by Emily Woods
Margie's face screwed up in confusion. “Keeping you company? He didn't come to see me?”
Shaking her head, Sarah thought she might add that their father had asked him to come, but that would make Margie think he was here for that reason alone.
“No, sister. He didn't come to see you, but he hopes you recover. We might have to stay at the fort a few more days if you don't.”
That was a real possibility. Her father had been talking to Captain Holt and the man had said they might want to stay here until Margie was completely out of danger. They could always join another caravan for the last part of their journey.
“Then George will leave with his sister,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And leave us behind.”
That was also possible, but Sarah wasn't concerned about that now.
“All that matters right now is that you get well. Rest now, and I'll come back in a little while to see if you can take more medicine. Father made up three different ones for you.”
Something like remorse seemed to cross Margie's face, but then it passed. “I don't want to stay here longer than necessary,” she said hoarsely. “I'm sorry to be such an inconvenience.”
A sharp retort rose to Sarah's tongue, but she bit it back.
“Never mind that. You are family, and your health is more important than anything else.”
Sarah was just about to leave when Margie murmured something else.
“What was that?” she asked, but Margie had fallen asleep. It had sounded a lot like her sister had said, 'Forgive me.'
7
Her father and mother came back an hour later with a few more supplies. They were pleased to hear that Margie had taken some of the medicine and some more tea. It was a good sign, her father had said.
Before he left to return to his own wagon, George had asked to speak to her father. The two men went for a short walk, George a bundle of nerves and her father with the most affable expression.
“I suppose you know what he wanted to speak to your father about, don't you?” her mother asked her as they prepared dinner.
Sarah nodded. “He told me that he would ask permission to...to court me.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.
“Oh, how lovely,” her mother exclaimed, her eyes shining. “He's such a good man. I know there was all that with his pretending to be married to his sister, but I don't blame them for that. It's unfair that the government won't give single women land.”
Sarah was glad that her parents weren't snobs, and it seemed that the trail had softened her sister in that respect as well, at least where George was concerned. She also suspected that the biggest reason Margie didn't want to befriend Hope was because the girl was so beautiful and she viewed her as a rival.
A number of feelings ran through her as she thought about the future. It was impossible to know exactly what was in store, but for the first time in forever, she had hope that it might be something brighter than she could have ever expected.
Her father and George returned a short while later, both men smiling broadly. Seeing their happy faces brought a smile to Sarah’s face. Leaving the two of them to talk, her father went to check on her sister.
“Well, your father gave me his blessing,” George murmured, his eyes never leaving her face. “Did you take care of that other thing? You said that you needed to talk to someone?”
Without really meaning to, Sarah’s eye flickered towards the wagon.
“Yes, but I haven’t really had the opportunity yet. I suppose you’ve guessed who it is I need to talk to?”
George’s eye followed hers and he nodded. “I wondered about that. Well, I’ll leave you to it. When things are settled, come see me?”
The note of longing in his voice nearly caused her to disregard her intentions.
“I will. Thank you for being patient.”
After dinner, Sarah entered the wagon again to see her sister sitting in an upright position and braiding one of her dolls’ hair.
“Good to see you up,” she said quietly. “You’re getting better quickly.”
Margie nodded, her eyes still focused on the doll. “Father said it was because George found some extra items. At first, I thought that meant he cared for me, but I guess that’s not it.”
Sarah was surprised to hear humility in her sister’s voice. Ordinarily, such a comment would have been spoken abrasively.
“How do you know?” she asked, forcing herself to remain calm.
Margie put the doll down and looked at her frankly. “Father told me that he gave George permission to court you. He said that it was easy to see how much he cares for you.” Unexpectedly, Margie’s eyes filled with tears. “I thought he would fall for me, but I guess that’s not going to happen. Anyway, I don’t deserve to be happy. I’m a terrible person. God has been punishing me for being such a horrible sister.”
Her sister’s contrite words melted any remaining bitterness in Sarah’s heart. She knelt down and took one of Margie’s hands in her own.
“I don’t think God is like that, Margie,” she said softly. “I’ve been listening to Preacher Riley’s talks the last two nights, and I’m convinced that God doesn’t punish us for our sins. Jesus already took the punishment. He paid the full price so that we can be forgiven. God forgives everything that we’ve ever done or ever will do. All we have to do is ask.”
The tears that had welled up in her sister’s eyes spilled over.
“But I’ve done so many things wrong,” she murmured. “It took getting sick for me to realize it. Spending the last two days mostly alone in the wagon gave me so much time to think. I—I have a confession to make.”
Sarah waited patiently, still holding Margie’s hand.
“I took the hummingbird and broke it,” she said miserably. “I was so jealous that George gave it to you. At first, I was just going to look at it, but then such a powerful anger rose up in me and I just snapped the beak off. I was sorry right away, but I didn’t have the courage to tell you. Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry, but I don’t expect you can forgive me.”
Margie didn’t look at her now. Her hand lifted to her cheek to wipe the tears away as she kept her head bowed.
“You told me already,” Sarah replied softly. “But you were half-asleep. I guess you don’t remember.”
“I told you?” she asked, lifting her tear-stained face and regarding her sister with bewilderment. “And you still took such good care of me? How could you? I would never have…” She couldn’t finish her sentence as she sobbed a little.
Giving her sister a little smile, Sarah squeezed Margie’s hand. “I admit that I was upset at first, but then I thought about how you must have been feeling. Over the years, you’ve discouraged me from any of the suitors who have been interested. I thought at first it was because you were jealous, but now I think there’s something else.”
Margie swallowed hard and nodded. “I confess it was partly jealousy. You get a lot of attention by doing nothing, and I have to work so hard for it. But you’re right. It wasn’t just that. I—I was afraid that if you got married, I would be at home all alone. I didn’t want you to leave me. I know I don’t always show it, but I love you. I can’t bear to think of what my life would be without you.”
Her sister’s words pierced her heart and Sarah felt tears spill over onto her own cheeks.
“We were very close when we were younger, weren’t we? But then as we got older, I felt a distance between us.”
“Because you became beautiful and I didn’t!” Margie choked out. “Oh, I hated myself for being so horrid to you, but then you didn’t reprimand me. I just—I just thought that if I could find someone first…”
“It doesn’t always work that way, does it? But you know what? I’ll pray that God brings a good man to you. Maybe he’s even on this wagon train.”
“I don’t deserve it,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “I don’t deserve anything.”
“No one does, but God is good to us. You’ll see.”
>
Margie was tired, so Sarah left her and decided to go talk to George. She felt quite confident that Margie would not stand in the way of their courtship.
However, she was surprised to see that he was standing just a few feet away from their wagon. His face was troubled, and she wondered if he’d overheard the entire conversation.
“Is everything okay?” she asked him, taking a few steps forward.
George closed his eyes. “I’m real sorry for listening in. I didn’t mean to at first, but then I couldn’t stop. I guess I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen. Well, not only that, but partly.”
He looked so remorseful that Sarah found she wasn’t upset at him for eavesdropping.
“So then you heard?” She tipped her head to one side as though trying to determine how much he’d overheard and why it should bother him. Wasn’t he happy that her sister had given in?
Nodding, he came forward and took one of her hands. Sarah was thankful that the sun was setting and thus afforded them a measure of privacy.
“The things you said, about forgiveness and all…you really believe that?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s important. I had to forgive my sister and make things right between us before I could accept your offer. I don’t want there to be anything hard in my heart.”
To her surprise, George frowned. “There are a lot of hard things in my heart,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over her fingers and sending shivers down her spine. “I have a lot of people I need to forgive, but I don’t know how.”
She knew she needed to focus on his words and not the sensations rippling through her at his touch, so she forced herself to think.
“I don’t think anyone can forgive people on their own. We need God to help us.”
George frowned harder. “But I don’t really know God. I—I guess I haven’t wanted to. My life has been so hard, and I’ve been angry about…a lot of things.”
“Do you want to talk about them?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to, but I have to. Also, there’s something I have to tell you, and you might not want me to court you after.”
Gently, she led him away from the wagon train and towards the outer wall of the fort where there was no one standing near. They continued to hold hands while he told her all about his life in the mining camp and incident with his sister. When he told her what the doctor had said, she gasped a little, but continued to hold onto him.
“So, now you know everything. I’ve been bitter about all this for a long time.”
She looked down at their joined hands. “And you believed that no woman would want you because of this?”
He nodded. “Didn’t seem too likely. At first, I thought I could just pretend, but I can’t do that to you. I don’t want to. It wouldn’t be right or fair.”
Her heart constricted for a moment as she thought of a future without children. The idea was painful, but not as painful as the thought of a future without George.
“I think the first step is for you to forgive all the people that hurt you, George. That will bring healing to your heart. And you need to believe that God has a good plan for you, one that includes a woman who will love you.”
He misunderstood her. “But not you…you can’t love me after all this deception.”
“But I do mean me, silly. Of course I can love you, or rather, I think I can. It’s a bit early to say, but never in my whole life have I felt like this for anyone.”
Shock widened his eyes. “You mean…you forgive me?”
Nodding, she smiled and took a tiny step closer. “And that doctor might have been wrong. We can ask my father later, but for now, I want you to know that I think God brought us together on this trail, and I trust that He has a good future for the two of us.”
A grin stretched across his face as he closed the distance between them. “I really hope so, Sarah Taylor, because I’ve never been this happy in my whole life.”
“I think this could be something really wonderful,” she whispered back.
Then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. When she saw his intention, she lifted her face up and received the sweetest, softest, purest kiss she could ever imagine. And then she had no doubts. She knew for sure that God had something wonderful planned for the two of them, and she couldn’t wait for the future to unfold.
Keep following the wagon train as they get closer to Oregon City. More trials and heartaches await the adventurous group as they leave behind their pasts in pursuit of their dreams in the next story.
A Reluctant Love
Love on the Oregon Trail, Book 5
1
August 1853, Oregon Trail near Raft River
Margaret Taylor tried to focus on the book in front of her, but the laughter from outside the wagon was too difficult to ignore. Not only that, but the book was of no interest to her, so she laid it aside, leaned back against the pillow, and closed her eyes.
The constant motion of the wagon jostled her so much that she wished beyond anything that she could get out and walk, but her father insisted she remain inside. It would still be several days, if not a week or more, before she was fully recovered from her bout with dysentery.
Angry tears seeped out from under her eyelids as she heard her sister laugh again at something George Lewis said. What could be so funny? The man was quiet, reticent, and almost completely humorless, charmless even. He’d never said an amusing thing in his life.
Then why did she feel so jealous?
Even though no one had mentioned it, she was sure that her parents and sister remembered how she'd set her sights on the man just two weeks ago, thinking that he might be the one to ease her loneliness and make her feel good about herself. But then she'd taken ill, and her sister had swooped in and beguiled him while she lay abed.
The tears came in earnest now, and Margie stifled a sob by turning her face into the pillow. Partly she was angry because she knew the accusations running through her mind were groundless. Sarah hadn't stolen George away from her. She'd never had him in the first place. And if he was happy to be with someone like her sister, she never stood a chance. The two of them were as opposite as could be.
Good riddance then, she thought. Why would she want such a man?
But the truth refused to be ignored. She had wanted George because he seemed like the ideal man for her, someone who would be able to offset her strong personality and give comfort to her restless mind. She wasn’t as confident as she appeared, and she needed someone kind and soft to understand her.
Her whole life long, she'd tried to garner a feeling of self-worth, grabbing attention whenever and wherever she could, but the assurance had never come. In her petty mind, she'd thought that keeping her younger sister under her thumb would assuage some of those feelings, but she'd come to realize recently that nothing was further from the truth.
Last week, she'd apologized to Sarah for her past behavior, and she'd meant it at the time, but now the old feelings of resentment had surfaced. Sarah was prettier, more likable, and had a quiet joy about her that Margie desperately wanted. Why should she be blessed with everything and Margie have nothing? God wasn't fair, she decided.
“Do you need anything?” Sarah's face appeared at the back of the wagon. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”
Margie didn't reply and kept her eyes mostly closed. She didn't want Sarah to see that she'd been crying because then she'd have to explain herself, and there was no way that she'd admit the reason for her bitter tears.
“Is she sleeping?” she heard George ask. “Best let her be. She'll get better faster that way.”
“I worry, though,” Sarah replied. “She's been sleeping so much.”
However, she left her alone, just as Margie had hoped.
That was a facade that she employed almost every time Sarah enquired after her needs. She didn't want to be indebted to Sarah. Relying on other people, her sister in particular, didn't sit well with her. She used to be independent, and
the fact that she couldn't be now was yet another bitter pill.
“You need to drink some water, dearest,” came her mother's voice. Unlike Sarah, her mother had no qualms about rousing her. When she knelt beside her and gently shook her arm, Margie knew she couldn't pretend anymore.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, pretending to come out of a deep sleep. “Can I get out soon and walk around?”
Louise Taylor shook her head. “Not for a while yet. We'll be stopping for lunch shortly, and then your sister can take you around the camp a few times.”
Margie swallowed hard. “Can't Sarah make lunch and you walk with me?” she asked petulantly, but upon seeing her mother’s frown, she changed her tone. “I mean, I don't want to bother her.”
Giving her daughter a long look, Louise shook her head a little. “It gives your sister great pleasure to look after you. It's not a bother.”
“I guess that's all that matters,” she muttered sarcastically.
Her mother had little patience for such behavior and ignored the comment but helped her into a sitting position so that she could drink some water. Margie ducked her head to avoid her mother's scrutiny, but apparently, she was not quick enough.
“Have you been crying?” she asked, her brows drawing together. “Whatever is the matter, daughter? Are you in pain? Should I call your father?”
Her father, the only doctor on the wagon train, would have come in an instant if he thought there was something wrong. Although part of her relished the attention he'd been lavishing on her since she got sick, she couldn't do that to him. Even she wasn't so selfish as to worry him when it wasn't necessary.
“No, I'm fine. I—I just...Well, I'm in a bad mood today,” she finished honestly.
Her mother poured a little water on a cloth and wiped Margie's face.
“It's terribly hot today,” she commiserated. “We're all feeling a little grumpy.”