Page 23 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“Bart said two hours to get to Dundare.”
“I heard him.” She guessed Andy either wanted to make conversation or wanted to be sure she understood the travel plans. She’d also heard Bart say they could go two hours south and east to another station. “Thank you for choosing this direction.”
His smile warmed his eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice how you twitched at the idea of going the other way.”
“It would take me toward Mr. Hartman. Though maybe he’s given up and gone after a different mail-order bride.”
Andy’s smile flattened. His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t think you believe that.”
His gaze held hers. For a moment, she knew only the sensation that he had heard more than what her words said. He could have ignored her worries. But it seemed they mattered to him. It momentarily made her feel like as if he sheltered her in the palm of his hand. But she’d never forget the threats Mr. Hartman had yelled after her. Nor the cruel grasp of his fingers on her arms. She rubbed the bruises he’d left.
“No, I don’t.” She shuddered. “He struck me as the kind of man who wouldn’t accept anyone defying him.”
Andy squeezed her hands where they lay in her lap. “I’ll see you get on the train heading east. I’ll ask the conductor to make sure no one bothers you.”
“Thank you.” The words caught on the back of her tongue. No one had been protective of her since her father died.
Andy cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the road before them. She concentrated on their surroundings though there was little to see. The trail was powdery dry just as it had been yesterday. The dust billowed to the side, driven by a scorching wind that moaned as if carrying a load of sorrow. The sun was bright and hot.
Della silently thanked Trudy for the bonnet she’d insisted Della wear. “It will keep the sun out of your eyes.”
Andy handed her a canteen, and she drank greedily. The water had been cold and fresh when he filled it, but now was tepid and had a stale taste.
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and gave the canteen to Andy. He tipped his head back to swallow. She watched with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Her cheeks burned to be staring and she jerked her attention forward. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. Over and over. It did nothing to distract her from her embarrassment.
They passed a grove of trees from which birds complained though she couldn’t say if it was because of people rattling by in a wagon, or the heat that showed no mercy. The trail curved, bringing them toward a slow-moving stream of water. Had they been on the move one hour… two… more? She considered the position of the sun but couldn’t decide.
“You’re anxious to get there.” Andy sounded amused.
“I need to contact my mother and let her know I’m safe.” So far, she’d managed to avoid thinking of her mother back in Toledo awaiting news. Ma would have her bags packed ready to head west as soon as she heard from her. Della’s bones rattled with a shudder as she thought of how she’d almost let her mother go on her own to Gunders Crossing.
“Something wrong?” Andy scanned the horizon before he looked at her.
“Thinking of Mr. Hartman.” She shuddered again. “To think Ma might have come out here and married that awful man.”
“Except you came to check him out.”
“I haven’t forgotten the vows I made my father before he died.”
“To take care of your mother and enjoy life?”
Reduced to such ordinary words, spoken under such unordinary circumstances, it sounded easy. Promises easily given, considered readily achievable, were suddenly challenges beyond imagination. Her trip west had shaken every bit of complacency from Della. Her plans would be delayed while she and Ma sought a suitable husband for her ma.
She realized Andy waited for her answer. “I meant those promises when I made them. I cannot disappoint my father.”
The words drifted along in the cloud of dust rising from the wheels. She thought it was the end of the conversation until Andy spoke, softly, gently, kindly.
“Or yourself, I think.”
“Myself?”
“I believe you would be disappointed in yourself if you didn’t achieve those goals.”
“Of course, I would. What does the Bible say? Something about it’s not good if we make a vow and don’t fulfill it. God keeps His promises and so should we.” The words burned from her heart and over her tongue.
“I would never suggest you should go back on something you said you’d do. My pa always said a man is as good as his word. But—” He shifted and settled back.
