Chapter 5

Five

C arson pressed his hand to the place where Angela’s fingers had been. Her gentle sympathy touched a tender spot deep inside that he hadn’t been aware of.

“Pa knew you wouldn’t make it back to see him before he passed.” Her words were soft, her smile sweet. “He said to all of us on more than one occasion, ‘Tell Carson I’m proud of him for being a Mountie.’ Or he’d say to be sure to tell you he understood why you couldn’t come.”

“Ma said very little about his passing. Was it hard?” He rushed on before she could answer. “I was concerned how Ma would handle it.”

Angela touched his arm again. “It was hard for her. Hard for all of us.” Her fingers dug into his flesh. “He suffered at the end.”

He covered her hand with his own, relieved when she didn’t jerk away.

Her eyes faded to the color of shallow water. Her throat worked. Her lips pulled in and puffed out several times. “I think in the end, it was a relief to let him go.” Each word shivered from her mouth. “Is that awful to say? ”

“I don’t think so.” His chest tightened. “If only I could have been there.”

Shifting so she faced him full-on, she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this on your own while we were able to comfort each other.”

He’d never acknowledged how lonely and difficult that time had been. And now those feelings flooded him. Moaning, needing the comfort of another person, he pressed his palm to her upper arm and breathed in the knowledge of their shared loss.

She stiffened but didn’t shrink away.

He stepped back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know whether to say sorry or thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her answer brought a chuckle. The buckets of water stood nearby. Forgotten.

“I’d better get those back to camp.”

Her dark-blue skirt caught around her legs as she turned to follow him. She lifted the fabric to free her feet. “Ma is awfully glad to see you. So is Bertie.”

“And you?” Why had he said that? He already knew the answer. His unkind words in the past had left an indelible stain.

“Carson, I am pleased I got a chance to let you know how what you said when I first came affected me. I’ve accepted your apology. I’m happy to start over with a clean slate between us.”

“Thanks.” Except hadn’t they already begun to write on that clean slate? He clamped down the question for fear she’d pull back. “I look forward to tomorrow and hearing more about the last four years.”

Others milled around the campfire, making it impossible to continue their conversation. But when Gabe brought out his guitar and everyone found a stool, she chose one next to him. Her smile nestled into his heart .

The Woods family had always enjoyed singing. Apparently, his parents had shared this pastime with the Millers twenty years ago before Mrs. Miller died and Gabe moved his family away.

Bertie shuffled over to sit on the ground next to Carson.

Before Bertie’s future had been changed by the fever.

Carson patted Bertie’s shoulder, and his big brother smiled up at him.

Angela touched Carson’s arm and gave him a look full of sympathy and maybe understanding.

Ma and Gabe had finished singing “Home Sweet Home,” and Carson joined the others as they raised their voices in song.

After a bit, Gabe put away his guitar, and people drifted off to their beds. Joe guided Hazel to their tent, carrying little Petey. Louise and Cecil held Dobie’s hands between them as they went toward their spot. Ruby paused before Angela, looked about ready to say something, then shook her head, and continued on.

“I’m on first watch.” Carson pushed to his feet. “Have a good night.” He hurried on his way.

Alone in the quiet as he circled the camp, he reviewed the day. It had been nice. Healing even. He chuckled. Thankfully, no one could read his mind and ask him what he meant by that. Maybe he didn’t know himself. It was good to clear away the hard feelings about his careless remarks, but more than that, her acknowledgment of how difficult it had been for him to be so far away during his father’s death was a balm to his heart.

In the distance, coyotes sang. Many found the sound unnerving, but he enjoyed it. Music from nature.

Moonlight glittered on the water like silver metal carried on ripples. Too bad he couldn’t point it out to Angela .

His quiet laugh disturbed a pair of ducks who lifted from the stream, their wings beating the air.

Gravel crunched under his boots as he continued along the bank checking on the oxen. He clumped through the lumpy ground toward the wagons. The flames had died to flickering coals. A circle of rocks and bare ground ensured the fire wouldn’t get away.

Snores came from Gabe’s wagon and Walt’s tent. Other than that, all was quiet, and Carson continued on his way. He smiled when he passed the wagon where Angela slept. Tomorrow, they’d continue catching up. His smile widened and became permanent in his anticipation for the day.

A cold wind greeted him the next morning. Heavy black clouds filled the sky. Yup. Rain was coming. He rolled his bedding and dropped it inside Gabe’s wagon to ensure it stayed dry.

Flames crackled, and smoke drifted on the breeze. Murmurs rose from the others getting up. At Angela’s approach, he smiled across the heat waves rising from the fire.

A gentle smile answered him before she turned to Ma.

They huddled close to the fire and hurriedly ate.

“Let’s get moving before the rain hits,” Joe said once his plate was empty.

Carson paused only long enough to remind Angela he wanted to talk with her again this morning before he joined the general rush to hitch the oxen and clean up the campsite. Soon the wagons rumbled after Walt and Irene leading the way. Gabe, as usual, walked by his oxen. The wind tugged at Carson’s hat.

Ruby and Angela huddled under a blanket as they drove the lumbering oxen along. Even Bertie had chosen to ride in the wagon, seeking shelter from the cold .

“Stay warm,” Carson called. Drops of icy water stung his cheeks, and he unrolled his black canvas slicker. A musty smell wafted from the folds. He shrugged into its protection as rain slashed down with a vengeance.

The girls pulled the blanket over their heads. Angela spoke to Ruby who nodded before she crawled into the back. Good for Angela. No point in them both getting soaked.

Water splashed around King’s feet as Carson rode forward. He passed Walt and Irene who hunched down under their own rainwear. He continued onward, peering through the slashing rain, checking the sky, hoping to see a break in the clouds. But all he saw was rain.

Joe joined him. “It’s not going to let up.” He wiped water from his face, then pointed south. “Got to stick to high ground.”

Together they rode back to the others to direct them in the right direction. The ground was already growing mushy, and the wheels cut deep tracks in the sod. The oxen leaned into the harnessing, taking on the increased work.

This was pure misery, especially for those driving the wagons.

But he could do something to help. Ducking his head into the rain, he rode to Angela’s wagon, dismounted, tied his horse to the side, and swung up to the seat.

“Get in the back and find something dry.”

“I can do this.”

“No need in everyone getting soaked to the skin.” He tipped his head toward the back.

“Fine. I accept.” She climbed over the seat and pressed her hand to his shoulder in passing. “Thank you.”

“You’re dripping.” Ruby sounded equal parts concerned and annoyed.

The soaking blanket was draped over the bench.

“It’s a purely miserable day.” Angela’s voice came from close behind. She stayed out of the rain but sat where she could see out the front.

Or was she purposely sitting close enough they could talk?

With Ruby also nearby, the conversation wouldn’t likely reveal as much as it had yesterday. Or—the thought made him smile—would Ruby say things Angela wouldn’t?

“Hey, Ruby.”

“Hey yourself, big brother.”

“Angela said you two attended school together.”

“That we did. Poor Angela had never gone to a school. It was quite an experience for her.”

Angela hissed. “You didn’t have to tell him that.”

“I didn’t know it was a secret.” Ruby grunted softly. Had Angela jabbed Ruby in the ribs? “You should have seen her the first day.”

“Ruby. Please.”

Another grunt. “Just for that, I’m going to tell him.”

“You might find yourself sleeping on the wet ground tonight.”

Carson laughed at the threat in Angela’s words. “Tell me about that first day.”

“Go ahead, Angela.”

Carson shifted so he could look over his shoulder, a movement that allowed cold rain to trickle down his neck. As the two girls glared at each other, he snorted a laugh, drawing their attention to him.

Angela sat up straight and clasped her hands together while Ruby nodded and smiled.

Then Angela huffed. “The teacher had to see where I fit. Ma must have told her I hadn’t attended classes, so she put me with the beginners.” The way she wrinkled her nose said how she’d felt about that. “So I grabbed Ruby’s book and read a page. Didn’t even stumble on the hard words. Miss Short quickly understood I was able to read anything she handed me.”

Ruby leaned forward, a teasing grin on her face. “Miss Short thought she’d catch Angela on her sums.”

“Hah. Father taught me sums and subtraction and multiplication at an early age. It was necessary, you see, to figure out how much each bundle of produce was worth and what was left after purchasing supplies. That was my job.” She lifted her chin. If he hadn’t been watching her, he wouldn’t have seen that it wasn’t pride in her expression. He would describe it as disappointment. Or even fear? Surely, he must be wrong on that guess.

“Why doesn’t that make you happy?”

She shook her head, twisted her clasped hands, and didn’t answer.

Perhaps it had something to do with her not attending school. He asked why she hadn’t.

Her shoulders sank. Her hands tightened until her knuckles whitened.

“Yeah, Angela. I never thought of it, but why didn’t you go to school?” Ruby asked.

“My parents didn’t want me to.” Misery as cold and unwelcome as the slashing rain drenched every word.

Ruby and Carson looked at each other. The curiosity in her gaze echoed his own.

Ruby’s voice softened. “Was it against their beliefs?”

Angela’s head rocked back and forth. But she didn’t look up, and she didn’t answer.

Carson turned his attention back to the oxen who needed encouragement to plod across the wet ground.

What reason could there be for not letting Angela attend school at least for a spell? Not that her education had been neglected. Normally, he would assume they chose to educate her themselves, but that wouldn’t explain how she’d withdrawn into a miserable lump. Something else must’ve been going on.

Would she tell him if they were alone? Would she trust him with the information?

When they could walk together again, he’d do his best to gain her confidence.

Angela wanted to pull the wet blanket over her head and disappear into the soggy depths. She’d revealed too much. Not that he heard anything the others didn’t know. She hadn’t attended school. That, in itself, was not unusual. But she hadn’t hidden her misery at the reason.

Something he must never know.

Like Pa had said when he was taking her home—her new home. There was no need for anyone to know the truth about her. This was her chance to put the past behind and start fresh. She’d clung to that promise from that day forward. And would continue to do so.

Ruby cleared her throat. “Miss Short soon changed her opinion about Ang and started singing her praises. Turns out Angela was a star student.”

Angela squared her shoulders and sat up. Like Father said over and over—there was no need to be ignorant and uninformed. A person could learn everything they needed both by living life and by reading. Although Father wasn’t highly educated, he was smart. Smarter than lots of people she’d encountered.

But time to change the topic.

“Father would never call the province where we lived Ontario. He insisted it was Upper Canada and would always be Upper Canada.” As she hoped, that triggered a talk about Canada and how the railway had united the eastern provinces with British Columbia.

The wagon tipped. A box thudded to the middle of the floor. The oxen breathed hard. Carson snapped the reins. “Pull!” he ordered.

With a slurping sound, the wagon lurched forward.

“The ground is already softening.” Angela’s words thinned. They’d dealt with mud before, and it didn’t make for pleasant travels. “What about Ma?”

She and Ruby shifted to watch the third wagon behind them. Mud splashed from the oxen’s hooves. The poor animals.

“The wagon’s stopped moving,” Ruby called.

The oxen strained, moisture blowing from their nostrils.

Carson signaled their team to stop and frowned at Gabe behind them.

Gabe cracked his whip and yelled. He pulled at the oxen. Mud splattered to his knees. Water dripped from his sodden hat. He yelled again. The oxen strained but nothing happened.

“Wait here. I’ll see if I can help.” Water splashed as Carson dropped to the ground.

He spoke to Gabe. They both urged the oxen, but the wagon did not budge.

“It looks like the wheels are sinking,” Ruby said.

It did. Were they in some kind of swamp?

But her question went unasked and unanswered as Carson trotted back to their wagon and climbed aboard. “There’s a little rise up ahead. I’ll take us there, then go back to help.”

Angela did not take her gaze off the other wagon though it blurred in the slashing rain. “Poor Ma,” she murmured, reaching for Ruby’s hand and holding tight.

The wagon stopped and rocked as Carson got down. “I’m going to take Sid and Sal back to help pull the wagon. Stay here and stay dry. ”

Ruby gestured to the canvas overhead. It sagged with the weight of the water. “If this keeps up everything will be soaked.” She shivered. “All I want is to get to the fort and sleep under a real roof.”

Angela chuckled. “I think you want more than that. What about Robert?”

“I can’t wait to see him again.” The words rang with longing.

Carson led Sid and Sal away. In the downpour, Angela could barely see him at the other wagon.

Joe rode up and peered in the back. “Are you safe?”

“Yes.” Once they explained the problem, he went to help.

Ruby moved the fallen box and sat on it. “What are we going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“The ground is so soft the wagons can’t move, but who wants to stay here in the pouring rain?”

Angela edged past her to look out the front. “I can see the other wagon. It isn’t moving.” They’d be crowded with Louise and Dobie, Hazel and Petey too. Cecil was probably driving that wagon. “Where’s Irene?”

Ruby crowded to Angela’s side. “I expect she’s on horseback riding with Walt.”

A sharp call drew them to the other end of the wagon to strain for a glimpse of what was happening. “I see them. They’re coming.” She saw the oxen, made out Gabe at one side and Carson at the other. “Aww. They’re covered with mud.”

Ruby snorted. “All they have to do is stand there, and they’ll get washed off.”

“We’ll wait this out.” Joe called to them and rode his horse on to speak to those in the other wagon. Then, with the wagons parked side by side in a row, he rode from one to the other. “Might as well get comfortable. We’ll be here a spell. ”

Carson climbed to the seat and hunkered in the shelter of his slicker.

“You look cold and miserable.” Angela wanted to invite him into the wagon, but he dripped water.

“We’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

Ruby huddled under a quilt and leaned back against a box. “I might as well sleep.”

Rain pounded overhead. Relentless. The sound echoed in Angela’s head. A constant drumming. Her breathing grew shallow.

She had to do something to stop the panic climbing up her throat.