Chapter 10

“Don’t move.” Louise kept her voice low and calm. “On the other side of that bush before you is the skunk.”

Cecil stood motionless. “Is it moving away?”

“No. It’s digging. I suppose it’s looking for grubs to eat.”

“Can you shoo it off?”

The laugh she gave was short and mirthless. “I don’t want either of us to get sprayed.” A hunk of wood lay at her foot “I have an idea.” She picked up the wood and tossed it through the trees. Not directly at the skunk but close enough she hoped it would draw the animal’s attention.

At the thud, the little creature looked up, sniffed the air, then returned to digging.

“Is it gone?”

“Nope. I’ll try again.” She tossed another piece of wood. It landed closer, but again, the skunk didn’t consider it a threat. “Well, really. What does a person have to do to get it to leave?” She kicked at the nearest tree. Her shoe barely made a sound. Enough was enough. She yelled and beat the branches over her head.

“Louise! I have no desire to be sprayed.”

“And I have no desire to stand here all day waiting for it to move along.” She yelled again.

The skunk looked up. Backed away from the hole it dug and, with another sniff, ambled away.

“It’s gone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Check for yourself.” She couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Just don’t blame me if you get sprayed. And be prepared to camp far away from the rest of us.”

“Louise.” The word held a warning. He headed toward her, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth pulled down into a threatening grimace.

Uh-oh. Maybe she’d gone too far. She backed away, never taking her attention from him.

The distance between them narrowed. Her steps slowed as the ground grew rough. He was right in front of her. He reached for her.

With a shriek of protest, she scurried backward. Her heel caught on something. Off-balance, she flung out her arms to bring herself to rights.

He caught her elbows too late, and she went down, taking him with her. She thudded to the ground, Cecil on top of her.

His weight pressed her arms to the ground. Eyes as black as midnight held hers, and then he gasped and rolled off. “I’m sorry.”

“My fault.” She managed a fair-to-middling tone when her whole insides quaked. From landing hard, of course. If she kept her eyes closed and lay motionless, maybe this whole situation would vanish. Maybe she could bring her fickle feelings into submission. Because what she felt, what stirred her heart into a crazy dance could not be wanting this man. She wouldn’t allow that. Any more than she’d allow wishing she could open her heart—her life—to him. It was as foolish as wishing she was a different person. Someone younger. More attractive. More fun! For goodness’ sake, when had she ever wanted to be thought of as fun? She knew what she was. A serious-minded spinster.

Her teeth hurt from how hard she clenched them. Her chest protested sharply as she forced air in and out. In and out. In and out. In?—

How long was it going to take for her to feel normal?

Rustling near her head made her jerk her eyes open and look in that direction. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. “Is it the skunk?”

Cecil raised himself on his elbows and craned around. “I don’t see anything.”

The rustling came again.

“Louise, you have to see this.”

Cautiously, she sat up and faced the sound.

The skunk ambled away, four kits marching in her wake.

She looked to Cecil, and they both laughed softly, careful not to draw the attention of the parade of black-and-white animals.

The look went on and on, rife with possibility.

The truth of what she meant jerked her to her feet. No. There were no possibilities between her and Cecil. She’d seen how he and Hazel fit together and wasn’t about to get in the way of that. Besides, she was older than he. Only by a few years but vastly by responsibility and experience. Not only that, she meant to be a wilderness nurse. Taking healing and comfort to those beyond the fort.

The skunk was no longer a threat, so she scrambled to her feet to hurry back to where she’d lost her wood.

“Louise, slow down before you fall again. Twice in one day is enough. We don’t want a third time.”

But she couldn’t slow her pace. Just as she couldn’t stop regrets from rushing up her throat. An old maid is what she was and what she meant to remain.

Her arms full of the gathered wood, she headed back to camp, Cecil on her heels carrying more wood.

“Louise, I’m sorry I fell on you. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” From now on, she’d make sure she wasn’t interfering with the romance between Cecil and Hazel. Petey needed a father. Hazel needed a husband.

Louise didn’t.

They reached camp.

Her armload of logs crashed to the ground. His followed. She tossed three pieces of wood on the fire.

“I’m going to bake.” Somehow, she’d figure out a way to make cookies. And if it took the rest of the day and several others, all the better.

Her friend sat nearby. “Hazel, you should take Petey for a walk. Get him some exercise so he sleeps tonight.”

Petey cocked his head at his name, his blue eyes big. “Walk?” He trotted toward the trail, his short legs churning.

“Wait for Mama.” Hazel dashed after him.

Louise waited for Cecil to follow. Instead, he stared at the flames. She cleared her throat.

His head jerked up.

“Would you like to go with Hazel?”

The fire snapped. He blinked.

“Make sure she’s all right.” Still nothing. “I’d go, but I plan to bake.”

Cecil frowned toward Hazel, then to Louise. “I want to make sure you’re all right.”

The emphasis on you’re was purely in her imagination. She pushed aside the disobedient thought.

“I’m fine, as I’ve already told you.” She shuddered at the sharp tone so unlike her.

Sparks flew upward as he kicked at a log. Then he hurried away without a backward look.

She expected nothing else. He didn’t need to hover around her. She didn’t want it. Nor would she watch him join Hazel or take note of Hazel’s laughter.

By the time they returned, she’d baked a dozen cookies in the Dutch oven. By trial and error and remembering things Marnie said while baking this way, she’d managed to get the right number of coals both on top and on bottom of the heavy black pot.

The aroma drifted away from the fire. Maybe drawing the others back.

“Those smell wonderful. Can we eat one now?” Hazel rubbed her hands together and hovered over the rack of cooling cookies.

“I thought you might say that. There’s tea ready and waiting, too.” Louise nodded toward the pot.

“Gramma would enjoy this.”

At Cecil’s words, Louise’s hand froze midway to the Dutch oven. He better not think she’d done it to remind him of his grandmother and the things he’d shared about her.

For certain, she hadn’t baked raisin-oatmeal cookies because she was thinking of him. They simply seemed the easiest to make.

They all ate a cookie and drank tea except Petey, who drank water.

The lid clanged as she removed the latest batch of cookies. Sweat beaded her forehead while she worked close to the fire. Lifting a corner of her white apron, she wiped her face and squinted at the hint of blood when she eased the fabric away. She could almost forget about falling except for this and the ache in both her cheek and her hand. The bruises on her knees weren’t worth mentioning. Any more than the ache in the depths of her being needed to be acknowledged.

It was the result of her fall. Or maybe her falls. It was a physical ache. Not a heart pain.

She needed to keep her thoughts focused on practical matters, like the food she tended.

Beans simmered in another pot. She’d tested them several times, adding salt, pepper, and spices from the limited supply. She lifted the lid and stirred them. They would be cooked for supper.

Until the next batch of cookies was baked, she had nothing to do. She clasped her hands together and stood away from the fire. Hazel sat across from Louise. Petey played with his ball. Cecil perched on a log, staring at the tea in his cup.

What could she do to ease the stiffness between them?

“Hazel, I was telling Cecil about the quilt squares we’ve been embroidering. Yours are very nice. Why don’t you show him what you’ve done?”

Both Hazel and Cecil shook themselves as if leaving some distant place in their thoughts.

At first, Hazel didn’t move. Then she pushed to her feet as if her body weighed five hundred pounds. She trudged to the wagon and drew her sewing satchel toward her. The latch clicked open, and she removed the quilt squares.

Back at the fire, she sat and fondled the fabric. A soft sigh whispered over her lips.

“This is what I’ve done so far.” She fluttered the pieces but didn’t offer any to Cecil.

Well, for goodness’ sake. Did Louise have to do it for her?

“Show him the one you made of Petey. The one with the ball.”

Hazel looked at Louise, her eyes wide as if asking why she was doing this.

She was only trying to help.

Petey cocked his at Louise and then at his mother. “Ball?” Seeing it nearby, he scooted over to pat it.

It was a perfect opportunity for Cecil to play with the boy, but he made no move to do so.

Louise closed her eyes and shook her head. Why were these two practically ignoring each other? Had they had a squabble while out walking?

“Did you find that square?” She knew the answer. Hazel hadn’t tried.

Her friend sighed, then slid a bit of white fabric from her collection, and held it toward Cecil.

He flashed a look at Louise before he took it. “That’s nice.”

That was it? The square had a bright red ball held in a pair of tiny hands.

“She’s done a wonderful job. Hands are hard to do.”

“It’s good.”

Louise squinted at Cecil. This was not like him. Normally, he was the one who rejoiced with others, made them laugh, or at least smile. Had he hurt himself when they fell? And what kind of nurse was she not to check?

She stepped toward him and then stopped as Hazel fumbled with another square and showed it to him.

“I wanted to show Joe looking noble, but I couldn’t get it right. So I settled for showing his moccasins.”

Cecil chuckled. “They look like they’re waiting for Joe to step into them.”

As the pair settled into discussing their scout and guide and reminiscing about the times he’d rescued them and the trips he’d made to the towns along the way, Louise stood back, satisfied things were going as she wanted.

“It’s unfair that he is judged harshly because he’s part Native.” Hazel’s voice rang with objection.

“I agree.” Cecil nodded. “Joe is a good man.”

While the two of them conversed, Louise tended the cookies and then sat on the opposite side of the fire to watch and listen.

They were still talking when she served supper.

But as soon as they’d eaten and the dishes were washed, Hazel yawned. “I’m going to take Petey to bed. I won’t be back. Good night.”

Just like that, she was gone. The evening stretched out before Louise. It was too early to go to bed. Though what else was she supposed to do?

“There’s light for a little while yet. Maybe you could read some more.”

His soft words made it impossible for her to say no. Only because she enjoyed it. The story, that is. Not the company. Not that she didn’t enjoy the company but?—

Before she could talk herself out of doing so, she got the book and continued reading the story.

Cecil tossed two more logs on the fire, then moved closer. “So I can hear better, and you don’t have to talk so loud.”

She should have objected, but it made sense. The light faded. Her voice cracked when she finally closed the book. Before she got to her feet, he leaned toward her.

“You keep saying you’re fine after your fall. Two falls. But really, are you?” His breath whispered across her cheek.

“I am.” She meant to speak firmly but could only manage a murmur.

Heat eased up her neck as he continued to study her. Finally, when she thought her lungs were permanently paralyzed, he sat back. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

“No need.” She willed her legs to move and pushed upright. “I’ll bid you good night.” The ground felt too far away, every step jarring up her spine as she crossed to her tent.

She lay on her bed. Accusations and recriminations raced through her.

How could she be so pathetic? Wanting something. Planning for it. Doing things to make it happen and then doing something entirely different. Like reading to him. Like enjoying his presence at her side. Like?—

She couldn’t continue this. She needed a plan.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, she knew what she could do to change things.

She’d ask him to bring in fresh meat for their meals.

Cecil bedded down closeto the coals where he could add more wood if wild animals came nosing around.

Except for the falls she’d taken, he’d enjoyed talking to Louise while out gathering wood. Remembering how hard his heart fisted into his chest made him rub at the bruise. Two falls. One his fault. No wonder she kept her distance.

Except when she didn’t. A smile warmed his insides. Sitting close to her as she read wrapped contentment around him. This time away from the others with nothing to do but wait gave him an opportunity to get to know her better. And he liked what he was learning.

Beneath that starched exterior was a gentle person with the capacity to enjoy life and make the best of difficult situations. He had only to recall how she’d coped with the rain and the mud, how she’d managed to make cookies in a Dutch oven, or even her tenderness with Hazel to know that.

Tomorrow, he’d like to spend time with her again. Learn more about her.

Crisscrossing his hands under his head, he smiled up at the star-speckled sky. He needed a plan that would ensure they enjoyed each other’s company. How about if they went exploring? The four of them, seeing as Louise was always concerned about Hazel. That way, maybe Louise would relax around him. They wouldn’t go to the woods where she might fall again. He didn’t want that to happen. He’d direct them to a different area.

Falling on top of her had been an accident. He’d done his best to prevent landing on her. His elbows bore the bruises to prove it.

At first, he’d been trapped in the dark depths of her eyes, like tripping into a blackened room and landing on a safe surface.

Humph. Wouldn’t Gramma scold to hear him talking like that? In her practical way, she’d probably tell him to be more concerned as to whether or not he’d embarrassed her. Or hurt her. He had to believe she wasn’t seriously injured because she insisted she wasn’t.

With determination, he shepherded his thoughts back to how he could persuade her to go exploring with him tomorrow. Hazel and Petey, too, of course.

They could look for flowers. Maybe some edible berries. Maybe wildlife. He hoped they wouldn’t encounter more skunks, although the babies had been adorable.

He fell asleep with pleasant plans in his heart and a smile on his lips and rose the next morning before dawn lightened the sky. He took care of the animals and then stirred the coals. The fire blazed, and coffee bubbled when Louise emerged from her tent.

The bruises on her face darkened overnight. Her hand looked swollen.

Seeing the direction of his gaze, she lifted that hand to forestall any questions about how she felt. Instead, she waved toward the river. “Has it gone down any?”

“Come and see.”

She walked beside him to the bank.

It was a foot lower, but he didn’t say anything, preferring to let her make her own observation.

“It’s gone down a lot. When do you think we’ll be able to cross?”

“Joe will let us know when it’s safe, but it won’t be today. Or tomorrow.”

Hazel, carrying Petey, who smelled like he needed a diaper change, joined them in time to hear his remark.

“We’re causing a delay.” She shifted Petey to one side. “Ma won’t be happy about it.”

“There’s nothing we can do except wait.” And enjoy the time.

Across the river, Marnie and Pa stood by the fire. Walt and Joe were with the livestock. The other ladies weren’t in view.

Joe led his horse toward Pa. They spoke. Pa nodded, and then Joe swung to the back of his horse, gave a wave, and rode off toward the north.

Hazel gasped. “Where’s he going?” She stared after him until he disappeared behind a grove of trees.

Why was she so concerned about him riding away? It was an ordinary thing to do. Out loud, Cecil offered a reasonable explanation. “He’s likely going to scout out the trail ahead. Or maybe he’s going to the nearest town for supplies. He could even be going hunting.”

“Oh.” The sound carried a remnant of worry.

“Speaking of hunting,” Louise said. “We could use some fresh meat.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, she made her way back to the fire and began mixing up something for breakfast.

He followed, leaving Hazel and Petey watching across the river. The coffee was ready, and he filled two cups, handing Louise one.

“Thanks.” She sipped the liquid, then set it aside to continue with breakfast.

He rolled his hot cup back and forth between his palms. Did her suggestion that they needed meat sound like she wanted him to go away? Yes, fresh meat would be good, but hunting was not what he had in mind for the day. Unless?—

He shook his head. Of course, she wouldn’t want to accompany him. Besides, there was only one horse. Try as he did, he couldn’t think of a way to refuse to go. He downed his coffee in three noisy gulps. Louise handed him a bowl of porridge and another to Hazel and Petey as they returned to the campfire.

Cecil offered thanks for the food and ate hurriedly. The sooner he found game, the sooner he could return. His horse whinnied a greeting as Cecil went to him.

“Come on, Chief. We’re going hunting.” It wasn’t like him to grumble. In fact?—

He chuckled. Hadn’t he learned to laugh at situations? And make others laugh?

A grin lingered on his face as he saddled the horse and then tied him to the wagon.

“Ladies, I’m taking orders for our meat. What’ll it be?” He pretended to pull a pencil from behind his ear and poised to write on an imaginary piece of paper.

Hazel chortled. “I’ll have pork chops.”

Louise blinked back surprise and then grinned. “I fancy a freshly butchered chicken.”

Cecil tapped his finger to his teeth. “Sounds like I’ll be visiting a farm.”

The women looked at each other and grinned at his silliness, but it was reward enough for him to feel better.

“I’ll be back when I have the order filled.” He sketched a salute, and then he and Chief rode along the riverbank. Trees to his left, water to his right. What did he want to find? A deer? That would be a lot of meat and a lot of work. The idea lacked appeal. Something smaller. Perhaps game birds. He angled toward the bushes. But he rattled the branches and rode into the center without flushing any birds into the air or sending them scurrying from their shelter.

Turning his mount, he rode onward. More trees and bushes lay ahead across verdant grassland.

A movement caught his attention, and he stopped. The grass bent and swayed in the breeze. Small songbirds fluttered from the ground. Something bigger than that had caught his eyes, and he studied the ground.

There! What he needed. A rabbit. Perfect.

He lifted his rifle, aimed, and fired. He’d hit his mark. He rode over and dressed out the critter.

Having done what he needed to, he prepared to return to the camp.

No. He’d take back more than that. He rode onward. A little later, he had two more rabbits tied to his saddle and turned back to camp.

Louise was at the fire, stirring something that smelled good. He sniffed deeply. He’d guess potato soup, thanks to the supply of vegetables Joe had brought back a week ago.

Hazel’s feet poked out from between the boxes in the wagon. Petey playing at her head.

“Brought you meat as requested.” He handed his gift to Louise.

“Thanks, but it’s not just for me.”

“I realize that. Sorry, I couldn’t find any chicken for you.”

The protest in her eyes died, and she grinned. She took the meat and hoisted it as if saluting him with it. “I’m happy with this.”

The horse was watered and left to graze with the oxen before Cecil returned to the fire.

“I thought Hazel was feeling better.” Shouldn’t she be up, helping Louise or at least visiting with her?

“I suppose she’s worried at this delay.”

“Nothing can be done about it. Like Grandfather often said, we can grumble against the detours in our lives or make the best of them.”

“Sometimes it’s easier said than done.” Her brow furrowed unevenly around the cut on her forehead. “Poor Hazel. She needs to be settled somewhere. Somewhere safe.”

“Does she have plans for when we reach the fort?” Maybe she’d corresponded with an eligible young man out there and was looking forward to a new life with him.

“She plans to start anew. Just like the rest of us.” Louise picked up a big black pot. “I need fresh water to soak the meat in.”

“I’ll get it.” He lifted the pot from her and trotted to the river. On his return, he eyed the dwindling woodpile.

She noticed his interest. “I’ve used up a great deal with all the cooking and baking.” With a flick of her hand, she indicated the mound of biscuits and another of cookies.

“Not to worry. There’s lots more where that came from.” In fact— “The two of us could bring in some this afternoon.”

Her eyes narrowed back and forth between him and the meager stack.

“Many hands make light work.” He pressed the matter. At the way her brows went up, he added, “Something my grandmother used to say.”

Her shoulders rose and fell. It could mean any number of things—agreement, disinterest, acquiescence?—

“Fine. I’ll go with you.” Another lift of her shoulders. “After all, I’m the one who used the most if it.”

“I didn’t mean you should help out of obligation.” Couldn’t she come along simply to enjoy his company?

Her gaze found and held his. She scrubbed her lips together. Was she regretting agreeing to accompany him?

“It isn’t simply obligation.” She ducked her head as the words floated up in the air and disappeared as if they had never existed.

But he’d heard them. And pleasure washed through him.

She stirred the soup. “It’s ready. Hazel?”

The other woman stirred and slipped from the wagon, bringing Petey.

Louise touched her friend’s arm. “Are you feeling all right?”

Hazel’s smile seemed half-hearted. “I was writing a letter to Petey’s grandmother Meyers.” She gave a sharp inhale of air, and her shoulders slumped. “Of course, it got me remembering many things.”

As her friend’s voice dipped, Louise gave her a sideways hug. “Of course, it did.”

“If only we could join the others.” Hazel’s bottom lip quivered.

“I’m sure it won’t be long.” Louise’s look suggested Cecil should add his agreement.

“Another day or two,” he said. “Maybe Joe is looking for another crossing.”

“I hope so.”

Hazel’s sadness dampened the eagerness with which Cecil had anticipated sharing soup and biscuits.

As soon as they’d eaten—savory soup and light biscuits that Hazel nibbled at—she excused herself. “I want to finish that letter.” She returned to the wagon, taking Petey for his nap.

Louise pressed a finger to her chin. “Lord, please don’t let her get sick again.” The words were whispered.

Knowing she was praying and wanting to distract her from worry, Cecil said, “I know she mourns her husband, but I suppose she’s also missing her mother and sisters.” He injected a note of encouragement into his voice. “Not much we can do about it but make the best of things.”

“I know.”

While she washed dishes, he brought fresh water to the camp. Then, seeing she was finished, he reminded her of the need for more wood.

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head toward the wagon. “I wonder if I should leave them alone.”

He eased to the wagon and listened. At a gentle snore, he inched closer, then tiptoed away. “They’re both sleeping.” She still hesitated. “We’ll make it fast.” Rushing to the trees and back would not accomplish what he had in mind. There’d be no lingering under a canopy of leaves, talking about everything. Maybe he’d be better off getting firewood as fast as possible and then hurrying back to spend the afternoon with her.

“I do need to help you.”

Her offer came before he could change his mind. Side by side, they went in a different direction to the trees. The underbrush here was less tangled than the other spot. Ten feet into the area, they came upon a good amount of deadfall. The only problem was that most of it needed chopping.

“I’ll go back and get the ax.” He retraced his steps. When the camp came into sight, he ground to a halt.

Louise, at his heels, gasped.