Trail of Redemption (Hot on the Trail Book 6)

by Merry Farmer

  Graham wracked his brain for the best way to respond. He still wanted to wait for her to reveal her past in her own time, but his patience was running out. Heck, patience? He didn’t even know what that was.

  “I just want to make sure you’re happy,” he spoke his thoughts aloud. It was the truth and then some.

  “I—” Estelle’s nervous reply was cut off by a roll of thunder in the distance. Her head snapped up, and she looked ahead to the darkening clouds on the horizon. “I don’t like the look of that,” she said.

  Graham frowned and studied the storm with her. “Neither do I.”

  They’d encountered rain on the trail many times, even a few thunderstorms. The usual course of action was to keep going, trudging on in whatever downpour nature threw at them. A handful of times they’d had to stop and take shelter from lightning. None of those storms had been enjoyable, but they’d made it through.

  This storm had a more sinister feeling to it, which was confirmed by the look on Pete’s face as he rode back to them from the front of the train.

  “Storm ahead,” he said, wheeling his horse around to walk in the space between the wagons. “Looks like a doozy, which makes me nervous. We had a twister right around this spot last summer, and it did a lot of damage. I don’t want to take any chances with this one.”

  “What do we do?” Isaiah asked from the wagons’ seat.

  Behind them, Tim craned his neck to see what the adults were talking about. His sweet face was a mask of worry. Estelle gestured to him, and he left Graham’s oxen to rush to her side. That meant Graham had to fall back to make sure his team didn’t veer off course or bolt in the impending storm. He could still hear Pete, though.

  “I’ll stop the wagons in a minute,” he said. A flash of lightning cut through the clouds ahead. “Yep,” he went on. “Looks like this might get a bit tricky. I don’t think there’s a twister in there, but there could be hail and there’s definitely lightning. When I stop the wagons, take shelter.”

  “Whatever you say, sir,” Isaiah replied.

  Estelle nodded, strong on the outside, but Graham could see the worry in her profile, even from several paces behind her.

  Pete nudged his horse and continued on, back up the line of wagons to the front. Wind picked up all around them, bending the prairie grass and whipping the canvas coverings on the wagons. More lightning flashed ahead of them, and the rumble of thunder felt longer, louder with each blast. The clouds billowed toward them, changing shape fast.

  Within minutes, the wagons came to a slow stop. And not a moment too soon. With the force of a locomotive, the storm rolled toward them. The already strong wind punched through the line of wagons in fierce blasts. Graham’s oxen lowed in fear, jostling against their harness. Would it be better to free them so they could find their own way through the storm? Would that only scatter them and cause trouble later? He didn’t know. All he could do was watch to see what the others were doing.

  Most of the other pioneers rushed to take shelter or secure their animals. Away to the side, however, Gideon darted into the open grass with an armful of long, metal rods. Lucy was with him, holding a few rods of her own. Graham started, forgetting everything for a moment as he watched Gideon thrust rod after rod into the ground. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to his friend’s insane actions. If he and Lucy didn’t quit what they were doing and take shelter soon, they’d be struck by lightning.

  There was no time to do anything about it.

  “Essie, come up here into the wagon,” Isaiah’s order cut through the howling wind.

  Graham flinched and turned back to the supply wagon. Isaiah had jumped down from the driver’s seat and was gesturing for Estelle to head for the back of the wagon. Estelle stood where she was, one hand clasping her bonnet to her head as the wind yanked at it, the other pressing against Tim’s back as he hid in her skirts.

  “Come on,” Isaiah shouted. “This is no time to get up on your high horse with me.”

  Still, Estelle didn’t move. She glanced up as rain began to spit down on them. Within seconds, it picked up to a driving downpour, obscuring everything around them. The sound of oxen and horses calling in fear mingled with the drumming of the rain. Every which way, people were scrambling to pile into their wagons, the only shelter for miles around.

  “Don’t just stand there, woman,” Isaiah continued to shout at Estelle. “In the wagon. Now!”

  Graham gritted his teeth, adjusted his crutches under his arms, and pushed himself forward, toward Estelle. The grass grew slicker by the moment and the dirt of the trail was already transforming into mud, but Graham hobbled on until he reached Estelle’s side.

  “This way,” he said, half as loud as Isaiah’s order, but twice as firm.

  Estelle met Graham’s eyes with a deep fear that went beyond the wind and the rain and the crash of thunder moving ever closer. Graham reached out to take her hand, fighting to maintain his balance as he led Estelle and Tim toward his wagon.

  “Are you crazy, woman?” Isaiah shouted at her. “He can’t help you, I can.”

  Graham’s jaw hardened until his teeth hurt. Everything in him wanted to turn around, march up to the man, and sock him across the face for the way he spoke to Estelle. He wanted to, but he knew with certainty that he couldn’t, he wasn’t able to. The best he could do to get Estelle to safety was to run, leaving his pride behind him.

  “It’s all right,” Estelle reassured Tim as she lifted him into the back of Graham’s wagon. “There you go.”

  She was already soaked to the bone. The rain pounded from the sky with a fury that they hadn’t yet seen on the prairie. Her dress clung to her, and rivulets ran down her face. She thanked them for cooling her otherwise blush-hot cheeks. Between Isaiah’s commands and Graham’s rescue, so many conflicting emotions filled her that she felt as helpless as prairie grass in the storm.

  “Can you get up on your own?” Graham asked, having to shout to be heard above the din of the rain. He leaned his back against the open tailgate of the wagon, ready to hoist himself up. Frustration darkened his expression. He wanted to help her, but he couldn’t.

  “I can,” she replied. He would have helped her if he could, that was all that mattered.

  She turned to mimic his position, hefting her backside onto the tailgate. The supply wagon was directly behind them, and just before she pivoted to retreat into Graham’s wagon, Estelle caught sight of Isaiah climbing inside. His face was a mask of anger, and the look he sent her right before pulling the edge of the canvas closed to block out the rain made Estelle’s blood run cold.

  She turned away, scrambling deeper into Graham’s wagon to escape that look, that demand. It terrified her more than the storm.

  “Help me,” Graham began, scooting closer to her. He had flipped up the wagon’s tailgate and pulled the canvas closed, but now that he was seated, he wasn’t going to be able to get up easily.

  Estelle tossed her fear aside and scrambled to the back of the wagon. The wind was merciless as it pulled at the canvas. She had to fight to muscle the back flap into place, blocking out both wind and rain. Graham managed to balance against a trunk, lifting to his knees enough to assist her. As soon as Estelle was certain he had the back flap in hand, she climbed through the crowded wagon to secure the front of the canvas. She passed Tim—huddled between two crates, hugging himself in a ball—as she did.

  The storm continued to rage once the canvas was secure, and as soon as they had closed up all the gaps, Estelle’s body relaxed. She flopped to sit in the center of the wagon bed, catching her breath. Graham scooted his way over to her. They sat side-by-side, panting and wiping rain off of their faces. With the wind still howling and rain drumming against the canvas above them, soaking it through, Estelle was well aware that the sense of safety was an illusion, but she clung to it anyhow.

  “We made it,” Graham panted, breaking into a hesitant smile. “Now all we have to do is wait it—”

  A crash
of lightning and thunder sounded so close to their wagon that Estelle felt an electric jolt. She jumped toward Graham, reaching for him.

  Graham closed his arms around her without hesitation, pulling her close. They were soaked to the bone, chilled, and frightened, but the sudden clasp of body to body felt so right that all tension drained from Estelle. She breathed in the rich, damp scent of Graham, pressed her fingertips into the wet fabric of his shirt to feel the firmness of his muscle. Her face was mere inches from his, and when she lifted her chin to check on him, their mouths brushed close. So close that she could almost taste him.

  So close. So warm. So safe. She couldn’t help herself. With a surge that started in the pit of her stomach and lifted her up, she pressed into him, bringing her mouth over his. The tender touch of lips and the whisper of her tongue against him sent deep cords of wanting through her. She tightened her grip on him, closing her eyes and pouring her soul into that kiss.

  Moments later, his arms circled farther around her, hands spreading across her back. Graham lifted her across his lap, turning her so that he could kiss her more thoroughly. A deep groan rose from his lungs as he held her closer. One sudden kiss had opened the floodgates, and like the storm that raged around them, they couldn’t stop. His kiss was powerful, demanding, drawing passion up from the depths of her soul. She opened to him, moaning in delight at the thrust of his tongue, aching with the need to draw him inside of her in so many ways. His hand slipped to cup her breast, which only increased the fervor of her kiss. She wanted this man in her arms, she wanted Graham, more than anything she’d ever known.

  Another flash of lightning and thunder burst so close to them that Estelle’s cries of pleasure turned into a frightened gasp. Hers wasn’t the only shout of fear. She and Graham both stiffened in shock as they remembered Tim was huddled there in the wagon with them. Estelle shifted from her position clasped tightly in Graham’s arms to reach for him.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” she told Tim, breathless with passion still. “Come to me.”

  Tim launched out of his hiding place and pressed himself into Estelle’s arms. Just like that, the rage of passion that had carried Estelle and Graham away without warning had become something more. Tim shook with terror as Estelle and Graham both closed their arms around him and each other. He buried his face against Estelle’s chest.

  Estelle met Graham’s eyes over Tim’s trembling form. The desire was still there, burning strong, calling to her, but with it was regret and sharp frustration.

  “I can’t hold back anymore,” Graham began.

  Estelle silenced him with a long, “Shh. You have to,” she insisted. “We can’t throw caution away like that.”

  Graham shook his head. “No. I’ve held my peace long enough, fought the way I feel about you too long. I love you, Estelle.”

  Estelle gasped, but at the same time her heart burst with joy so strong that it brought tears to her eyes. She was dizzy with emotion, with victory and despair.

  “You can’t,” she said, choking on the words. “It’s too dangerous. There are things about me you don’t know.”

  “That you used to be a slave?”

  As swiftly as the joy had come over her, Estelle’s heart froze. Her hands and feet went numb. She stared at Graham, only inches away from her, mouth dropped open, no words coming. Thunder continued to boom outside the wagon, but it was nothing to the panic that welled in Estelle’s gut.

  “I know,” Graham said. He raised a hand to cradle her face. “I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me on your own, but I couldn’t, I can’t. I love you, Estelle.”

  Sense filtered back to her frazzled nerves, and with it the heat of anger. “Isaiah told you, didn’t he?”

  To her surprise, Graham shook his head. “I puzzled it out on my own. You have unique facial features, but nothing too unusual. I wouldn’t have guessed, but then I saw you standing next to Isaiah. The way you turned, your hair.” He paused, a soft grin lighting his face. “All right, I suppose Isaiah did tell me, in a way.”

  Estelle sucked in a breath at last, a fearful squeak escaping from her lungs. “But… you… you don’t hate me?”

  Graham relaxed, laughing with a tenderness that was in complete contrast to the raging storm outside the wagon. “I could never, ever hate you,” he said. “And I don’t care at all about your past or who your parents were or anything. I love you for who you are, who you’ve become, and who you want to be.”

  “Oh, Graham,” Estelle sighed. Nothing could have prepared her for the swell of affection—and relief—that washed through her. All of her fears, all of the hopes she struggled to make real, boiled down to this moment. Against all odds, Graham loved her.

  “I love you too,” she admitted in a voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it over the storm. “God help me, I love you.”

  Graham’s shoulders shook with laughter, he leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. “I never thought anyone would be able to love me again.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, laughing and crying at once. She was too full of joy for just one reaction.

  He responded by kissing her. It was a short, sweet kiss, considering that Tim was still burrowed between them, but it conveyed all of the relief and longing that came with getting secrets out into the open and declaring the love that had been hiding underneath.

  “Marry me, Estelle.”

  The proposal came so swiftly and was spoken with such intimacy that Estelle gasped and sat straighter, pushing away.

  “What?” Her heart pounded as she took in the full implication of such a short question.

  “Marry me,” Graham repeated, stronger. He caressed her face again, brushing his thumb along the damp trail her tears of joy had made. “It’s crazy, I know. It might be difficult for both of us, but I can’t picture a life without you. And now that Nelson has given me a chance to have a future, I know I can make a life for you, for us.”

  With his shoulder wedged against the side of the wagon, he moved his other hand to rest on Tim’s shoulder. Tim’s face split into a beaming smile, and a wordless giggle of delight bubbled from him. Estelle’s chest ached with so much happiness it was almost painful. It wasn’t just the two of them. Their love could extend so much further than that.

  “Yes,” she said at last, pouring her whole soul into that one word. “Oh, yes.”

  She stretched over Tim’s head to kiss Graham. Without the boy there, there was no telling how passionate that kiss would have become. It contained every flowering hope Estelle had ever had. She held back, even though she longed for more.

  Tim had other ideas. He grabbed a handful of Graham’s shirt and Estelle’s bodice and pulled their group embrace tighter. Another crack of thunder sounded, this one farther away. The drumming of the rain on the canvas grew sharper, hinting that hail was now mixed in. But all Estelle cared about was the bloom of love between them. The three of them huddled closer, unable to hold on forever, unwilling to let go.

  Chapter Twelve

  The storm passed. After the lightning and the wind, the hail and the thunder rolled away, the only thing that remained was rain. That in itself was enough to keep everyone snuggled in the safety of their wagons for the rest of the afternoon.

  Graham rested his back in the corner between a crate of his sister’s china and the edge of the wagon bed, floating on a wave of euphoria. A crick had formed in his neck, and his shirt was still soaked down his back from where water seeped through the canvas, but he wouldn’t have moved for the world. Estelle—his fiancée—dozed in his arms. Tim napped curled up between them. It felt as though he’d come home from the war at last, and the future was calling.

  Next, Estelle would probably try to get him back on a horse, like she’d promised. He could see it now, her scolding and planting her hands on the swell of her hips as he hemmed and hawed and tried to delay. The anxiety about horses that he’d carried around for months was distant now, and he was
fairly sure he’d be able to tackle the challenge of getting back in the saddle, but facing off with Estelle, pretending he was still nervous so that he could get a reaction out of her, would be priceless. He laughed as he imagined it.

  The shake of his laughter stirred Estelle from her slumber.

  “What?” she asked, drawing in a breath and sitting straight. She rubbed her eyes and glanced around, waking Tim in the process.

  “Nothing,” Graham replied, laughter smoothing out to low, rumbling chuckles. “Just thinking about how funny things can seem when the future looks so bright.”

  A sleepy smile spread across Estelle’s face. Her head was tilted down toward Tim, but she glanced up at Graham through thick, curling lashes.

  Graham’s heart caught in his throat, breath whisked away by Estelle’s beauty. In the dim light of the closed up wagon, she seemed darker, mysterious. Her bonnet had slipped down the back of her head. He raised a hand to stroke his fingers along her cheek, cradling the side of her head. Her hair was thick with tight curls, luxurious. Her lips were soft and full. Everything within him wanted to kiss her again, and kiss her hard.

  He peeked down at Tim, and when he was certain the boy was still asleep, he leaned in to steal that kiss. Estelle giggled low in her throat and arched toward him, lips parting.

  A knock on the side of a wagon several yards away from them and Pete’s call of, “You folks okay in there?” shook Graham and Estelle out of the heat that grew between them.

  They shifted, moving away from each other, chuckling and stretching stiff and sore limbs. It was a good thing Pete was checking on people. The temperature had been inching up far higher than it should be in the wagon and Tim wasn’t as asleep as Graham had thought. Tim sat up with a long sigh, letting his arms drop and smiling as though nothing had ever gone wrong.

  “Told you we’d be all right,” Graham said, ruffling Tim’s already messy hair.

  Tim beamed as though he’d just had the best day of his life instead of riding out a powerful storm.