by Linda Ford
7
Gil knew the reason for the smoke though he could not say who had started the fire nor if anyone survived the diphtheria. Perhaps the last person had set the wagons to burn before he perished. Whoever had done it had the good of others in mind. The burned remains of the wagons would inform anyone who came upon them to keep their distance. They’d realize the fire had been meant to kill a disease. Though there might be those who braved the threat in order to scavenge for anything useful. Both greed and desperation drove men to do strange things.
His insides twisted with regret over the death of so many people.
He reined in to let the other wagons swing away. They would keep a goodly distance from the burning wagons both to protect them from any contamination and to avoid the smoke.
“Gil?” Judith’s voice reminded him of her question.
He shifted the reins to one palm so he could place his other over Judith’s hand where it lay on her knee. “Remember I told you about the wagon train that was ahead of us?”
“Of course.” Her gaze darted to Anna playing contentedly. “You found they had the diphtheria.” Her eyes widened as she understood and she turned her palm to his and intertwined their fingers. “Oh, Gil. How awful.” A tear clung to the lashes of each eye.
He wanted to wipe away that moisture but she held one hand and the mules required he hold their reins in his other. But her sorrow was his undoing. He could not ignore it and leaned forward to kiss each eye and capture her tears with his lips.
She leaned into him, her sadness gripping his throat.
Buck sat astride his horse waiting for Gil to follow the wagons.
Gil slipped his hand free of Judith’s grasp but kept his head angled toward her. When she lay her head on his shoulder, he pressed his cheek to her hair and kept it there as they rejoined the wagon train, keeping to the left of them. Seeing the smoke from the fire of burning wagons reminded him of their own danger. Lord God, healer and defender, protect us from that dreadful disease.
After a bit, Judith sat up. “Why does anyone venture along the trail when the risks are so great?”
He could ask her what was so important that she had begun this journey. Surely anything she needed to say or give to her fiancé’s stepbrother could have been done through the mail. But now was not the time to point that out.
“Everyone has their own reason. For some it’s need of money. Or adventure. For others, it’s greed. For some, it’s to escape a life that has grown unbearable. For others, it’s the hope of finding something that’s missing in their present life.”
She shifted so she could look at him.
He held her gaze, hoping she would find comfort and encouragement.
“Gil, what really brought you on the trail?”
“I’ve already told you my story. After Lillian’s unfaithfulness I wanted to get away. Pa and I had always known there was money to be made by trading goods into the Southwest. And I realized how much Pa needed the money. That’s about it.”
“Did you ever manage to pay off your father’s loans?”
He shook his head. “He died before I could accomplish it.”
“I know you give Stu money. Is that what compels you to go back and forth on the trail? There must be more to it than that. What else do you do with your earnings?”
Gil was a private person and had never told anyone what kept him going. But he found he had a need for her to understand him. “I support my mother.”
“I thought your mother had died. Oh, you mean your stepmother. Does Ollie help too?”
Ollie! The man had taken all the money Pa and Gil had saved up and then disappeared. Maybe once or twice after he left, Ollie had contacted his mother to say that he was doing well. But Gil knew he had never sent any money. He’d assumed that had changed after he left home. Assumed Ollie sent money on a regular basis. To his shock after Pa died, he discovered Ollie had not sent money, but he had requested and received more, leaving Pa’s business so far in debt that Gil had no choice but to sell it.
“I can’t account for what Ollie does.”
“You have three wagons, is that correct?”
“Yup.” He could see Judith thinking through the logistics of three wagons, and two people to send money to.
“Are you saving money for something special?” Her gaze searched his thoughts, turned over rocks that he’d allowed to settle into place and exposed the truth.
“You remember me telling you how I used to play with the nuts and bolts in Pa’s store?”
“Yes, didn’t you say you pretended they were animals?”
“I think someday I might like to have a little ranch and raise cows and horses.”
“And have your own dog?”
He laughed, but having her remember how much he’d wanted a puppy when he was a boy revealed another truth that he’d hidden. “Yes, I’d like a dog of my own.”
“I hope your dreams come true.”
“If they do, as my wife, you’ll be a part of them.” Another hidden truth made itself known. He’d always wanted a real home. “You and Anna.”
Judith faced straight ahead.
He wondered if realizing that their futures were forever linked would bring her regret.
She leaned against the back rest and let out a long sigh. “I like the idea of a ranch. Like Luke and Donna Grace are planning.”
Buck called for the noon stop and the chance to pursue this conversation passed as they hurried to do the chores and then he stretched out for a nap.
When they resumed the trip, Judith got into the back with Anna. “I think she might need a nap despite how much she slept yesterday.”
They had been on the trail a little while when Gil glanced back. Anna lay in the crook of Judith’s arm, two fingers in her mouth as she slept. From what he could see, he was quite certain Judith slept as well.
Gil settled in with his thoughts to keep him company. He’d grown good at limiting them to observations of his surroundings and awareness of what those around him did because it could affect the safety of the wagons, but now his mind wandered down long-forgotten paths. Did he want to give up freighting? Could he? He did a little mental arithmetic. With the money he made on this trip and what he had saved, he should have enough to take care of his stepmother and help Stu out. Perhaps even a little bit left to start a ranch.
Wouldn’t he enjoy watching Anna helping care for calves and foals? He’d make sure she had a puppy and kittens.
The wagon train stopped. With a start, Gil realized they had reached the Little Arkansas and he’d let much of the afternoon slip by unnoticed.
Anna gurgled a happy sound and she and Judith came to the back of the seat. “We’re stopped.” Judith looked about as if searching for the reason. She saw the trees along the river. “We’re at the Little Arkansas. No more buffalo chips.”
He laughed. He stopped near the edge where he could see the proceedings. Again, he could nothing but watch as Buck and the others dealt with the crossing. He stood, his hands curling and uncurling. The animals drank and the men filled the water barrels. Both men and women gathered fuel for the night. He did the same. Then the crossing began.
The mules struggled as they took the lighter wagons down the slippery, muddy banks across the narrow stream and up the other side. “They’ll have to double up the teams to get the freight wagons across,” he told Judith who had gotten down with Anna to let the child play.
“I know you would like to help.”
“Yes.” He kept his eyes on the bull whackers as the unhitched and rehitched the teams. “It’s a slow process but the only way to get across.”
Judith sat on the short dry grass, her legs folded beside her. Anna ran from one interesting object to another.
“She’s happy to be able to move about,” Gil said.
“I’m happy to see her so lively.”
“Me, too.” He had forgotten to watch the wagons until he heard shouts and curses from the bull whackers driving t
he oxen up the far slope.
Gil held his breath until the wagon reached the safety of the far shore. The teams were unhitched and driven back to take over another wagon.
The sun had dipped toward the west before all the wagons had crossed. Gil followed the churned up trail with Judith and Anna beside him. The mules struggled in the mud and the wagon slipped from side to side but they soon reached the far side, safe and sound.
The other wagons had moved on despite the lateness of the day. Judith asked why.
“The grass here is poor but three miles further down the trail there will be decent grazing for the animals and they would need it after the last two days of poor rations.”
“I’ll be glad to have enough water for a decent wash and proper fuel for coffee.”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t enjoy walking across the prairies? I’ve always found them fascinating.”
“And they might well be if one isn’t picking up buffalo chips. I never had time to look around. I was too busy making sure a snake didn’t come slithering toward me.”
He laughed and leaned closer to nudge her arm. “No snake would stand a chance against my well-armed wife.” He’d meant to be teasing but when she slowly brought her gaze to his he wondered if he should have spoken those words.
Her gaze reached into his heart, seeking answers. He didn’t know what her questions were and because of that, he couldn’t know if he had the answers, but he let her search until she seemed satisfied.
She turned to look ahead. “It sounds like you have confidence in my ability to protect myself.”
Her tone was neutral so he wondered if she liked believing that she needed no one or if she wanted to know his approval.
His answer came from the depths of his being. “I hope if you ever need me I will be there.”
She nodded. “I hope you know I will always be here for you.”
He reveled in her promise to be true and faithful. If only Lillian could have been so. But the pain of her unfaithfulness had lost its sting. He couldn’t imagine her tromping across the prairie to pick up buffalo chips like Judith had done despite her fears.
Judith slowly came round to face him. “I wish Frank had realized that.”
He understood she wanted Frank to have trusted her rather than end his life. How Gil longed to erase the pain that Frank’s death had caused, but all he could do was what he’d just promised… be there when she needed him. Even if only to kill a snake.
The wagons circled ahead of them. The teamsters led the animals to water and then grass.
Gil stopped their wagon a hundred yards from the others. While he took the mules to graze, Judith built a fire and began food preparation.
She left pots bubbling and biscuits baking as they ate. He understood her plan to have extra food prepared for the next day. Their rations had been a little slim yesterday and he appreciated her efforts and told her so.
“It’s my job.”
“I know, but you do it well without complaining.”
She chuckled. “With two older brothers I learned early in life the futility of complaining. Besides—” she gave him a steady look, “I take pride in doing my best at everything I put my hand to.” Her eyes darkened.
He knew she again thought of Frank and how the way he ended his life convinced her he hadn’t seen her as good enough.
“You certainly leave no room for complaint.” It was far from adequate but the best he could find to offer her.
The meal was over, little Anna full and content. Gil tethered the mules close to the wagon while Judith cleaned up and tended the food still cooking.
By the time he returned, the harmonica played and their traveling companions sang hymns of worship to honor the Sabbath.
He spread a blanket and he and Judith sat where they could watch and listen, Anna playing at their knees.
The music ended. Reverend Shepton rose. They could see him but not hear his words.
Gil turned to Judith. “Did you have a passage to recite?”
She looked into the distance. “I was going to say the Ninety-Six Psalm that speaks of God’s glory and the honor and praise due His name but after seeing the smoke from those wagons—”
“Life is not always pleasant but God is faithful. We have many reasons to praise Him. Our own safety. Anna’s health.”
Hearing her name, Anna turned toward him. He cupped his hand over the back of her head. “That alone is enough reason for praise.”
“You’re right. I have to stop letting my thoughts grow dark and discouraged.”
“I don’t think you do, but of course you’re troubled by the thought of what happened to those people.”
“I’m ready.” She sat up straight and fixed her gaze on him.
He did not blink nor turn away from her as she recited the Psalm, her voice growing strong and full, her eyes increasingly flooding with joy with every successive word.
A holy silence encircled them as she finished. He felt as if he breathed anointed air.
“I like the thought of the heavens rejoicing, and the fields being joyful. I will think of that every time I look at the trees, or the sky and the prairie. We should end in prayer.” He reached for her hands and spoke of his gratitude from a full heart.
Darkness had enclosed them. Anna slept by their knees.
Gil carried the baby to the wagon and settled her on the bedding. She gave a muffled sound then curled to her side and sucked her fingers. He backed out. He didn’t want to end the day but he must. The morning would come far too soon.
He helped Judith into the back “Good night,” he said to her, and then spread his bedroll under the wagon.
They had three more days before the risk of diphtheria was over.
Would all three of them avoid getting the disease? Or would one or more of them deal with death and sorrow?
Judith relaxed on the hard bed in the back of the wagon, Anna sleeping soundly beside her. The words of the Psalm and Gil’s comments and prayer filled her mind with contentment. He was a good man. He was her husband. The latter still didn’t seem real nor did she understand what it meant for her future. A ranch in the west sounded mighty nice. A home, a child and a husband who had confidence in her.
She didn’t believe he would ever give up on life. Give up on her. In return, she silently vowed, she would never be unfaithful to him.
It was all reassuring but still left her wondering how their relationship would appear in the weeks and months ahead of them. He’d kissed her cheeks, had pulled her close. She had leaned into his arms, rested her head against his shoulder. It was pleasant enough. But did he want more? Did she?
Judith fell asleep with questions unanswered and woke with them pushed to the back of her mind. She heard Gil leave his place of rest and go to the mules. She hurried to dress Anna and slipped from the wagon. The coffee pot soon hung on the hook over the fire. Oats boiled in a pot. A large pan held potatoes…enough for breakfast and for eating cold for lunch. Pinto beans simmered and salt pork sizzled.
She leaned back on her heels and watched Gil bring in the mules and harness them. A good man, she repeated in her heart.
He swept Anna into his arms as he left the mules and came to breakfast. He settled Anna at his knees and took one of the baby’s hands and reached for Judith’s hand.
She took his and ducked her head, knowing he would think she bowed for prayer when, in reality, her thoughts and questions of last night and this morning made her self-conscious before him. With a guilty start, she realized that she’d been so busy thinking of her role as Gil’s wife and what a future shared with him might look, that she’d let her reason for being on the trail fade. It was time to correct that mistake.
“Do you know of a Mr. Jones, a freighter on the Santa Fe Trail?”
“What’s his first name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Jones is a common name but the only Jones that comes to mind is a wizened up old man who traps in the area.
Don’t know that he’s ever freighted. Why do you ask?”
“My fiance’s name was Frank Jones. I’m trying to find his stepbrother. I must find him.” She rubbed at the tightness in her jaw, realized she’d gritted her teeth and forced the muscles to relax.
“And he’s a freighter?”
“That’s what Frank said.”
“Sorry I can’t help you on that matter. Perhaps when we get to Bent’s Fort someone will know of this person.”
She felt his study but kept her attention on her plate. What would he do? Say? If her search took her in a different direction than the one Gil meant to go? She’d promised to be faithful, but she’d also vowed to find the stepbrother and inform him how his actions had led to Frank’s death. Gil would simply have to accept that she would return to him once she’d finished the task she’d set before her.
“Why is it so important to find this Mr. Jones?”
“There is something I must tell him.” She continued to keep her gaze anywhere but on Gil.
“Hmm.”
His quiet tone made her forget she meant not to look at him and she jerked her gaze to him and immediately wished she hadn’t. His eyes filled with questions, and demands.
She could not break from his look as he spoke. “What happens if you don’t find him? Do you plan to travel back and forth on the trail or go to every little settlement nearby until you do?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “If I recall, you have promised me you would be faithful.”
The accusation—for she knew it to be that—hung in the air between them. She sought for a way to make him understand that she could finish her task and rejoin him if he didn’t wish to help her. “You could help me find him.”
He studied her for a long, hard moment. She wanted to look away from the challenge in his eyes but would not. He needed to understand how much this meant to her.
His eyelids flickered. “It sounds like a wild goose chase. You don’t know enough about him to have any hope of finding him.” His expression hardened. “You have a husband and child now. That changes things.”
She rose and made a lot of clatter as she gathered up the dishes to clean, stirred the beans and prepared them for travel.