Chapter 9

Louise was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t there, a spectator to Hazel and Cecil’s interest in each other.

Hazel’s gasp drew Louise’s attention. Her heart crashed against her ribs as Petey stumbled. He was going to land face-first in the fire, and she was too far away to catch him.

Cecil scooped up the baby. “You don’t want to be going that direction.”

Hazel rushed forward to hold Petey. With her son still in Cecil’s arms, the three of them shared a group hug.

The perfect picture of a complete family. This was exactly what Louise wanted for her friends. Even though a short time ago, she’d been sitting next to Cecil enjoying his attention. Of course, he was concerned she might have injured herself. He wouldn’t want an invalid on his hands. Thankfully, Hazel had improved, so he wasn’t looking at having two incapacitated women on his hands.

Louise turned her back to the three of them. Their presence and murmurs crowded her, and she went to the bank overlooking the river. The rumble of the water eased away her troubled thoughts.

Bertie wandered along on the far side. Seeing her, he waved and shouted. The noisy river drowned out his words.

She waved back. If only they could join the others. She could spend time with one of the other women, or even Bertie. Life would settle back into the calm routine of the past weeks.

A gurgle of laughter escaped.

“What amuses you?”

She hadn’t heard Cecil approach, and his question choked off her amusement. If she didn’t answer, would he forget he’d asked?

“Care to share?” He moved closer, his body blocking the cool breeze rushing down the river valley. He wasn’t going to forget.

How hard would it be to ignore him and his questions? And his caring? Nigh unto impossible, she discovered.

“I was thinking how nice it would be to cross the river and continue travel with the others. You know? Where things are peaceful and calm.” Would he catch that teasing note?

A log floated by. There was less debris than yesterday. Were they both going to stare silently at the water?

His roar of laughter rumbled through her. “Is that how you see it? The alkali flats, the wild animals, the young man stealing from us, the lady intruder, the?—”

A grin filled her heart. “I might not be remembering it exactly as it was.”

“And don’t forget the rogues who meant to do us harm.” His words broke as if catching on a tight throat.

“All right. All right.” She lifted her hands to admit defeat. “There might have been some less peaceful moments.”

“There definitely were.”

His dark eyes held her in their grasp. Searching. For what? She had nothing to hide.

She also had nothing to share. And turned her attention back to the turbulent waters.

“You know one of the best things about this journey?” His question jarred her back to the conversation.

“Seeing your pa remarry? Or your brother and Irene marry?” Seems those must be high on his what’s-good list.

“Let’s sit.”

The breeze hit her again as he lowered himself to the ground. Missing the warmth and protection he’d provided, she sat beside him and ignored the twinge of guilt at taking him away from Hazel. Besides, she didn’t take him. He’d come of his own free will.

“That’s the best part for them. But for me—” He picked up a twig and tossed it into the water. “It’s been having church outdoors. My grandparents raised me to believe, to go to church, and to pray.”

Another twig rose in the air, then dropped to the river.

“I’m growing closer to God on this journey. Especially when I see His power in the storms, His love in rescuing us, and His faithfulness in answering prayer.”

The rumble of his voice echoed the sound of the waters. And had the same power to reverberate in her chest.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a preacher.”

“You might make a good preacher.” She meant to be teasing but fell short.

“Nope. What I am is a blacksmith. Sometimes a wheelwright. I like making things with my hands. I like pounding and chopping. Making a hot fire for the forge.” He grinned. “It was one of my first tasks when I went to work.” He pumped his arms up and down to indicate what he’d done.

“I’m guessing the young ladies hovered at the street, watching you work and going ooh and ahh.” Again, the teasing didn’t quite make itself known.

“Well, I don’t mean to brag, but often, young ladies would stop across the street, away from the smoke and heat, and watch me. Guess I put on a bit of a show for them. At least according to Blackie.” He nudged her with his elbow, and they grinned at each other.

“I can imagine.” She batted her eyes in mock adoration.

A shadow crossed his expression.

“There was someone special?”

“Not really.” The grass at his feet held his interest. He ran a finger up blade after blade. “Though I might have fooled myself into thinking so.”

“What was her name?”

“Myra. Pretty as a postcard she was. Blonde curls caught back in a pink bow. Blue eyes that clearly liked what she saw when she glanced my way.” He plucked a handful of grass and tossed it toward the water. It fell short.

“What happened to her?” Although he didn’t say, it obviously hadn’t turned out the way he hoped.

“When she passed on the street, I’d dropped my apron and tell Blackie I had something important to do. I’d saunter over and offer to escort her home. We did that for weeks.” His fingers grew still. His gaze sought something in the distance.

“Then she stopped coming.” A dismissive shrug. “I managed to make it to her side after church one Sunday and ask if there was something wrong. She said she couldn’t see me again. She had bigger things in mind. I was lots of fun but—” Another shrug that did nothing to convince her Myra’s rejection hadn’t hurt.

“She walked away with a man who had recently moved to town—a clerk in the lawyer’s office.” Air huffed from him. He came round to look at Louise, but his smile did not reach his eyes. “I was destated.” He waited. “You know. Like I’d told Gramma, meaning?—”

“Devastated. I remember. Oh, Cecil. That’s awful. No doubt she’d regretted her choice.”

“I don’t know. They married and moved away.”

“Well, she rejected a good thing.”

“She what?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. She wasn’t going to back down now. “You heard me. She had a chance to know the love of a good, noble, kind man. And she chose otherwise.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. Tried again. This time, he succeeded in jerking out his words. “That’s how you see me?”

“No. That’s what you are.”

The moment froze between them. Even the rumble of the water faded into a distant whisper.

“Louise, that might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Heat burned her cheeks at her boldness. And yet she didn’t regret it. “If that’s true, it’s sad, but I think it’s more likely you simply didn’t hear.”

“Yes, well, having Gramma say things like that is different. She was my grandmother. She had to believe that.”

Laughter gurgled up Louise’s throat at his reasoning.

His grin was full of pleasure.

“Dinner is ready.” Hazel’s call hit Louise like a blow. She scrambled to her feet. What was she doing, sitting with Cecil? What must Hazel think? Louise was not being a good friend. At least not to Hazel.

A smile escaped as she hurried back to the camp.

Maybe she’d proven herself to be a good friend to Cecil.

“I’m sorry. I should have taken care of this.” Her apology to Hazel rushed out.

“Really?” Hazel shook her head. “I think I can manage heating up some leftover stew.”

“Of course.” That wasn’t what bothered Louise. She meant to honor the romance between Hazel and Cecil. Not steal his attention for herself. She’d do better. Starting immediately.

She stood back while Cecil said grace. Continued to hover in the background when Hazel dished up food for herself and Petey. She stepped aside for Cecil to help himself. Instead, he nodded toward her empty plate.

“You’re eating?” he asked.

He was going to wait until she got food. In that case…

She hurried toward the pot and, with a clang of metal against metal, put two scoops on her plate and stepped back. The log across the fire was the farthest from Hazel. Louise sat there, leaving spots on either side of her friend.

The stew smelled good. Saliva flooded her mouth. She bent forward, her attention totally on the food before her. If Cecil hovered nearby, she wasn’t paying him any mind. Let him sit where he wanted. But when he pulled a log to her side, her throat closed off, and she couldn’t swallow.

Why didn’t he sit beside Hazel? Feed Petey as he’d done before? Talk to them. Play games with the little one. Did he want to continue the conversation they’d had by the river? Except what was there left to say? That young lady—Myra—chose someone else based on money and position. Louise had voiced her opinion on the matter. End of discussion.

“Hazel, how are you feeling?” Louise scraped up the last of her meal. When had she eaten it? It wasn’t like her to be so…so…distracted.

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll clean up.” Louise was on her feet and reaching for the empty plates.

Cecil didn’t release his.

Steeling herself to be calm and professional—after all, she had learned how to be so in her training—she met his gaze. “I’ll take your dish.”

“Thanks.” But still, he held on.

What did he want? Why were his eyes full of—she gulped. It wasn’t interest she saw. It was only kindness. After all, like she’d said, he was a kind man.

Exactly what Hazel and Petey needed.

With a little jerk, she got control of the plate and hurried to the washbasin. She submerged her trembling fingers and inhaled the smoke of the fire. The warm water eased the pain in her hand.

Washing a few things didn’t take long, but she lingered at the basin, waiting for Hazel and Cecil to do something.

She’d give them a little encouragement. “Hazel, why don’t you and Cecil take Petey for a walk? I think he’d enjoy it.”

Hearing his name, Petey wailed.

“He’s ready for a nap.” Hazel picked up her little son. “I’ll rest with him.” She climbed into the wagon and pulled the canvas tight to provide privacy.

Louise’s fingers were wrinkling. There was no more reason to keep them in the cooling water. She emptied the basin and dried her hands. All the while, Cecil watched her.

She hung the towel over a branch to dry.

“Let’s go back to the river.”

His suggestion sent an unfamiliar jolt through her. She wasn’t going to admit it was eagerness to spend more time with him.

She hadn’t learned to keep her feelings under control, only to forget now.

Cecil jammedhis hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunching. Why did Louise hesitate to resume what he’d thought was a very pleasant visit? He liked how she’d teased him. Even more, he liked how she’d described him. Good. Noble. Kind. He’d never thought of himself in those terms. Not that he was needy and wanted to hear her say similar things. Well, maybe it would be nice.

“Why not go back and get some of that wood?”

It sounded more like work than what he’d had in mind. With the toe of his boot, he helped a beetle over a rock. “Might it be a little early for you to be wandering about in the woods?”

Her eyebrows rose. One crooked to the side because of the cut on her forehead. Her cheek appeared slightly swollen.

“You know. After falling. Maybe we should stay close to camp.”

She touched her cheek. She refused to meet his look. “I don’t think a few scrapes are putting me in any danger.”

Fine. If that’s what she wanted to do, he’d make the best of it. “Very well. Let’s go.”

They fell in side by side as they returned to where they’d been earlier in the day. The sun had moved past its zenith. Warm sunlight dribbled through the branches and reflected off the leaves.

“Do you smell that?” he asked.

She sniffed. “What?”

“The air is sweet.”

“I smell moss and something sharp like mint.”

“Yeah?” His tone conveyed his regret at such a silly comment. “It was kind of a dumb thing to say.”

Another sniff. “It is sort of sweet.” She tipped her head up at him, and the sweetness reflected in her eyes.

It was kind of nice to have her agree with him.

They stepped over several fallen logs. Every time he held her hand. “I’m not letting you take another tumble.”

Each time, she slipped her hand away and put several inches between them.

Why was she being so distant? Had he done something to offend her? But he could think of nothing. Maybe she was simply shy around him.

A flash of blue gave him an idea. “I see some flowers.” He drew her in that direction. They stepped between two towering spruce trees into a grassy clearing dotted with bluish-purple harebells on long, slender stems. Interspersed were black-eyed Susans with their skirts of yellow.

Louise knelt in the grass. “It’s beautiful.” She trailed her fingertip along the stem of the nearest harebell, then sat back on her heels.

He squatted at her side, as interested in her reaction as she was in the flowers.

“I don’t know if you noticed the women embroidering quilt squares.”

“I have.” Though he’d paid little attention.

“We are making a record of our travels with them. I can’t think of anything prettier than one showing this field of flowers.”

He couldn’t think of anything that outshone the picture before him, and he didn’t mean the flowers.

“Look.” She hurried to her feet and trotted to a half-rotted stump from which grew three tiny spruce trees. She perched on the fallen log beside the stump that nurtured the seedlings. “Isn’t life amazing?”

The log shifted slightly, then settled into place as he sat beside her.

“It’s certainly full of surprises. Some good. Others not.”

Her gaze left the tiny trees and came in his direction. “Tell me some good ones.”

His insides danced to happy music as he thought how to answer. “Well, Pa and Marnie getting married is one. So is watching Bertie with his pets.”

She nodded, her gaze never leaving him.

“Riding across the country every day and seeing something new is good.”

“Joe taking that young man to his people too.”

Cecil patted his stomach. “Having sufficient food.”

She grinned. “We’ve not had to go hungry.” Her eyes got a faraway look in them. “What about before we started this journey?”

Leaning back until he found security against a scratchy tree trunk, he stretched out his legs. Just how should he answer?

“I liked working as a blacksmith, but one of my best memories is when I was able to shoe a horse that everyone said was mean and warned would bite me.”

Eyes wide with shock, she studied him. “Did you? Get bitten?”

“No. And you know what my secret was?”

“Tell me.”

He leaned close to whisper. “I had a pocket full of carrots. Every time he grew restless, I gave him a carrot.”

One surprised blink and then she laughed, the sound rippling across the clearing. “That was smart of you.”

“Thanks, but I can’t take credit for it. Grandpa did it with a cantankerous horse he had.”

Her attention shifted to the blue flowers at her feet. “I wish I’d had my ma longer. I feel like she could have taught me so many things.”

Her hand rested on the log between them, and he covered it with his. When she made no effort to pull away, he smiled both inside and out. “Tell me what you remember about your mother.”

“Mostly, I remember how patient she was. Even when Eddie started getting defiant, she never got cross. She’d correct him with a gentle tone. One thing she often said to him was she’d raised him to be a good person and knew he would be. And he is.”

“Was he trouble for you when you had to take care of him?” A rebellious boy of—what had she said?—twelve would be a handful for a young girl forced to mother him.

The grass at her boot bent over as she shuffled her feet. “He was heartbroken at Ma’s death. But he promised me he’d help me. I never had any trouble with him.”

“That’s good.”

“Ma might have said something to him. She did to me.”

Cecil waited, wondering if she’d explain. He’d sure like to hear. With a start, he admitted he wanted to know everything about her.

She turned, her dark eyes steady.

He didn’t shift away or even blink.

“Ma taught me about God. She taught me to pray, to read my Bible, and to memorize Scriptures. I remember standing at the ironing board as she mended and learning verses at her prompting. John chapter one. Romans chapter twelve…”

When her voice caught, and she didn’t go on, he increased the pressure of his hand on hers and waited.

She continued, her voice strong. “She knew she was dying and called me to her. Asked me for two promises. One, to take care of my brothers until they were old enough to be on their own. Two, to never forget how much God loved me. She gave me two Bible verses she hoped would guide me through the days ahead. Joshua chapter one, verse nine. ‘Have I not commanded thee? Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.’ And Philippians four, verse thirteen. ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’”

Another pause.

He had no intention of rushing her.

“I have clung to my faith through thick and thin. I might falter, but God never does. He is always ready to guide and forgive me. Because of that, I can face the future no matter what it holds.”

The way she ducked her head and kept it down made him think she was finished.

“Louise, your mother would be so proud of you.”

Her head jerked up. Her eyes were wide as saucers. “Really? You think so?”

A soft, admiring chuckle eased from his lips. “I’m certain of it.”

The darkness in her eyes faded, replaced by a gleam. “You aren’t just saying that because I said kind words about you?”

“Did you mean them?”

“Every single one.”

“As do I.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The silence lengthened, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was honest.

From the trees behind him rose the sound of birds squabbling.

Louise turned in that direction. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Sounds like it.”

“We aren’t getting much wood gathered.” She pushed to her feet.

Holding back a disappointed sigh, he led the way to the piles they’d gathered earlier.

“Cecil. Stop.” Her sharp words halted him in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?”