by Danni Roan
The wagon rolled to a stop without Spencer noticing and he continued forward until a soft hand came to rest on his arm.
“I think we’re here Mr. Gaines,” Daliah said quietly, looking up from under the brim of her hat with a smile. “Won’t you stay for dinner?”
Chapter 12
Spencer took a seat by the fire next to Mr. Hampton and tried to concentrate on the old man’s conversation, but every movement around the fire was a distraction.
Daliah’s presence seemed to fill the camp fire as she worked to help Mrs. Hampton prepare the evening meal that would be shared with others.
Further into the small clearing, Mr. Franco was tuning up his fiddle, and a feeling of cheer seemed to permeate the circle of wagons around the glistening spring.
The laughter of children told Spencer that the families were beginning to relax, and he sighed as he mentally counted out the days before they got to Texas.
“Mr. Gaines, Mr. Gaines?” Orville Hampton called. “How long did you say?”
“What?” Spencer pulled his mind back to the conversation with a shake. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked sullenly.
“How much longer until we get to this town in Texas?” Orville asked.
“Oh, maybe three weeks if we make good time, four at the outside.”
Mr. Hampton smiled. “I’m looking forward to setting up house once we get there. I always enjoyed working with my hands, and I’m not past it yet. I can still wield a hammer as good as anyone. I even brought one of the smaller sawmill blades along under the wagon, so we can set up a mill right quick.”
“From what I hear there’s need of men and women who aren’t afraid of hard work,” Spencer said. “Other than my brother’s ranch there isn’t much of a town, and folks are hoping that our wagon train will change the progress and tone of the location.”
“Bit rough huh?” Orville asked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Back when me and Olive started out, things was pretty rough there in Smithfield too, but bit by bit folks made a go of it and look at our former home now.”
Spencer smiled, gazing around him at the families getting ready to eat. There were only about ten wagons all together very nearly split between single men and families. They had each set out on this journey to find something new, and he hoped it worked out for everyone.
From his brother’s latest letter, he knew there was plenty of land to be had in the unnamed town, and that skilled labor as well as trades were lacking from the rolling hills and low fields of the area.
“I think there’s plenty of opportunity for anyone willing to put a hand to hard work,” Spencer continued. “My brother’s ranch is growing. He and his men have been collecting rough cattle from the area and building a herd. They’ve already put in a cabin and a few huts and a good barn at his place. I think there’s money to be made if folks will try.”
Mr. Hampton nodded his head a bright light in his dark eyes. “It ain’t easy starting over, or even starting out,” the old man said, “but at least we have a chance, and with a little effort and a load of prayer, we might just turn our new home into something.”
Mr. Hampton turned toward the fire and smiled at Daliah as she gave something a stir in the large dutch oven. “What you makin’ tonight?” he asked with a grin.
“Olive is reheating the stew from last night, so I decided we needed something sweet. I’m making brown sugar dumplings just like my mother used to make,” she said with a smile.
“That sounds mighty good,” Mr. Hampton said, patting his stomach, “this long travel day seems to have left me hollow as an old stump.”
Spencer looked up meeting Daliah’s eyes with a grin. The Hampton’s had big hearts and their kind and giving nature set everyone at ease. It was no wonder that Daliah fit in so well with them. He wondered if she would stay with them after they arrived in Texas, or if one of the single men in the train would get around to courting her.
A flicker of something akin to jealousy raced through his middle like hot lead, and he shoved it away with a growl. He didn’t need a woman in his life. He only needed to get Chad settled, still something deep inside seemed to wriggle like a butterfly still trapped in its cocoon as he thought of Daliah marrying one of the men they now traveled with.
“What’s brown sugar dumplings?” Chad asked hurrying to the fire as if drawn there by a string. “I want some,” he added reaching toward the heavy pot.
“No,” Daliah cried, grabbing the boys hand before any harm could be done. “It’s very hot Chad,” she said softly, pulling the now irritated boy to her. “You could burn yourself and besides if you open the lid too soon you’ll ruin everyone’s dessert.”
“Are you sure?” the boy asked. “I’m hungry now.”
“You’re always hungry,” Spencer chided a mixture of fear, gratitude, and irritation coursing through him. He seldom spoke up to his son, but this time he was sure that only Daliah quick reflexes had saved him from a terrible scalding.
“He’s a growing boy,” Daliah said, standing from where she’d bent to talk to Chad. “We’ll have supper in a jiffy,” she finished placing the boy’s hand into his father’s larger ones. “Just be patient a little longer.”
Spencer looked down into the soft featured of the young woman as she met his gaze and that little butterfly in his middle seemed to struggle harder to escape it carapace. “Thank you,” he said lamely, letting his eyes convey his thoughts.
Daliah looked up into Mr. Gaines eyes seeing something there that she didn’t recognize. The man had been extra attentive to the Hamptons, and she appreciated the fact. Chad, though often into one scrape or another made her smile, and she realized that he was missing having a mother to care for him.
Daliah didn’t doubt that Mr. Gaines loved his son, but tying to raise the boy on his own had to be difficult.
“Stew’s ready,” Mrs. Hampton called. “Let’s take everything over under the trees and eat.”
“Gather round folks, gather round!” Mr. Hampton called. “Bring what you have to share and we’ll celebrate this restful place. Olive’s brought stew and Daliah has dessert. Tonight we celebrate the blessing of our safety so far,” he finished as others came forward bringing with them what they had to offer. Tonight no one would go to bed hungry.
Daliah watched as the others filled their plates, chatting and commenting on the bounty that the impromptu dinner had yielded. Patiently she dished out spoonfuls of her sticky dessert smiling and nodding at her friends as they found places around a fire to eat.
“I think you’ve missed someone,” Mr. Gaines said, stepping up to her with a plate full of food.
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Gaines I didn’t realize you wanted any,” Daliah said, preparing her spoon.
“I was talking about you,” he said, handing her the plate. “You need to eat too.”
Daliah dropped her eyes embarrassed at the attention but Mr. Gaines pressed the plate into her hands. “Thank you.”
“Hey, where’s my dessert?” Chad called racing up to his father. “I thought you said I could have some when it was ready?” he continued, glaring at Daliah.
“It’s right here,” Daliah said, reaching for a tin cup full of fluffy dumplings covered in a smooth brown sugar sauce. “I saved it especially for you.”
“You did?” Chad looked up his bright eyes full of shock. “Why?”
“Because you are my special friend,” Daliah said.
Chad dug his fork into his cup of sweets with a shrug. “Okay,” he said, shoving a bite of the mixture into his mouth as he walked back toward the other children.
In the background Mr. Franco began to play a reel and several couples rose beginning a dance.
Daliah tapped her foot to the music as she ate her meal. More couples stepped out onto the flat grassy plain moving to the lively tune of the fiddle with delight.
“Why don’t you dance Daliah,” Olive said, stepping up to her and Mr. Gaines. “Perhaps Mr. Gaines will be kind enough to take
a turn.
Daliah looked up into the handsome face of Spencer Gaines her heart in her throat as she wondered if he would go along with Olive’s request.
As Spencer looked down into the young woman’s face seeing a glimmer of hope in her eyes, he couldn’t say no.
“I’d be pleased,” he said, taking the empty plate from her and handing it to Mrs. Hampton as he led Daliah into the crowd.
***
Daliah placed her hand in Mr. Gaines rough one as he swung her toward the music, his other hand taking her waist. It had been ages since she’d danced, and her feet felt heavy at first, but the lean man in the dark Stetson moved her smoothly through the step.
“I haven’t danced in so long,” Daliah said, trying to keep pace with the music. “You must think me useless.”
“I think you just need to relax and enjoy the music,” Spencer said. Daliah felt so right next to him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to enjoy the company of a woman.
Daliah smiled and the motion flashed into her eyes as she relaxed. Warmth pooled across her back, and the tension that had made her stiff evaporated.
Spencer could see a flicker of joy reach out and touch Daliah transforming her usually serious face. Had life been so hard that she had forgotten how to smile, how to enjoy the simple things. Instinctively, he pulled her closer quickening his step as the song whirled toward its end.
Daliah gasped then laughed as Spencer spun her quickly to a standstill releasing her as everyone clapped for Mr. Franco.
“That seems to have done you some good,” Spencer said, not knowing where the words came from. “You should laugh more often.”
Daliah ducked her head again as together they walked toward the fire where Mrs. Hampton was handing out cups of coffee.
“I’m afraid I’ve been a little too busy to dance or laugh,” Daliah admitted.
“Life has a way of doing that to us all,” Spencer said, thinking of the days that seemed to have passed without his notice.
Chad was growing like a bad weed, and days seemed to come and go with eminent sameness. If he hadn’t had his job and his son, he suspected that he would have long ago disappeared into the wilds.
“You look very pensive,” Daliah noted taking a cup from her friend.
“I was just thinking on how life has been very much the same thing day after day, at least until recently.”
“Why is that?” Daliah asked handing him a cup of coffee.
Spencer took the cup then reached out taking her elbow and leading her to a stump. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I had hope.”
“What do you hope for?” Daliah asked. This was the first time that she had truly carried on a conversation with Mr. Gaines. Before he had always been polite and grateful for her help with Chad, but this was different.
“We’re getting closer to our goal,” Spencer said. “We’ve had good travel with no more than the usual bad luck, and folks are getting along pretty well.”
“You think we’ll make it to Texas soon then?”
“Should be a few more weeks,” Spencer said.
“What will you do when we get there?” Daliah asked.
Spencer looked up into her pretty face and shrugged. “I’ll work on my brother’s ranch I guess.”
“Don’t you know?”
“Dan said he needed folks to help build the town and work the ranch, so we organized this arrangement to see if we could bring him what he needs,” Spencer said gesturing around him with his mug.
“But what would you like to do?” Daliah asked.
Spencer shrugged again. “I’ll just be glad to be settled somewhere. It’s time for Chad to have a real home.”
“I’m sure he’ll like that,” Daliah admitted, “and he’ll get his own pony.”
“Yes, he’ll get his own pony,” Spencer agreed with a slight chuckle.
Daliah finished her coffee with a grin then blinked as one of the single men traveling with them stepped up, hat in hand.
“Would you care to dance Miss Owens?” he asked the skin around his collar going a delicate pink.
Spencer glared at the younger man but Daliah rose taking the outstretched hand as Jim Wallace led her to the dance area.
Something hot rolled over in Spencer’s stomach and he growled low in his throat as he pushed the feeling away. It was ridiculous to think of a woman like Daliah as anything but a travel companion, but he seemed to have made some connection with her.
Between her care of others, the help she provided for the Hamptons, and her quiet ways Daliah had somehow made an impression on him. Still it was none of his business who she danced with, or what she did once they got to the end of the trail. He would work with his brother. No woman would want the rough life offered by a ranch full of wild cowboys and wilder cows.
Daliah tried to carry on a polite conversation with Jim as they made a turn around the dance space but felt stiff and awkward once more. Somehow, Mr. Gaines had been able to put her at ease, but with Mr. Wallace, she felt out of place.
The dance ended, thankfully fast, and Joe wondered away to ask one of the teens in the party for the next round.
“Daliah,” Chad tugged at her skirts as she eased back into the shadow of a wagon to catch her breath.
“Yes Chad?” she said, leaning down to listen to the boy.
“Trey says his arm hurts,” the boy said.
“Why don’t we go check on him then,” Daliah said, taking Chad’s hand and heading back the way the boy had come.
Trey Script sat on a barrel his arm rutched up at an odd angle and a scowl on his face.
“I’m sorry to bother you Miss Daliah,” he said, “but my arm is hurtin’ and itchin’ something fierce.
“Let me see,” Daliah said, concern showing in the wrinkle of her brow as she helped Trey out of his shirt.
“It’s a little puckered here,” Daliah said, looking at a spot where a blister had collapsed and pressed against the skin. “You’ll need to soak it in tea more often,” she continued.
“Trey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mrs. Script called walking around the wagon. “Oh Daliah I’m so glad you’re here. I just finished cooling the tea. I got a bit caught up what with all the activity tonight. I think the tea is helping though.”
Daliah smiled at the other woman. “Your timing is perfect,” Daliah said softly. “Trey needs to put a compress on this again so the skin stays soft and smoothes out. Wrap it if you need to for the drive tomorrow.
“My mother said it was the tannic acid in the tea that softened the skin and kept it from scaring,” she finished.
A few minutes later Trey was wrapped in tea soaked rags while his mother fussed over him and Chad tugged at Daliah’s skirt once more.
“You should dance with my pa again,” the boy said, turning innocent eyes toward her. “He smiled when you danced before.”
Daliah’s heart skipped in her breast. Was what the boy said true? Mr. Gaines had been a man of few words and now that she thought of it he seldom smiled.
Still pondering the statement Daliah blindly followed Chad across the open space until he stopped in front of his father once more.
“Daliah wants to dance,” the boy said, plopping her hand into his father’s without warning and making her start.
“Oh dear,” Daliah gasped in embarrassment, “I didn’t, I mean Chad, well he said…”
A rough chuckle rumbled from Spencer’s chest as he squeezed Daliah’s hand. “We might as well humor the boy,” he said rising from his seat and leading her back to the dance area. “It’s kind of nice to just enjoy the evening and not think about tomorrow,” he added as the music picked up and he whirled his pretty partner around the now dusty circle.
Chapter 13
The dancing lasted into the night as people unwound; releasing the cares of their road weary days and laughter was common on the night air.
Fresh water, good grazing for stock, and the pulling together of a community li
fted spirits as much as knowing they would have a full day of rest on the morrow.
As campfires burned down and children were tucked in for the night, Spencer walked the camp checking for trouble, as he tried to settle his own busy mind.
Spencer had enjoyed his dances with Miss Owens far more than he would like to admit and couldn’t help but smile at how his son had wrangled her into another dance with him. As one of the leaders of the train, Spencer tried to keep himself distant from people in case some conflict arose, but he had to admit that he gravitated toward the Hamptons and the young lady traveling with him.