Chapter 17

Cecil had brought a few items of clothing from the house for Dobie. All there was. They needed to be washed. As did the boy. He smelled like a cowboy who’d spent his summer on horseback and abhorred water.

But for now, Dobie needed to know he was safe.

Cecil hadn’t spoken his promise aloud to the dying mother, but he’d meant it with every breath he took. He would see that the boy had a home. A mother and father. All he had to do was convince Louise. He would do it tonight if he could.

But the evening was busy with chores, with Louise doing Dobie’s laundry. Hazel joined her to wash Petey’s items.

Cecil persuaded the boy to bathe in the river by joining him.

No matter what they did or where they went, Dobie clung to either him or Louise, making it impossible for them to have a private talk. And what Cecil had to say needed to be said with no one else around.

At bedtime, Dobie refused to go to bed until Cecil got out his bedroll. He followed Cecil as closely as his shadow. Cecil spread blankets next to his for the boy. But not until Cecil lay down, did Dobie do the same, a weary sigh whispering through the air.

When Cecil left for guard duty, the boy jerked awake.

“Go back to sleep,” Cecil whispered. “I’m going to watch the camp, but I’ll be back. I promise.” When he returned, Dobie was gone.

“He’s with me.” Louise’s murmur carried on the gentle breeze.

“Thanks.” But he wished the boy was still beside him. Cecil liked feeling he could provide protection for Dobie. But something more, bigger, something that flooded his heart with warmth accompanied the boy’s presence.

This had to be the love a man felt for a child. Even one not his own.

He woke to Dobie sitting on the ground watching him.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Dobie echoed. He leaned close. “My new mama smells nice. Like flowers.”

“You noticed that, did you?”

Dobie nodded. “My mama say a new mama would smell good.”

“Your mama was right.” At least in this case. Cecil pulled on his boots and rolled up his bedding to stow in the wagon.

Dobie did a fair-to-middling job of rolling his blankets and handing them to Cecil to put away.

“I see your new mama is making coffee.” She ground beans at the back of the middle wagon.

“She say I could have biscuits for breakfast. She make good biscuits?”

“Sure does.”

“Good.”

“Did your mama say something about that too?” The woman had done everything she could to prepare her little son for this unfortunate situation. Especially praying for someone to come along in time.

“No, but my mama made good biscuits until—” He ducked his head.

Cecil caught his chin. “Until what?” He’d seen their supplies—or rather, the lack of them. Every can had been scraped clean. There wasn’t a thing left to eat. The timing of them finding Dobie was further evidence of God’s hand.

“No more flour.” He plunked to the ground, his head hanging.

Bertie heard them talking and ambled over with both cats in his arms and the goat and dog at his heels. He sat beside Dobie, who gave him a cautious sideways glance.

“This is Fluff.” He indicated the furriest of the two cats. “This is Smoky.” He lifted Smoky to Dobie’s lap. “You pet her.”

While Dobie stroked the cat, Bertie introduced Limpy, the three-legged dog, and Alice, the goat.

Dobie gave no indication that he heard Bertie. The moment the cat began to purr beneath his hand, tears ran down the boy’s cheeks.

Cecil blinked back his own weeping to witness the silent grief that engulfed the boy.

He hadn’t heard Louise cross to them. Didn’t know she was there until she knelt by Dobie and pulled him into her arms.

At first, the boy resisted and then melted into the embrace.

Bertie sniffed. “You not be sad.”

“He’ll be sad for a little while,” Louise assured the big man. “Thanks for lending him your cat. That helps him not feel so sad.”

Bertie patted Dobie’s back. “You hold her long as you want.” He pushed to his feet and ambled toward his mother who was awake.

Dobie fisted away his tears. “Mama say I shouldn’t cry.”

Louise stroked his hair. “You can cry if you want. We understand, don’t we, Cecil?”

“We do.” He rubbed Dobie’s back, his gaze fusing with Louise. He understood far more than the boy’s need to confront his grief.

He and Louise were bound together over this boy.

All that day, he sought for a chance to speak to Louise alone. But the boy clung to him more than ever. He rode behind him again as they moved out. He followed him into the bushes when he went to relieve himself. He accompanied him out to the oxen and trailed at his heels as the men brought the oxen in. Dobie pressed to Cecil’s side when they ate. And when Cecil took his turn on watch, Dobie went to Louise.

On the third morning, Bertie called, “Dobie, you come? I take Alice and Limpy for a drink?”

Dobie had thankfully opted to stay with Louise while Cecil brought in a pair of oxen. Cecil feared if he didn’t step on the boy, one of the animals would.

At Bertie’s invitation, Dobie looked around uncertainly.

“Go ’head,” Louise urged. “We aren’t going to leave anyone behind.”

Dobie seemed to consider the idea, then trotted after Bertie.

Cecil shot Louise a smile. The boy was feeling more secure.

But by the time Cecil returned with the animals, Dobie was back at Louise’s heels. She turned with a pot of hot coffee and almost tripped on him.

Cecil rushed forward and grabbed the boy. “Dobie, you can’t follow her all the time. Or me. We might trip on you. Sit here.” He indicated a log stool. “You can see us both. We aren’t leaving you. You’re safe with us.”

Dobie rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes wide. Then he ducked his head and perched on the stool.

“Good boy. Remember, you’re safe.”

Dobie nodded, his gaze shifting from Cecil to Louise. But when Cecil headed for the stream for water, Dobie jolted to his feet and trotted after him.

Fine. It was going to take a few days for the boy to feel secure. One thing they had lots of on this trip was time. Cecil just had to be patient. But sooner or later, he was going to have that talk with Louise.

It was Sunday before that opportunity arose.

They took time for a short service. Marnie had her strength back and joined in singing with Pa for the first time. In fact…this was the first time Pa had taken up his guitar since the service of thanks they’d had after the illness was over.

Dobie stared at the guitar like a starving man seeing food. He sat on a stool between Louise and Cecil but eased to the ground and inched toward Pa.

Cecil whispered to Louise. “I wonder if he’s ever seen or heard one before.”

“I thought the same.”

Dobie stopped inches from Pa’s feet, his gaze riveted to Pa’s fingers as they strummed out the music.

Pa smiled at the boy but continued to sing one song after another. Far more than they normally sang.

Cecil glanced around the circle of people. It appeared they were all as fascinated by Dobie’s interest in the music as he was.

Pa stopped playing. “That’s all for now.” He directed his words to Dobie. “But there will be more music.”

Cecil expected Dobie to hurry back to them, but he stayed rooted to his spot as Pa opened his Bible to read the Twenty-Third Psalm. “‘The Lord is my shepherd.’”

Dobie did not move except for shudders snaking across his thin shoulders.

Pa closed the Bible and leaned forward, talking to Dobie. “Son, have you heard those words before?”

Dobie nodded. “Papa read them. He say we are sheep. He tell me I should be a good sheep.”

Cecil blinked away a tear. On one side of him, Hazel choked back a sob. On the other side, Louise sniffled. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away.

Pa continued. “God promises He will always be with us and take care of all our needs.”

Dobie nodded again. “That’s what Papa and Mama said.”

“God loves you.” Pa stroked his hand over the boy’s head.

A reverent silence filled the air, and then Pa prayed.

As they set out, Pa was well enough to walk by his oxen, and Dobie fell in step with him.

Cecil looked around for Louise. She was in the lead wagon, where she’d spent many days riding. Hazel sat beside her. Irene rode out front at Walt’s side.

Cecil could take his time. He joined Joe for a spell. After that, he rode to the crest of a nearby hill and watched the wagons pass. He then guided Chief to the lead wagon.

“Louise, would you like to walk a ways?”

She darted a glance at him. “I’m driving the oxen.” She flicked the reins to make sure he understood what she meant.

“I don’t mind doing it.” Hazel reached for the leather straps. “Go ahead.”

Louise curled her fingers tighter, but Hazel insisted.

Cecil dismounted, tied Chief to the wagon, and then reached up to help Louise to the ground. They moved aside to let the wagons pass and then followed on the grass bent over by the wheels.

All of Cecil’s rehearsed speeches disappeared into the bright sky. He cleared his throat.

She glanced at him. “Did you say something?”

No, but now was his time. “Dobie is doing well, don’t you think?”

“Poor child has had a lot of loss, but yes, he seems to be adjusting.” Her words ended on a note of mirth. “Look, he’s walking with Bertie.”

The pair followed the second wagon, the goat bouncing along at Bertie’s side.

“They both need a friend.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I can’t believe what he’s gone through. But his mother did her best to prepare him. Poor woman.”

This was his opportunity. “We promised her he’d have a good home.”

“Yes, and he shall.” She kicked up a spray of grass seeds.

“He needs a mother and a father.”

She stumbled and righted herself before he caught her. Dust whispered around her feet as she backed away.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Why did her voice crack? Was the idea of marrying him that distressing?

She continued. “You and Hazel should get married and raise the boy.”

“Me and Hazel?” Why would she suggest such a thing? Before he could answer, she trotted to Pa’s wagon and climbed aboard.

She’d promisedDobie’s mother that he’d have a family. Cecil was right. The boy needed a mother and a father. Marriage was out of the question for her. At least for now. Wouldn’t she have to give up nursing to get married? But unless she married, she wouldn’t have anyone to share Dobie’s care. The argument had gone round and round in her mind. She’d avoided the obvious solution as long as she could. Dobie deserved a mother and father. Cecil would make a wonderful pa. And Hazel was always loving and kind.

But saying the words left her insides bleeding.

It was almost time to stop for the noon break. The thought of seeing Cecil taking Hazel aside to propose seared her throat. Thankfully, no one asked her a question because she would have been unable to answer.

How was she to remain calm on the outside when a storm raged inside?

Joe called a halt.

She jumped down and began pulling out the food prepared for the meal. They never took time to build a fire at noon, but how she longed for a cup of coffee to flood her insides with strength. “Lord.” She clattered a lid to drown out her prayer. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death—’” The deep breath she sucked in did not erase the pain.

The travelers gathered around to eat. Then they lounged while the oxen ate and rested.

Louise longed to curl up and disappear into mindless sleep, but her hands twitched, her heart hammered, her thoughts raced. She lay in the shade of a wagon, trying to disguise her restlessness.

Her eyes half closed, she saw a pair of boots stop nearby. Cecil! Why wasn’t he seeking out Hazel?

“Louise?” He whispered her name.

She feigned sleep even when he whispered it again.

Not until he left did, she relax.

The afternoon passed with painful slowness. The wheels turned. The oxen plodded. Bertie chased Alice. Laughing, Dobie ran after them. Hazel rode in the back, getting Petey to nap.

Everything was peaceful and calm.

Everything except Louise’s insides that jittered like grease on a hot frying pan.

Would Cecil ask Hazel to marry him tonight?

It was the best thing for Dobie. Even though it hurt to know another would raise this dear boy.

She’d always known marriage to Cecil was the best thing for Hazel and Petey. They deserved every bit of happiness it would bring.

How long would it take for Louise to become comfortable with the fact?

By the time they stopped for the day, she was weary from her mental wranglings. All she wanted to do was eat and go to bed. Let people think she was exhausted. Or even that she was getting sick. She was past caring.

But Dobie sidled up to her, suddenly clinging again. She hugged him.

“You had fun with Uncle Bertie?”

His smile was fleeting. “He’s big.”

“He is, but he’s gentle and kind.” She rubbed Dobie’s back, longing to hold him and rock him. But she must let another woman do that for him.

They ate, though she couldn’t have said what. Dobie sat beside her, Cecil on his other side.

Why did this feel so right and good when it wasn’t?

She rose to help with the dishes, but Cecil blocked her way.

“Louise, we need to talk.” His tone informed her it was important. “Alone.”

Fine, if he needed her advice on how to approach Hazel, she’d give it. Though, from what she’d observed, they were at ease around each other.

“Go ahead,” Marnie called. “Dobie can stay with us.”

Her feet like lead, her mind frozen without a thought, Louise fell into step with Cecil as they walked along the edge of the trees. Not until they were a distance away from the others, did he stop and confront her.

“Louise, why would you suggest I marry Hazel?”

Why? Hadn’t she seen signs of their affection for each other? “Because he needs a father and a mother.”

“You and I could give him that.”

“What?” The word burst forth. “You and me? No.” She would not be responsible for stealing a man from her friend.

Cecil stepped back, his mouth drawn down. “Is the idea that distasteful to you?” He strode away so fast that alarmed birds flew up from the trees.

“Impossible but not distasteful,” she murmured, but he didn’t hear.

The air grew chilly. She hadn’t brought a shawl. Still, she lingered at the trees. She didn’t want to return and see Cecil. Nor would she try and guess if he’d be angry that she’d said raising Dobie together was impossible or relieved that his sense of duty had been dealt with and he could now return to courting Hazel.

When Irene climbed the knoll toward her, Louise stepped forward.

“Thought you might have gotten lost,” Irene said.

“You might say I got lost in my thoughts.” Louise plucked a leaf from the bush at her side and gave it more study than it required. Slowly, methodically, she shredded it. When there was nothing left but a few fragments, she tossed it aside.

Irene chuckled. “I’ve always found my thoughts a lonely place to be.”

Louise tried her best to laugh at Irene’s little joke. She would have been content to walk in silence, but Irene had other ideas.

“Cecil came back some time ago. I expected the two of you would be together.”

Did Irene think she’d been spending too much time with Cecil? Did the others? Louise measured her words before she responded.

“He had other things on his mind.”

“Huh?”

Was that a grunt of agreement or disbelief? Louise had no intention of asking. Thankfully, they were almost back to camp.

“Don’t miss what’s right before your nose.” Irene dropped the words and hurried away.

She was pointing out that Hazel and Cecil had an interest in each other. It was right in front of her nose. Skirting the fire where the others gathered, Louise hurried to her tent and lay awake listening to the others sing and visit.

She’d get used to the idea of them being Dobie’s parents. It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t see him every day, at least until they reached the fort. Until then, she could hug him whenever she wanted.

Couldn’t she?

She’d get used to knowing Hazel and Cecil were together.

Wouldn’t she?