and orange.
Cecil informed her he was on duty to watch the oxen, and she returned to where Ma and Hazel had set up camp. There was always baking and a dozen other chores to attend to. Making biscuits was one task she took care of, and she set about mixing up the dough.
Conversation buzzed around her, but content to be an observer, she didn’t participate and didn’t really listen until Ruby nudged her.
“Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Angela continued to roll out the dough and cut the biscuits.
“I asked if Carson said anything about the homestead he plans to file on. Robert seemed to think we’d be neighbors with him. Oh, not next door but close enough to visit.” She barely paused to take a breath. “I wonder if he’s got someone picked out to marry. I wouldn’t mind having a neighbor woman nearby. We could exchange recipes. Maybe the four of us could go on picnics together and…”
Angela’s thoughts skittered off in their own direction. Did Carson have plans to marry? He hadn’t mentioned it. But she’d ask next time they talked. That topic would steer him away from wanting to know her past.
The biscuits were baked and resting on the table beside the stew Ma had prepared. Beans baked over the fire in preparation for tomorrow. Ma called, “Supper.”
Everyone gathered around the fire. Except Carson. Ma looked to the west. “I hope he’ll be back soon.”
Irene squeezed Ma’s shoulders. “He’s been managing fine as a Mountie for three years.”
“I know.” With a sigh of acceptance, she looked at Gabe whose smile was warm and encouraging. “Go ahead and pray. We won’t wait for him.”
Angela bowed her head as Gabe rose to ask the blessing. She added her own thanks for the warm, accepting family she’d become a part of. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her acceptance. As Pa had said when she first joined the Woodses, “This is your God-given opportunity to leave the past behind.”
While they ate, the talk turned to what each would be doing when they reached the fort. Angela nodded and smiled as plans were discussed. She, alone, had no plan, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from being happy for the others. They deserved every good thing that came their way. Pa would be pleased for them.
The meal over, she helped clean up, packed away food for tomorrow, and brought water from the nearby stream for washing. The chores done and the oxen settled for the night, Gabe brought out his guitar. As usual, he and Ma sang, “Home Sweet Home.” The words and music swelled in Angela’s heart, tightened her throat, and pushed tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. They all looked forward to a new home with those they loved.
Tomorrow, she would ask Carson for his help so she, too, could look forward to—well, if not a home shared with someone she loved, at least a place to belong.
Eleven
Carson rode onward, the ground beneath King’s hooves crackly, the air rank with the acrid smell of ashes. As far as he could see, the grass was scorched to the ground. It would grow back fresh and green, but in the meantime, it was barren. Not a blade of grass to feed an animal. It reminded him of the stories of the first Mounties trekking westward. There hadn’t been grass enough for the animals. Many of the horses had been near starvation when they detoured to the south in search of better traveling. That journey had been extremely challenging. But much had been learned, and things were now better.
Ma had told him of the fire that almost overtook the little wagon train. It was a miracle that escape was possible. As Ma said, “God’s gracious hand of mercy.”
Even though his thoughts wandered, he was attentive to his surroundings. In several places, bare bones of an animal lay exposed. Their condition bore the truth that the deaths had not been recent. He continually scanned the horizon seeing nothing but blackened earth. The railway tracks lay to the north, and he angled in that direction. He made out the shapeof buildings, and black ashes indicated the fire had burned that way. He squinted. Impossible to tell from this distance if any buildings had been consumed.
Soon he was close enough to see a wide furrow plowed around the town, providing a fireguard. It appeared the town had been spared any damage.
He crossed the muddy fireguard and made his way to the street paralleling the rail tracks where he’d find the majority of businesses. He reined in. The sign at the train station named the place Willowdale. The stand of willows across the tracks explained the name.
A wagon stood in the street, and a man and woman carried water from the town pump and sloshed it over the wagon box. The water ran off in black tendrils. The pair worked in unity, smiling and laughing as they passed each other.
Another example of the value of a partnership between a man and a woman. No doubt there was love too. But was love the binding factor, or was it their commitment to their task?
What would Pa say?
Pa loved Ma. That was obvious. But so, too, was their commitment to taking care of Bertie and the rest of the family. Seemed a good chance their feelings weren’t always what carried them through but their commitment to the common good. In other words, their partnership.
Pushing aside the thought for now, he sauntered down the street and drew abreast of the couple. They stopped at his approach. He introduced himself. “Constable Woods. You folk were fortunate enough to escape that fire.”
