Chapter 13

T he horses followed along peaceably. They didn't need Robert's full attention, but he forced his thoughts to stay with them. That's what should have occupied his mind from the start of this journey. How would he explain it if they'd run off in the dust storm while he was holding Ruby close and admitting his feelings had gone much further than enjoying a couple of days together at Cypress Hills? Much further than thinking of her as Carson's youngest sister? Nor could he say when he realized the fact. But when he'd told her about his plans for his house, he saw her in the window, smiling at him, saw her at the table serving a meal, saw her at the stove cooking something, saw her?—

Everywhere. Her presence permeated his plans. Holding her during the storm had cemented them. Like those cliffs they'd visited back in Cypress Hills.

His jaw hurt, and he forced his muscles to relax.

She was correct though. From the start, they'd known their goals took them in opposite directions. He'd asked her to reconsider her plans, and she wouldn't.

If she'd asked him to reconsider his, he would've responded the same way. Having a permanent home was more than a goal or a dream. It was something his heart needed. Like flowers needed sunshine. Like grass needed rain.

He nodded and let his disappointment ease out on a slow exhale. He could continue to enjoy her presence as friends. Nothing wrong with that. After all, this discovery of picturing her in his house, wanting her in his home was new. It could be simply because they were spending so much time together. Or as Ma said on more than one occasion, "Follow your heart to your downfall. Follow your head to your strength." Usually, she referred to her marriage to Robert's father. She'd let her attraction to his handsome father and his initial kindness when he courted her blind her to what she knew about the man. Even before they wedded, Ma knew of his weaknesses. The way he walked on the narrow edge of law abiding and his often drunkenness.

Lord, keep me from following my wayward heart.

By the time they halted for the day, his thoughts were back in place, but he wasn't quite ready to face Ruby. He welcomed the need to take care of the horses and then took himself downstream to a private place and had a chilly bath to rid himself of the layer of dust he carried.

Done with that, he wandered along the water's edge, moving silently as he sought signs of being followed. If there were men out there, they'd be alert to a horseback rider. Not someone on foot.

He stopped at a clearing where the openness allowed him to see a good portion of their back trail. The grass bent and bowed. Tree branches waved. Bushes rattled. But he saw no indication of men. He sniffed. Caught a hint of campfire, but the breeze brought it from the wagon train. So he retraced his steps.

Again, he paused before he made himself known.

The bonds between these family members reinforced how much he longed for permanency. To wake every morning to familiar faces. Grow old and wrinkled with the same face. Know his neighbors. Know?—

He would follow his dream. His lifelong dream.

Ruby straightened and glanced toward the horses. He believed he was out of sight, and yet her gaze found him. Even across the distance, the power of her look cut to his core. And the blue blaze in her eyes struck deep. What was she thinking?

A smile flicked across her face. She lifted her hand to her waist in a wave and then trotted toward him.

"Friends?" The uncertainty in her voice stung. Did she think he'd abandon their friendship because she didn't want to be part of his plans?

"Friends." He squeezed her shoulder, and they fell in step as they crossed to the campsite.

"You're just in time for supper."

"I smelled the smoke, detected the scent of roast venison." But the enticement of food wasn't what made his lips curve upward as he chose a stool near the fire.

His smile settled in the depths of his heart when Ruby perched next to him and Gabe offered a heartfelt grace. Yes, they were grateful for food and doubly so for safety.

Conversation flowed around him as the travelers discussed how they'd felt during the storm, how they'd spend some time brushing dust from their wagons and the need for a good wash.

"I found a little spot downstream where you might bathe if you don't mind the cold water."

"That explains why you're so clean and shiny," Ruby murmured.

"Thanks," he whispered, resisting an urge to expand his chest.

"I'll find that place as soon as we finish eating." Mrs. Miller cleaned her plate and looked at the others. "What's taking you so long?"

Chortled laughter answered her.

"Why don't you and Gabe go ahead?" Hazel suggested. "I'm going to heat water here for Petey. Poor baby has dust in every corner of his skin."

"Don't mind if we do." Mrs. Miller got a few things out of her wagon. Then, she and Gabe made their way to the water.

Robert held back a warning to be on the lookout for intruders. After all, Gabe wasn't a greenhorn.

Ruby gathered up the used dishes. She washed them in the basin of hot water as Angela dried them. Robert would have grabbed a towel and helped, but he wasn't needed. Nor would he let himself imagine being in the kitchen with Ruby, overlooking the mountains, doing dishes together.

The couple returned, and Irene and Walt left.

Robert's gaze followed them. Someday, he promised himself, he'd have someone to walk on his arm, to share intimate moments with, to fill the needs of his heart.

Both Petey and Dobie received baths in warm water.

Ruby and Angela gathered items from their wagon and took their turn going to bathe.

Robert pretended not to watch and wait for their return. Then Ruby stepped into view, all bright and shiny as she'd called him. She sat close to the fire and brushed her hair as it dried. The flames turned her golden hair into dancing firelight.

Irene took Petey while Joe and Hazel left for their baths.

Dobie sat in front of Robert. He indicated Robert's waist. "Why don't you have your gun?"

The sidearm was part of his uniform, and he seldom was without it. He'd left it behind while escorting Ruby around Cypress Hills. But here? "My ma never allowed guns in the house and certainly not at the table. This is like a house and a table, don't you think?" The pistol was within reach should there be a need for it.

Dobie nodded solemnly. "My new ma and pa say we will have a real home someday."

"That's something to look forward to."

Leaning closer as if to share a secret, Dobie whispered, "I might have a little brother or sister too."

"That sounds like fun."

"Yeah." His nod unsettled his still-damp hair.

The boy studied Robert and looked about ready to ask more questions when Bertie spoke.

"Alice want to play."

Dobie hurried off to join Bertie, and they played with the animals.

With a start, Robert realized how long he'd been whiling away the evening hours, his duties forgotten. He hurried back to the horses, pausing to strap on his gun belt.

One mare whinnied as he passed the herd. Another bobbed its head. Apart from that, they were content.

He circled the area, checked the ropes, and scanned the distance for signs of a campfire. Nothing.

Guitar music reached him. He leaned back on his heels to listen to the group sing and hummed along with the songs he knew. The music stopped. Murmurs of conversation carried on the wind. Wagons creaked as individuals climbed into them.

The sounds of them settling in for the night comforted him. An echo of the song Gabe and his wife always sang, "Home Sweet Home." Of course, this wasn't home, but it was most certainly family.

Joe joined him. "Guess you and I will take first watch." They parted ways, going in opposite directions.

Robert passed the wagons. Keeping a distance from them, he paused to study the camp. The fire burned low. Two people sat near the coals. The flash of moonlight on golden hair convinced him one was Ruby. The second person was too shadowed for him to be certain, but most likely, it would be Angela. The two of them were often together. He watched and waited. Why hadn't they gone to bed like the others? Then they rose and headed for one of the wagons. Only shifting shadows allowed him to see Ruby take bedding and settle under the wagon. Angela must've chosen to sleep under cover of the canvas bonnet.

They were settled. Everyone was safely tucked away. He smiled as he continued his rounds.

Not until he passed Joe and climbed an incline that allowed him to see into the distance did he admit it was lonely out here by himself.

Ruby wakened slowly. She'd hoped Robert would take last watch as he'd done the previous night, and then she'd slip out early to keep him company. But he'd taken first watch. She would not admit she was disappointed. Especially when Angela suggested she was.

Did that girl have nothing to do but analyze every move Ruby made?

Today, she would give neither Angela nor Robert a reason to think she was being anything but friendly.

As soon as she had her bedding stowed in the wagon, she hurried to the fire where Ma was already at work. She joined her sisters in preparing food for both breakfast and the noon meal.

The coffee bubbled, sending out an aroma that always drew the men in. Yup. Here they came. All of them, she noted. And no, she did not look for Robert first. That would be foolish. They were friends and nothing more.

Yet when he filled his cup and moved closer to her, she couldn't keep back her smile.

For some reason that she wasn't aware of, breakfast was rushed. Then Gabe got out his guitar, carrying his Bible in his other hand. It was Sunday, and she'd forgotten. Perhaps because she wanted time to slow down, maybe even stand still.

She settled back, prepared to enjoy the short service they always had. It might be that what she enjoyed most was Robert sitting beside her, his voice harmonizing with hers when they sang. She listened intently to the Scripture Gabe read, though she couldn't have told anyone what it was. After a quick prayer for continued safety, the camp was all too soon packed up, and the horses made ready to move out. Not that hurry was unusual. Nor would she admit perhaps she hoped they'd linger.

Robert rode with the horses, which was fine. She drove the wagon. That was as it should be. No reason to think otherwise. It wasn't as if she thought he'd ask her to walk with him. Or if she wondered if he'd find some flowers to show her.

No. Not at all.

So what if she repeated those words to herself a number of times until Joe finally called for them to stop for the noon meal.

Of course, someone needed to stay with the animals while they ate, drank, and rested. But why did it have to be Robert? Yes, the horses were his responsibility. But still?—

Having had enough of her mental arguing, she loaded a plate. "I'll take this to Robert."

No one said anything, though Angela's lips quivered as if she was trying to stop a smile.

The grass shushed under Ruby's feet on her way to where Robert sat by the stream.

"Hi." Although he spoke, he didn't turn.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I'm a Mountie. It's my job to know. Besides, I heard you leave the camp." He took the plate from her. "Thanks." He patted the ground beside him, and she folded her legs to sit.

"Did you see any pretty flowers today?" And no, she didn't mean, did he think of her?

"Mostly, I ate dust."

"Of course." Always leading the horses. It was his job. She knew it. Understood it and yet… "I tried to watch for some as I drove the wagon. Once, I saw a whole mass of yellow flowers to the right, and another time, I saw a smattering of pale blue, like harebells. 'Course I couldn't stop and look." She shrugged. "Had to keep driving the wagon."

"Yup. Duty calls." He spooned in cold beans and followed with a gulp of water.

"The trouble with duty is it's always followed by more." She leaned over her knees to distract him from her morose tone.

It didn't work, and he chuckled. "Sounds like you're finding duty offers cold comfort."

"Finding it to be very boring." She tapped the sketchbook hidden in her pocket. The thud informed him of its presence. "I want to draw something."

"Here's your chance. No one's here. You're not bouncing on a wagon seat or trudging along, so go ahead. You know I like watching you draw."

She hesitated. "I never draw in front of my family." She had her reasons, though at the moment, they quite escaped her memory.

"I understand that." He scraped his plate clean. "What do you see that you'd like to draw?"

Him. She'd like to draw him again. But people weren't her usual subject. Plants were. Nothing growing along the water's edge excited her. Ordinary grass. Bushes such as she'd drawn already. Aspens with fluttering leaves. Already done. She shaded her eyes to look further afield. "I guess I could draw a landscape." Again, not her usual fare. But now that she'd said it, the idea appealed. She pulled out her sketchbook, unhooked her pencil, and drew in the horizon, broken by hills and trees. She drew the nearby stream, making it look gurgly. Then she filled the sky with bubbly clouds. Satisfied with the quick sketch, she relaxed.

"I've never been interested in landscapes, but something about this…" She waved to the world spreading out before them.

"Maybe it's broadening your horizon." He ran his finger along the skyline on the page.

Whether or not he did it intentionally, she laughed at his pun.

Behind them, the scuffle of people moving around and footsteps heading toward the oxen warned her the noon break was over, so she stowed her sketches away in her pocket. She stood and paused to give him a chance to suggest they walk together. When he didn't, she said goodbye and hurried to rejoin the others.

Angela insisted she would drive the oxen. "You can ride if you like."

"I'll see if Hazel needs help with Petey." But Hazel waved away her inquiry. "I'm going to rest with him."

Ruby walked beside Louise and Dobie, laughing as the youngster ran ahead, then raced back.

"He's full of energy," she commented.

"It's a sign he's adjusting to his new circumstances."

"I'm glad he found you and Cecil."

Louise glowed. "I'm glad we found him."

They climbed a slight rise. In the hollow was a thicket of trees. To the right of that, a sagging wall and scattered lumber suggested an abandoned home.

"Can I look?" Dobie called.

"Be careful." Louise turned to Ruby. "I don't suppose he's in any danger."

"I shouldn't think so. Besides, he's learned to manage better than many twice his age."

"That's sadly true. His parents were very good teachers."

Wanting to ease the sadness dulling Louise's voice, Ruby said, "He's been blessed by a new set of parents who are loving and kind."

"Thank you." Louise inhaled sharply. "He's found something."

Dobie raced back to them, his face white. "Ma, come. I found…" His voice broke, and he couldn't go on. He grabbed Louise's hand and tugged her to follow.

"I'll come, too." Ruby called to Gabe that they were going in that direction.

The wagons trundled on. It would be easy enough to catch up to them.

The three of them hurried to the old homesite, past the fallen walls, past a rough bit of ground that had been broken at some time for a garden but was now overgrown with weeds.

Dobie stopped. "Ma?" He stared at three wooden crosses. Two small piles of dirt indicated children. The other one larger for an adult. From the wooden marker at the larger grave hung a crude metal cross made from two nails. "Like my mama and papa."

Louise fell to her knees and folded the child into her arms as he sobbed.

Ruby touched the nearest wooden cross. Something had been burned into it and the others. Names. Sara and Bruce on the smaller ones. Her throat closed off with tears. A name on the larger cross was almost worn away, but she made out Jane. Two little children and their mother.

So much heartache.

"Come, Dobie. Let's get back to the wagons."

"But they'll be here all alone."

The wagons waited, and Cecil rode over to check on them. He saw the crosses, saw Dobie's tears, and scooped the boy into his arms.

Ruby felt a little like Dobie. It was sad to leave them here alone. But what could they do? Then a flash of yellow caught her eyes. "Dobie, look. We can put flowers on the graves."

"That's a good idea," Louise said, and they all made their way over.

By the time they returned to the graves, no more yellow dotted the grass, but a carpet of that color covered the mounds of dirt.

Dobie looked it over with approval.

"Are you ready to leave?" Cecil waited for the boy's answer.

"Pa, you should pray."

No one questioned Dobie's reasoning. Cecil removed his hat, and the four of them bowed their heads as Cecil offered up a prayer. "Our loving heavenly Father, we ask for Your peace and Your protection as we finish our journey. Thank You that You have promised to never leave us or forsake us. In Jesus' precious name, we pray. Amen."

The air felt holy to Ruby and perhaps to the others as no one moved. Behind them, Cecil's horse shuffled, growing restless.

"Time to go." Cecil swung into his saddle, lifted Dobie up behind him, and rode back to inform the others they were ready to move on.

Louise and Ruby soon caught up to the wagons. Ruby peered across the milling horses for Robert. Their gazes connected through the veil of dust, his full of concern touched with curiosity.

If they walked together, she could tell him what happened.

Would he join her? Intending to make it easy for him to do so, she fell behind the wagons, walking a dust-free distance from the horses.

Walt took the lead rope. Robert rode to Ruby's side and dismounted to walk beside her.

"What was going on over there?"

She told him of the three graves, her words catching in her tight throat. "Sara, Bruce, and Jane." Her cough hid her emotions. Perhaps not well enough as he put a warm hand on her back.

"That's sad."

"Dobie was concerned about leaving them. So, we picked flowers for the graves."

"That's nice. The boy is sensitive."

"'Cause death is so real to him." She shared how Cecil and Louise found him alone with his deceased father and his mother on her deathbed. "She'd prayed for him to find a new mother and father, so he was ready and willing to go with them. He said they were an answer to his mama's prayers. He's adjusted very well."

"Poor little guy. That's quite an experience for one so young."

"No wonder seeing those graves upset him." Again, her voice cracked. "It was upsetting for me too."

His hand squeezed her shoulder. "Of course it was."

"Cecil prayed at the graveside—at Dobie's request."

"I admire that boy."

"Me too." They walked in companionable silence for a spell, his arm warm and heavy across her shoulders.

"Did you happen to keep one of those flowers in the hopes of drawing it?" He jostled her a little, his voice ringing with teasing.

She tossed her head enough that tendrils tickled her cheeks. "Of course I didn't."

"Ah. So, it was a flower you'd already seen and already drawn."

"Huh. Don't be so sure of yourself." She looked into his eyes, trying to maintain a challenge, but at the twinkle there, she chuckled. "I have to admit you're right. It was a flower I've already sketched."

Amusement sparkled in his eyes.

She adopted a serious expression. "Maybe I've seen all the flora the prairies have to offer. But when I get to Banff, I'll see all kinds of alpine flowers. Mr. Elliot's book had samples of them."

"Or you could grow your own. Surround your home with blossoms in every shape and color. Watch them grow from seed to flower and then produce seed again."

The idea so surprised her that she stopped walking. A person could really study a plant if they grew it and watched it in every season. Perhaps, when she finished working with The Society, she would consider that.

But not yet. Not now. Now when the future as an illustrator beckoned.

She walked on. "I'll be watching for more plants to draw on our journey."