by Linda Ford
“It’s going to be a cold night.” Would she understand he didn’t wish to talk about Anna’s future? He’d vowed to find the child a family. Not a single woman. The only family on the wagon train was Luke and Donna Grace. Or the preacher and his wife but they were getting on in years.
He stared at the crescent moon. They were the only options until they reached one of the little stopping posts or Fort Mann. From what he’d seen of such places, the probability of finding the sort of family he had in mind was unlikely. Perhaps there existed a family on the wagon train ahead of them, one who had known the Harrises.
He didn’t know how long he’d mused about his responsibility regarding the child until a sound drew his attention.
Was that Judith’s teeth chattering?
“Are you cold?” The temperature had dropped. Indeed, he began to shiver. “I’ve got a blanket.” He always carried one in case he had to spend the night out in the open. Often he did it without the comfort of a fire. But never before had he done it in the company of a woman and child.
He went to his horse where he had left it to graze, but saddled, should he need a quick getaway. He took out the narrow blanket and draped it around Judith’s shoulders.
“Thanks,” she said and drew it protectively about herself to shelter the baby.
He sat down again, close enough to share a hint of body heat, but not so close she would feel he was inappropriate. That’s when it hit him like a kick from an angry mule.
They were alone together for the night. What would people say? Not that it mattered to him. He could simply ride away.
But Judith’s reputation would be marred.
He shifted away.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
Cold and concerned, not only for their current state but also for their future. ‘Course their future might not be all that long if the murdering scoundrels who’d attacked the Harris wagon were still nearby. He got to his feet and studied his surroundings. Seeing nothing, hearing nothing to indicate a nearby camp, he tried to relax. Had Warren and Luke made it safely back to the wagons?
“I don’t feel right about taking your blanket.” She shifted it from her shoulders. “We can at least take turns.”
In the faint light from the moon, he looked at the blanket she held out. “I’m not cold.”
She laughed softly. “Then neither am I.”
They couldn’t see each other very well, but he didn’t have to see her to know she was being foolishly stubborn.
“You have to keep Anna warm.”
“I found a sweater in the bundle you brought and I’ve wrapped my skirts about her.”
The silent battle continued. “Look, Judith, I am not going to take the blanket while you and Anna sit exposed to the cold.”
“Fine. But then I insist you sit close enough we can share body heat.”
Again, he felt her insistence. Like that of the camp dog gnawing on a bone. He allowed himself to acknowledge how cold he had grown. “Person shouldn’t be traveling this late in the season.”
“And yet here we are.” She patted the ground beside her. “Seems if a person is foolish enough to be on the trail this time of year it would be wise to take advantage of every offer of warmth.”
“I guess I could help keep the baby warm.” He sat beside Judith, their shoulders pressed together.
“Warmer?” she asked.
“Yes, thanks.” A breeze pushed at his hat. He angled his body to provide more protection to Judith and Anna. In a few minutes, her head tipped sideways and her breathing deepened. She slept, the weight of her against his side.
He wouldn’t sleep because of the need to stay alert for any hint of intruders.
* * *
“Trapper, on your feet.”
Gil awoke to the harsh sound of his name. Something weighed him down, preventing him from bolting to his feet as was his normal response to a sudden awakening. Judith lay across his chest. Anna curled into the crook of his arm.
He groaned. This did not look good.
Judith wakened and sat up, leaving him cold and exposed.
Anna opened her eyes, stared at the crowd of strangers and puckered up her face to cry.
Gil handed Anna to Judith and got slowly to his feet, vainly using the time to come up with an explanation that would satisfy those watching him. Warren and Luke wore matching hard expressions. Buck looked less shocked. He accepted that people sometimes had to make difficult choices. Did they have to bring along Reverend Shepton and Warren’s friend, Sam Braddock? Too many witnesses. Too many opinions about the situation.
“I expect you to do right by my sister.” Warren took his role as eldest brother far too seriously.
Luke nodded. “Her honor has been compromised.”
“It was all innocent.” They’d simply crowded together for warmth and then fallen asleep. It wasn’t the least bit like Lillian in the arms of another man, her hair tousled, the buttons on her shirtwaist askew. In that case, the brothers might have cause for concern about Judith’s reputation.
Warren held up his hand. “I know what I saw.”
“You saw us trying to keep warm and keep this baby warm.”
Everyone spoke at once, demanding to know where they’d found the child, why they hadn’t come back to the wagons, and insisting Gil must marry Judith.
He waved them to silence and choosing what he considered the most important of the questions, he explained about the Harris situation.
“It all seems reasonable to me,” Buck said.
Gil shot him a look of gratitude but Warren and Luke took a step closer, their angry expressions in sharp contrast to Buck’s calmness.
Judith had her hands full trying to soothe Anna. She found half a biscuit in the sack from which they had eaten last night and offered it to the child. Anna sucked on it. Poor little thing hadn’t had a decent meal in twenty four hours or more from all indications.
She shifted Anna to one hip, liking the familiar feel of it. She’d done the same for her baby sister and for Warren’s little son. But now was not the time to be reminiscing. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before Luke and Judith’s daughter, little Elena, would be big enough to cart around like that.
With three firm steps she placed herself between Gil and her brothers. “I have no desire to get married and you can’t make me.”
Her brothers’ scowls deepened.
Buck did his best to hide a grin while Reverend Shepton cleared his throat as if he had an opinion on the matter.
Judith didn’t care to hear his opinion. Or anyone else’s for that matter. She had to make herself clear. “After Frank died I decided I would never marry.” She wouldn’t even attempt to explain how devastated and disillusioned his death had left her. How empty she felt. Marrying another man would never fill that emptiness.
Warren made a dismissive noise that seemed particularly aggravating which might be, in part, due to the fact given that she was out of sorts. Disheveled and in an awkward position. And what she wouldn’t give for a hot, strong cup of coffee. “I’m hungry,” she said, hoping to make them all realize there were more important things at stake.
Luke smiled as if trying to convince her to be reasonable. “No one is saying you have to love him. But your situation means you have to marry.”
She would have jammed her fists to her hips but her arms were holding a baby. She jiggled Anna higher. “No one needs to know we spent the night together unless one of you plans to say something.” The look she gave each man was meant to warn them she expected compliance.
Reverend Shepton shook his head, his countenance full of sad regret. “Unfortunately every man and woman on the wagon train knows the two of you were missing and whether or not we say anything, they will come to their own conclusions when we return.”
“He’s right,” Warren said in his most commanding voice. “There is only one remedy.”
“He’s right,” Luke added in a more conciliatory tone. “Gil’s a nice
guy. He’ll treat you right.”
Her brothers turned to poor Gil and fixed him with twin scowls, silently warning him he better treat their sister right or answer to them.
Judith had an urge to stamp her feet but knew it would make her look petulant. “I have no wish to be married.” Why was no one listening to her?
Anna had finished her biscuit and grown tired of the drama of the adults. She leaned her head against Judith’s shoulder and wailed. At least the sound stopped all the silly talk about marriage. Judith meant to use the situation to her advantage.
“She’s hungry. Can we go to the wagons and forget all this nonsense?”
They stopped talking and looked guilty then scrambled for horses. They’d brought an extra one for her. Gil seemed to be the only one who realized she needed a hand up. He took Anna as she mounted.
“I’m sorry about all this.”
She reached for Anna. There was no way she was going to marry the man. Or any man. Nor would she let her brothers force her to. She had something more important to do—find Frank’s brother—his stepbrother—and inform him of how his dishonesty had destroyed Frank.
But she also meant to keep Anna. The baby fit right into her arms, right into the depths of her heart.
Could she pursue her quest and still persuade Gil to let her keep the baby? At the same time, put off her brother’s demands. It was a heavy load.
As they rode toward the wagons, she considered how to accomplish her tasks.
She ignored the continued admonitions of her brothers as they covered the miles. Gil also held his peace even though the men informed him of their expectations.
By the time they returned, she had a plan.
Gil rushed over to help her down.
Once she was on her feet and the baby perched on her hip, she glanced about, saw that the others were occupied with unsaddling. Now was the time.
She caught Gil’s arm before he could lead her horse away. “I will marry you,” she murmured, not wanting anyone to overhear her. “On one condition.”
His eyebrows twitched but other than that he gave no indication of how he felt about her announcement. “I suppose you’re going to inform me of the condition.”
“You let me keep Anna.”
He considered her without any change in his expression which annoyed her no end. How could she tell what he was thinking?
“I promised Mr. Harris to see his little girl got a family.”
Was he really going to deny her this after she’d swallowed a large lump of pride in order to ask? “Wouldn’t we be a family?” She could barely get the words out. Her idea of family would be like the one she’d grown up in—a mother and father who loved and supported each other, siblings who looked out for one another. However, the opportunity for that had passed with Frank’s death. The way he died had left her unable to think of trusting her heart to another man. Frank had taught her to keep her heart locked up, safe in her own hands.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask Luke and Donna Grace if they would take her and raise her.”
Behind him, Luke and Donna Grace’s baby, Elena, cried. Donna Grace looked weary. “Elena is only two weeks old. Neither of her parents are getting much sleep. Do you really think it’s fair to burden them with another baby?”
She saw the uncertainty in Gil’s face and pressed her point. “I’m guessing little Anna will need lots of extra attention. Surely she will be fussy from missing her parents.”
Gil still looked unconvinced.
Fine. She wouldn’t beg further. She was prepared to marry a man simply so she could keep Anna but her pride—or was it self-preservation—drew the line at lowering herself to the point she became a person of little value. Frank had taught her the pain of that.
“Forget it. I can see how unappealing you find the idea.”
“I’ve been thinking. You’re right about Luke and Donna Grace and there isn’t a lot of selection on the wagon train or along the trail.”
The man spoke slowly and thoughtfully. In other circumstances she might have found that admirable, but at the moment, it simply caused her to feel as if she had vanished into the air.
He nodded. “I suppose you and I marrying would constitute a family for Anna.”
She thought it was what she wanted. Thought she was willing to marry to give Anna a home. Now the idea seemed foolish.
He adjusted his hat and looked past her into the distance. “She deserves more than a pretend family.”
“It sounds like you don’t think it’s a good idea.” She took a step away ready to abandon the idea. But then what happened to Anna? Would Gil decide to hand her off to the first ‘real’ family that came along? The thought sent sharp talons into her muscles. She wanted Anna. She cared about the child. More than that, she knew Anna would not understand being shifted about. One loss was bad enough. More was beyond horrible.
She stopped and gave Gil a hard look, silently challenging him. “Anna should not be shuffled around.”
“I agree, but you made it clear you don’t want a man in your life.”
“I lost my fiancé. The circumstances of his death make me understand I would never put myself in such a vulnerable position again.”
His eyes narrowed as if her words had struck a chord in him and made her realize how little she knew about him. “You also said you weren’t interest in marriage.”
“If we marry I would want to be a real father.”
She tried to digest this information. “Exactly what do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I, too, have my reasons for not wanting a woman in my life. I once planned to marry, but the woman turned out to be unfaithful.” He drew closer. “If you are serious about this, I have some conditions too.” He paused, but she said nothing, waiting for him to lay out his part of the bargain. “I would expect your loyalty and respect. I would not tolerate regrets in any form but especially unfaithfulness.”
They studied each other, taking measure, assessing what their proposed agreement would demand of them.
“I agree,” she said after a moment’s contemplation.
“Me, too.”
Luke’s wife, Donna Grace and her sister, Mary Mae, stood nearby, anxious and uncertain. Warren and Luke waited with arms crossed.
“They will marry,” Warren said. “I will not allow my sister’s reputation to be ruined.”
Judith almost changed her mind. Warren had no right to make her decisions.
Gil took Judith’s arm and guided her forward. “We have agreed to get married.”
Judith chuckled at her brothers’ surprise. It did her heart good to see them flounder for a response.
The reverend’s wife hustled forward. “A wedding. How lovely.” She looked at Anna. “And this is the little one you found. What a sweet baby.”
Judith told them Anna’s name while the baby sucked her two fingers and studied the circle of people.
Mrs. Shepton pressed her hands together. “You need to get ready for your wedding.”
Judith glanced down at her skirts, realizing how rumpled she was. Her hair must be a mess too. And little Anna could do with a wash and change of clothes. Her stomach rumbled.
“Could we have breakfast first? I’m starved to a shadow.”
“Of course. What are we thinking?” Mrs. Shepton turned her attention to the coals of the morning fire.
Little Polly, ten year old daughter of Warren’s friend, Sam, trotted over. “Hi, baby.”
“Her name is Anna.”
“Can I hold her?”
“Yes, you may. She can walk.” But Anna clung to Judith. “Maybe after she’s eaten.” Judith sank to the ground, Anna on her lap, and took the cup of coffee Mrs. Shepton offered. Ah. Just what she needed to steady nerves that danced like water on a hot stove. She sipped a mouthful then set the cup aside to tend Anna.
Mary Mae filled a bowl of oatmeal and handed it to Judith along with a spoon.
Anna drooled at the sight of food.
; “Poor hungry little girl,” Judith crooned as she offered a spoonful of the mush to Anna. She laughed at the way Anna’s mouth popped open and how she leaned forward after each swallow.
Gil sat across from the fire pit, consuming his breakfast. He seemed mesmerized by the flames of the fire.
Judith spared him a glance or two as she fed Anna. She’d been comfortable with him since they met when the wagon train departed Independence. He seemed steady, reliable and kind. But she’d never seen him in the role of her husband. Now she was less certain about his character. Was there some reason the woman had been unfaithful? Guilt washed through her at how easy it was to assess and judge. She knew better. Hadn’t she done the same thing to herself after Frank took his own life? And hadn’t others asked the same questions? Made the same assumptions? She would not judge the man.
Anna stopped eating and toddled toward Polly, allowing Judith to dig into her own breakfast. Her coffee had cooled and she drank it quickly then wished she had lingered over it as her brothers hovered nearby, their purpose unchanged. They wanted to get the wedding over with.
Buck had ridden along the line of heavy freight wagons, all ready to depart, probably to warn them there would be a short delay. He returned. “Folks, I’d like to get on the way before the day is gone.”
“We’ll be ready shortly,” Warren said. “Come on, Gil.” The men led Gil away to get him cleaned up, they said. He glanced over his shoulder, a look of helplessness on his face.
She grinned and waved as the women urged her to her feet. Somehow, and she was reluctant to admit it to herself, it did her heart good to see him looking a little less than in total control.
Mary Mae, who had spent many nights in the Russell wagon, found Judith’s best dress and helped her put it on then brushed Judith’s hair and fashioned into a roll about her head. Donna Grace put baby Elena to sleep in her wagon then returned with her mother’s mantilla veil. Donna Grace had donned it for her marriage to Luke.