Chapter 13

Thirteen

C arson escorted Angela to her wagon.

Ruby called from inside. “Go ahead. Kiss her good night. I don’t mind though I miss Robert terribly.” His sister’s voice cracked.

Instead of a kiss, he whispered, “That went well, don’t you think?”

“It seemed to.”

“Then why that troubled little frown on your forehead?” He traced the lines.

She smiled. “It’s a lot to take in. Things will get easier.”

He leaned close to whisper. “I hope you grow more accepting of the idea. I don’t like to think you might have regrets.”

“Oh no. Not at all. I shall fall asleep dreaming of building our house and raising our chickens.”

A soft laugh broke from his lips. “Tomorrow we’ll discuss those plans.” He gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

He unrolled his bedding nearby, close enough to be aware of anything threatening the camp but not so close he would be tempted to whisper to Angela because there were so many things he wanted to say, to ask, to learn. Folding his arms under his head, he smiled up at the starry sky. There was time. Not only the rest of the journey but also the rest of their lives.

Restlessness seized his limbs. He kicked off the blanket and sat up to stare at the wagons’ dark shapes clustered together. Not even enough wagons to truly form a circle, only a wide triangle. He bent over his knees, trying to make sense of this sudden restlessness. His breath huffed out. It was partly anticipation of what the future held and partly the swirling thoughts of a hundred questions. Where would she want the house? When would they marry? What sort of house would she like? Would she want to live there during the winter?

With another huff, he pushed aside the worries. They were all things he and his partner could sort out on the journey. Contented, he lay down, pulled the blanket to his chin, and fell asleep.

The rattle of a metal pot wakened him. Had he really slept through someone moving around building the fire? He hadn’t even heard anyone taking over on guard duty. And he hadn’t taken his turn. He leapt to his feet and hurried over to where Joe stood by the water.

“No one woke me to take watch.” His tone might suggest annoyance or surprise. He felt both.

“I tried. You were sleeping like a rock. So I left you.”

“I never sleep like that.” As a Mountie, it was unacceptable.

“You forgot that last night.” Joe unfolded his arms. “Guess you needed the sleep.” He strode away before Carson could protest. His words, “Next time, wake me,” drifted across the stream and disappeared into nothing. That wouldn’t happen again. He’d make sure of it.

His boots thudded on the ground as he strode to the camp. Angela smiled at him, and he forgot about missing his turn keeping watch.

She filled a cup with steaming coffee and handed it to him.

The hot liquid stung his tongue when he took a swallow. “This is the way to start a morning.” He saw the question in her eyes as if asking did he mean the cup of coffee or her giving it to him. Strange that he didn’t have the answer, though, if pressed, he’d say both.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked.

He stopped his hand halfway to his mouth. “Why? Did you hear something?”

“Should I have?” The uncertainty in her face seemed genuine.

“I didn’t waken for my spell at guard duty. First time that’s ever happened.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe it.” With a furtive glance around the campsite, he whispered. “Don’t tell anyone though Joe knows.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” She pressed a fingertip to her lips. “But I must ask. Why did you sleep so soundly?”

“I must be because my head was full of plans.” He held her gaze. “For our partnership.”

She gave him a startled look, then shifted the coffeepot to her other hand. It must be getting heavy. A glance around showed the others busy preparing breakfast. Ma stirred a pot of something. Hazel fed Petey. Louise checked a pot of beans.

“I’ll tell you all about it later.” He drained the cup before he went to help the others with the oxen.

As they gathered for breakfast later, he sat close to Angela, smiling at her shy glances in his direction. Several times, they shared a private grin at something Dobie or Bertie said or the way Petey reached for another biscuit .

But there was no lingering to visit. He handed his cup and plate to Louise, then brought Sid and Sal, the pair of oxen that pulled Angela’s wagon, to be hitched. He tied his horse to the side and waited. The normal routine was for her to drive the wagon in the morning and Ruby to do so in the afternoon. He planned to ride with her. Yesterday, he’d learned there was lots of time to talk as the wagon bounced and swayed along.

She showed no surprise when he helped her climb up and sat beside her.

Ruby looked up at them and laughed. “I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t worry about me. I don’t mind walking.”

His only answer was a quirk of his eyebrows. She was teasing him, but he didn’t mind.

The reins cracked. The oxen leaned into their harness. The wagon groaned into action with much ringing of pots and pans. He waited for the noise to settle down before he spoke.

“I thought of so many things last night. Plans and decisions to be made.”

“There isn’t much we can do until we get to the fort.”

“We can plan. For instance, what sort of view would you prefer—wide, rolling hills or sheltering trees or?—”

“Wide, rolling hills. At least on one side.” She lifted her face to the sky. Her mouth rose in pleasure. “I like the idea of being able to see for miles.” The smile retreated. “And of having a good garden spot.”

“That would be my preference too though many settlers choose to be surrounded by trees.”

Did she shiver at his words?

“Don’t you like trees?”

“Huh?” The word exploded from her. “I like trees just fine.” Something flickered through her eyes. “One needs trees to provide leaves to throw.”

“Like yesterday?” He grinned at her. “I know so little about you, so if you don’t like trees or anything else, you have to tell me.”

“I will. And you must do the same.”

“I want to know more.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She adjusted the reins, even though he wondered if they needed it.

“All I know is your mother passed when you were young, you didn’t attend school, and as far as I can tell, you lived alone with your father.”

“That’s about all there is.” The brittleness in her tone warned him off.

He didn’t intend to heed it. “You know so much about me. I’m sure my sisters told you all sorts of stories.” He almost managed a chuckle.

Her shoulders rose and fell, but she didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have the patience of Job, but he had enough to remain silent, hoping she’d say more.

“You know enough to ask me to be your partner.” Her voice was low. “That means you know enough to trust me even without knowing every detail about my earlier life.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Another moment of expectant silence that he broke. “Are you hiding something?”

Air whooshed from her chest with such force she bent forward. She sucked in a deep breath, sat up, and gave him a look so full of…what? He couldn’t decide.

“Maybe I don’t care to recall my past.” Another deep breath and her expression changed, softened, relaxed. “Your pa told me I should forget the past, enjoy the present, and plan for the future.”

“Well, if that’s how Pa felt…” Pa must have known how her life had been. For certain, he’d known her father. Maybe that was enough. “Can I say just one more thing before I’ll leave it be? ”

“Could I stop you?” She must have seen that he didn’t understand. “From asking.”

“Maybe.”

“Pshaw. I doubt it.”

He took that as permission to go ahead. “I have to say that the little I know about your life before you joined us makes me think you were lonely.” Only because he was watching her so carefully, did he notice a muscle in her cheek twitch, and then laughter pealed from her.

“Not at all. I always had a dog, a dozen cats more or less, fifty chickens, and my chores. Not to mention fishing trips with Father.”

But what about the things she hadn’t mentioned? No trips to town. No visitors. Not even church. It still sounded lonely. “No friends?”

She stared straight ahead. She seemed to not even breathe. Her lack of response was answer enough. He’d guess the poor girl had been friendless and isolated.

He would have squeezed her arm or patted her back or—but she looked as if a touch would shatter her. Finally, she sucked in a breath and began to speak.

“I know you had lots of friends growing up beyond your siblings.”

“I had a few.” Would talking about it make her feel more isolated? It would at least let her into his world. “Of course, there were those who wouldn’t have anything to do with me because of Bertie. But there were others who proved real and loyal.” An errant idea brushed his thoughts. One he’d had before and dismissed because there was no answer. Was the rejection of others solely because of Bertie or was it partly because of him? Again, he pushed it aside. “My best friend was Billy Becker. He’d come to the farm to visit, and we’d explore and play cops and robbers. Our parents gave us permission to canoe down the river by ourselves when we were twelve. We camped on our own for a week.”

Angela watched him as he talked, as if drinking in his joy at that friendship. She might deny it if he pointed it out, but it proved her loneliness, especially when she swallowed hard and sighed.

“You were fortunate.”

“I was, though it didn’t always feel that way.”

“You mean because of Bertie.”

“Yes, but don’t get me wrong. I love my big brother and would never choose someone over him.” Again, that niggling doubt surfaced. Maybe it wasn’t always because of Bertie. Maybe some of the reasons others had rejected him, especially girls, was because of something wrong with him. That was one reassuring thing about a partnership—it wasn’t based on feelings.

Hearing of Carson’s pal sent hollowness into Angela’s soul. How she’d longed for a friend especially after Mama died. But it had proved impossible. Not until she moved away after Father’s death and discarded her past had she known companions and acceptance. And she didn’t intend to do anything to jeopardize that.

Carson continued talking about his adventures with Billy.

She laughed when he told about them trying to catch a crow. “His grandmother had told him she’d had a pet crow.” His grin abounded with amusement. “I think the bird was teasing us. He likely went home and bragged about how he made two boys dash after him only to fly away and land again almost within reach. I don’t know who would have given up first—bird or boys—if Ma hadn’t called us for supper. ”

Her past forgotten, she asked what happened to Billy. “I don’t recall any Billy Becker.”

“It was a sad day for me when his father decided the family would move. We promised to write, but after half a dozen scattered letters, we stopped.”

“That’s too bad.” To have a friend and lose him must be worse than not ever having one. “Were there others after that?”

“Yeah. But none like Billy until I met Robert.”

“I’m glad we’re going to be so close.”

“Me too.” For a mile or more, they settled into contemplative silence. “I meant to ask you about house plans.”

“What about them?”

“Well, we have nothing much to do but decide what kind of house we’d like.”

“True.” She’d let him give his preferences first.

“What would your dream be?”

Dream? Why had he used that word? Her dreams didn’t matter. This was a partnership. She had to be practical. “Warm and dry.”

He laughed as she’d hoped he would. “We could live in a ten-by-ten building and have that.”

“True.” Was that what he was suggesting? Did he expect them to be more than partners? To be husband and wife? Would it cause her to reconsider her agreement?

Because in her dream…

No dreams allowed.

Carson continued talking, and she brought her attention back to his words.

“I had planned a house big enough for Ma and the girls. I thought of four bedrooms upstairs and one on the main floor for when Ma couldn’t get around so well anymore.” He shook his head. “I sure got that wrong. And I’m happy for all of them. ”

Was he happy for himself? She didn’t ask because she feared his answer would reveal disappointment at settling for a marriage of convenience.

“I don’t think we need that big a house.” He slanted a look at her. “At least not yet.”

Heat stung her cheeks at what he meant. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to require a response because her throat had closed off.

“We can make new plans.” He seemed satisfied with that possibility.

“Sounds good.” And it did. She’d like to be part of something new and promising.

Huh. Promising what?

She couldn’t answer.

The trail led up a hill, and the oxen stopped in protest. She flicked the reins. “Sid, Sal, pull.” They did. They were the most patient and enduring of animals.

“Do you prefer a one-story or a two-story house?”

Carson’s question brought her back to the discussion.

“I can’t say as I’ve given it much thought.”

“No time like the present.” He seemed set on having this conversation.

“I honestly don’t know. There are too many unknowns.”

“Such as?”

No reason to voice the one uppermost in her mind—that he might change his mind by the time they reached the fort. “When does it have to be complete?” After all, there were rules about building a house on a homestead and living in it. “How much should we—” Mostly him. “Spend? And what materials are available? Will we build it ourselves or hire a carpenter?” So many things to consider. More than she could voice at the moment.

His hands hung down over his knees. “My original plan was to spend the winter in Fort Taylor with Ma and the girls. Though now they are married or soon to be, I expect they will find their own places. I’d like to give the house in town to Ma and Gabe and Bertie.” His chuckle was brief. “And Bertie’s pets of course.” Sitting up, he shifted to consider her. “I think the best I could do for all involved is build a solid, small house on the homestead. Something I could live in while the bigger house is constructed. It would be possible to live in it for the winter.”

She nodded several times, though in understanding rather than agreement. He spoke in a singular way. There was no “we.”

“Angela?”

“Sid, Sal, pull.” They were doing their best, but it gave her time to still her expression to show nothing. She turned toward him. “What?” Congratulations. She revealed none of her disappointment.

“You need to let me know what you want. If you’re agreeable, we could marry shortly after we reach the fort and build that little house as I mentioned. Or you could spend the winter in town. But I can’t read your mind.”

Which was a mercy for them both. But he was now including her. And waiting for her answer. She thought of Ma and the other girls getting married. Although any of them would have welcomed her to live with them, she didn’t want to be a spare spoke in their wheel of love. Nor did she want to live alone. “If we are truly to be partners, shouldn’t I live there as well?”

A grin lit his face. “Yes, you should.”

Which meant marrying him very soon. Unless he changed his mind. She pressed her lips together. She would not entertain that possibility.

“So.”

The sharp sound of him slapping his knees made her jump .

“A small abode for now? Something we can put up in a hurry?”

“Yes.” Her muscles relaxed over including her now.

“How big do you think we should make it?”

The morning passed as they discussed differing sizes and layouts. By noon, they had agreed on a simple two-room structure. They hadn’t come to a conclusion on size. She’d suggested they could use the building for other purposes when they no longer needed it and should consider that.

“What do you foresee in it after we move out?”

If only she could tell him about Father and how he’d welcomed her and Mama. She’d love to do something like that. Provide shelter for someone in need. But she’d keep that idea to herself.

“I can think of a number of things. Storeroom. Chicken coop. A guesthouse.” She threw the last in on a breath. He could take notice of it or think she was being facetious.

“They are all good ideas. I agree we should keep those in mind.” He squeezed her hands. “We’re making good partners, aren’t we?”

She turned her palm to his. “Yes, we are.” They would continue to be such without the need for him to know the secret of her past.