by Linda Ford
Gil waited a moment as if he expected her to inform him that she was prepared to set aside her plans.
She couldn’t. Until Frank’s brother understood what his actions had done, Judith alone bore the silent guilt of Frank’s death. How could she hope to live a happy, peaceful life with that burden?
It was time to get on the trail. She considered riding in the back, but decided against it. Gil might see it as evidence of a warring conscience when she wanted only for him to realize that she had not, and would not, change her mind. Somehow she must make him understand why it mattered. So she sat on the bench beside him, waved to her friends then settled in for another day of travel.
For some time, neither of them spoke. Anna’s baby chatter filled the silence.
She sought for a way to explain why she must find Frank’s stepbrother. Did her motives sound vengeful? Misguided? She didn’t know. She only knew what she felt. Before she could adequately sort out her thoughts, Gil spoke.
“Are you regretting our agreement? I thought we were doing all right together.”
She understood him to mean their marriage. “We are and I’m not regretting anything, but you must understand I ventured out on this journey for a reason and I can’t abandon it.”
“I’m trying to understand what is so important that you would travel a thousand miles in a wagon train to find a man whose name you don’t know and nor do you have any idea where to find him.”
It burned Judith’s insides to hear him talk about her decision as if she was foolish. Silly. Worthless. Wasn’t that what Frank had thought? “Frank thought me foolish and inconsequential. Not worth living for. Or fighting for.” She tried to sound brave but heard the way her voice shook and hoped Gil wouldn’t notice.
“Judith, I am not saying you are foolish. Simply that given how little you know, your plan is impossible.”
“Seems to me that’s what many people said about venturing out on these trails whether the Oregon Trail or the Santa Fe Trail. And yet here we are. And thousands of others.”
He sighed. “What is so important about this man that nothing else matters?”
She hadn’t said nothing else mattered, but that was how he interpreted it. “If you must know, Frank’s stepbrother stole his money and left him with a failing business and so many debts he felt he could never clear his name. So he ended his life.” Her words rushed forth, heated and uncensored. “Have you any idea how it feels to watch someone you care about struggle under such a weight? To see them lose heart and then know you aren’t enough for that person to fight, to overcome his problems. To live.” Breathless, she couldn’t go on.
Gil didn’t speak for a moment. “I might know a little about how it feels,but I still don’t understand what you hope to gain by finding his stepbrother. Do you expect the man to pay Frank’s debts?”
“I just want him to acknowledge his guilt in Frank’s death so it isn’t just me.” Each word pushed past her teeth.
“I see.” Gil’s words were barely audible.
“I doubt you do.” In desperation she edged forward on the seat and turned to face him. “Help me find him and then I’ll never ask another thing from you.”
His gaze held hers in a vise. She knew before he answered that he would refuse her request and sat back to stare straight ahead, seeing nothing but the darkness of her despair.
“Judith, it I thought it possible to find this man, I would accompany you, but I see it only as a waste of time and money.
“Fine. I understand.” She wasn’t worth the time and money the search would require. She shouldn’t be surprised and she wasn’t. After what Frank did she knew she wasn’t worth any sacrifice whether great or small.
Why had she let herself think otherwise just because Gil was a good man?
8
Gil kept his attention on guiding the mules along. Thankfully they required little help from him as they followed beside the other wagons.
He’d let himself be lulled into thinking and dreaming of a future with Judith. He’d even begun to think of leaving freighting and guiding to begin a new life with a home and family.
Were all women so ready to forget their promise of faithfulness or simply the ones he let himself care about?
But she couldn’t walk away. There was young Anna to think of.
A dreadful idea slammed into his brain. Would Judith insist on taking Anna with her? He picked up the baby and perched her on his knee. “Anna is my responsibility. I promised her father to give her a home.”
Judith shrugged. “How are you going to look after her on your own?”
“I’ll hire a nurse, a nanny, a housekeeper—whatever the woman wants to call herself.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to help me? That way we could stay together?” Her soft words beckoned.
She didn’t realize how impossible it would be to find the man she sought, but Gil didn’t want to spend their days divided on the subject. Given time she would come to a reasonable conclusion on her own. “I’ll give it some consideration.”
“Thank you.”
Guilt stung his thoughts and brought heat to his cheeks. She trusted him to think about a matter that he had already made up his mind on. But it was the best he could do.
Anna pointed at the mules and babbled. Gil again told her the mules’ names and made up stories about them, but after a bit Anna lost interest and squirmed to get down.
The other women walked beside the wagons.
Judith looked longingly at them.
“Two more days and we’ll know if we’ve escaped the diphtheria,” he said, hoping to make her feel better.
Air eased from her lungs. “Thinking about that makes everything else seem a minor detail.”
“Indeed.” Already she was seeing what mattered and what didn’t. Soon she’d realize that finding Frank’s stepbrother fit into the latter category. “Do you want to walk?” He stopped the wagon and she got down and lifted Anna to the ground. Her gaze went to the other women. They waved at each other. It was all they could do until the waiting period for the disease was over.
There was still a chance one of them might get it. He felt fine. He watched Anna. Since her worrisome day of sleeping, she bounced about as healthy and happy as anyone could expect. His gaze followed Judith. Hadn’t she seemed lethargic since arising this morning? Did her steps lag? Her shoulders sag?
In his determination to make her understand the futility and waste it would be to spend her life trying to find Frank’s stepbrother, had he overlooked something far more important—her health?
Anna bent to examine something and Judith stopped to watch her.
Gil eased back on the reins, not wanting to get ahead of them.
Judith looked up, a question in her eyes.
“I’ll stay close in case Anna tires and wants to ride,” he called above the noise of the wheels grinding along and the pots and tools clattering with every step the mules took.
Judith nodded.
Anna moved on, a rock clutched in her little fist.
Gil chuckled. “We’ll soon be weighted down with her rocks.”
Judith laughed. Her eyes flashed at him across the dusty prairie, He felt a deep connection to this woman. He would have faith that they would work things out. That it wouldn’t be like Lillian. Or even Pa.
Pa? He stared ahead. Why would he think things hadn’t worked out with his father? Why would he think of him in the same instance as Lillian?
Judith caught the side of the wagon. “Gil, let us aboard.”
He stopped the wagon. She handed Anna up and the child added some rocks to her collection.
Judith sat beside him. “Gil, what’s wrong?”
“Pardon?” Why would she ask that? She couldn’t have read his thoughts.
“You were laughing about Anna and then your face fell.” She searched his face. “You aren’t ill, are you?” She touched his brow, her fingers cool, filling him with a yearning to turn his face into her palm. Before he
could act on his foolish thoughts, she brushed her hand over his arm. “Please don’t get it.” Her voice cracked.
She cared. Despite her talk of finding Frank’s stepbrother, she cared. Surely she wouldn’t leave him to search for a man she didn’t even have a full name for.
“I’m feeling just fine.” Better than that. He felt jubilant.
“Then what happened?” She looked beyond him to see if there had been something out there. There was nothing to see but prairie and sky and she brought her gaze back to him.
He could drown in the concern he saw in her eyes. “I was thinking of my pa.”
“It looked to be a painful thought.” Her hand rested on his. “What’s wrong?”
He wasn’t sure what to tell her. It didn’t seem right to confess to an unkind thought toward a man who had passed from this world to the next, but the weight of her hand freed his thoughts. “I watched you with Anna and thought how sure I was that things would work out.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Not like it was with Lillian. Right on the heels of that thought came another.” He swallowed hard and couldn’t immediately go on. “Not like it was with Pa,” he whispered. He sought Judith’s gaze and something more. Understanding.
“He was unfaithful?” she asked, her voice soft with no condemnation.
“I didn’t realize that was how I felt about him giving all our savings to Ollie. The thought sneaked in unexpectedly.”
“I suppose your father dispensed the money in good faith. He couldn’t know Ollie would fail in his venture.”
Gil nodded, eager to have the disloyal thought explained away. “I know he did what he thought was right.”
“Of course he did. Things simply didn’t work out.”
She made it so clear. Pa had not given away Gil’s money. “He invested the money and the investment failed.”
“That’s right.” She squeezed his hand.
Buck called for the wagons to stop for noon and Gil fed and watered the mules while Judith got out the cold food.
Anna was so glad to be down that she ran about in circles squealing. The camp dog ran out a few yards and barked at her. Anna stopped and stared at the dog then headed toward him.
Warren called the dog back.
Anna whimpered. Gil took her hand and led her to Judith. “Are you hungry?”
Anna immediately forgot everything else and ate eagerly. Before Gil and Judith finished Anna’s head fell forward and then she slipped sideways and lay sleeping.
Gil chuckled. “Appears the little miss is tired.” He looked Judith’s direction and his heart skipped a beat at the warmth in her eyes. Had his desires been granted? Did she see that her role as his wife and Anna’s mother exceeded any need to find Frank’s stepbrother?
Gil carried Anna to the wagon and settled her in the back then stretched out in the shade with his hat over his head to rest. He heard Judith stow their lunch things and was aware that she walked away from the wagon. He lifted his hat and watched her, decided she was in no danger and covered his face again.
He wakened when he heard the teamsters hollering at the oxen to get moving. The snap of the bullwhips crackled through the air. He scrambled to his feet, stretching and yawning. He glanced about, but didn’t see Judith. He looked inside the wagon but she wasn’t there either. Anna slept peacefully.
Pulling his hat lower to shield his eyes he searched the landscape. No sign of her. He turned to the other wagons, now moving slowly forward. He didn’t see her with them and didn’t expect she would risk infecting them.
Buck rode up, stopping a distance away. “Time to roll out.”
“Have you see Judith?”
Buck laughed. “Married six days and you’ve lost your woman? Is that some sort of a record?”
“Last I saw of her, she’d gone that way.” He pointed.
“I’ll have a look.” Buck rode away.
Gil stared after him, his heart beating sluggishly.
A moment later, Buck turned back.
Gil took a dozen steps toward him but stopped as Buck signaled for him to wait. Buck reined in and leaned over his saddle. “She’s over there. Best you go see. I’ll keep an eye on your wagon.”
Gil hesitated. “Anna’s asleep in the back but she won’t likely waken.” Settled that the baby was safe, he trotted in the direction Buck had gone. Running was not something he did much of and he felt a little awkward, but he ignored the discomfort and continued on.
The muscles in his leg protested and he realized the ground rose in one of those almost invisible prairie hills. His heart hammered as much from fear at what he’d find as from the exertion he put forth. The ground leveled off and he would have stopped to catch his breath but worry over Judith propelled him forward. And then he saw her leaning on a thick branch, little moans coming from her and he ran as he’d never run before.
He reached her side. “Judith?” He spoke tentatively when she took no notice of his arrival. She stared at the ground and he followed her look. A snake…or what remained of it. It had been beaten to a pulp. He could barely identify it as a rattler. He shook her. “Did it strike you?”
Her pupils were too large.
He shook her again, gently but insistently. “Judith, did the snake bite you?
Her eyes focused and she shuddered. “No. I didn’t give him a chance.”
Gil choked back laughter knowing she wouldn’t see any amusement in her circumstances, but it tickled him no end to see her use her fear to drive her to action.
No wonder she was so disappointed in Frank. Rather than give up on life or any single challenge, this feisty woman would tackle the problem head on and not give up until she’d conquered it.
Which might serve her well when it came to snakes, but he feared where it would take her in her pursuit of another kind of snake—Frank’s stepbrother.
He eased the hefty stick from her fingers, put an arm about her shoulders and turned her toward the wagon. “It’s time to be moving.”
By the time they’d climbed to the top of the slope her silent shock had given way a different sort of shock…one of excited chatter.
“I heard the snake before I saw him. He wasn’t more’n ten feet away. But he didn’t know how much I hate snakes. It was unfortunate for him, but fortunate for me that a tree branch lay at my feet. I grabbed it and before that snake could think to do anything, I whacked him across the head. No snake is going to bite me without having a fight on his hands.” She snorted. “Snakes don’t have hands. So I don’t know what he has. But it doesn’t matter. I whacked him and whacked him. And then I did it again just to be safe.”
Gil knew she must have hit the snake fifty times or more. He waved Buck away and led Judith to the wagon. He guessed she wouldn’t sleep with the excitement and fear coursing through her body but she needed to be in the back to watch Anna and he helped her inside.
He stuffed back his laughter as he climbed to the seat. As he expected, Judith was too churned up to sleep and crowded to the back of the seat.
She leaned over the tailgate. “I guess I taught that snake a lesson he won’t soon forget.”
Unable to contain his amusement any longer, he roared with laughter.
She squinted at him a moment and when he didn’t stop laughing she swatted him lightly on the shoulder. “It wasn’t funny.”
“You beat the snake to a pulp, but you think he might have learned a lesson he won’t forget.” Laughter mangled his words.
“Huh. Wish he could spread the word to all his relatives to watch out for me.”
“Yes, indeed. A bulletin should go out to warn all snakes of the vengeance of Judith Trapper.” He sobered. Combining his name with hers felt awkward and yet that’s how it was.
She quieted and leaned over the back, resting her chin on her arms. “I surprised myself.”
“How so.”
“Last time I saw a snake I froze. And in my dreams, I can never move or call for help. Strange how that has changed.” She turned her head to
look at him. “Wonder why I’ve changed.”
He answered before he could think. “Must be marriage to me.” Her face was mere inches from his and he looked into eyes that were brown as mink fur and as bottomless as the clearest mountain lake he’d ever seen. He could almost see her thoughts and knew that, at that moment, she didn’t mind being his wife.
Then a curtain closed her heart to him and he knew she had thought of Frank and his stepbrother.
If only she could let go of the idea of finding the man.
Judith bounced back and forth between wanting to shout to the world that she’d killed a loathsome snake and wanting to hug Gil for no other reason than he had seen what she did to the snake. And maybe a little because he was a good man.
If only he would agree to help her find Frank’s stepbrother. Not until she had done that could she feel free of the condemnation of Frank’s death.
A little later Anna wakened and Gil stopped so she and Judith could climb out. They walked beside the wagon for a while though Anna didn’t walk so much as meander from one thing to another while Judith carried a shovel and kept a close watch for snakes.
She ignored Gil’s chuckles.
Anna soon wearied and wanted to be carried. Judith didn’t go far with the child in her arms before she asked Gil to stop and let them climb up beside him.
“See any snakes that need to learn a lesson?” His innocent voice didn’t fool her for one moment.
* * *
“News must have gotten around by now.” She spoke in a tone of dismissal.
He chuckled and she admitted how much pleasure it gave her to be able to make him laugh.
She jolted upright as she realized something about Frank. He liked to laugh, but he did not take well to teasing. All his amusement came from laughing at others. How had she never seen that before?
“Something wrong? Remembering the snake?”
“You could say that.” She did not like what she had discovered about herself and searched her memories, hoping she had never laughed at someone with their knowledge. To her shame, she could not be sure. Had she really been selfish and cruel? Or simply blinded by her love for Frank?