Page 10 of Wagon Train Redemption
“Carson, of course not. Her parents loved her and did their absolute best for her. Now let’s get back to camp.”
“Certainly.” Water sloshed over his boots as he picked up the buckets and followed Ma back to the others. She hadn’t given him a satisfactory answer. Or did he mean he wanted to know more? Something that would explain Angela’s odd reaction to simple questions. Guilt trickled through him. Was it because he’d been so unkind to her when she first arrived? How was he to find out?
He glanced around those gathered at the fire. Irene was the most likely to give him answers. He’d find a way to talk to her.
But first, they ate. Then there were chores to do. And then Gabe got his guitar, and there was singing. After that, Irene and Walt slipped away. The others headed for their beds.
Carson sighed. He was a patient man. He’d find an opportunity.
The next day, Irene sat on her horse and rode at the head of the wagons, Walt at her side.
After the entourage rumbled along, Carson urged his horse forward. He passed the last wagon with Gabe walking by his team of oxen, Ma at his side. They were so engrossed in talking they probably didn’t even notice him. Bertie followed the middle wagon, Limpy and Alice with him, his cats likely riding in the wagon in front of him.
Angela sat on the wagon seat, guiding that team with reins. When he slowed, she flicked a glance his way and tipped her head to acknowledge his presence before focusing on the oxen though they trudged along placidly, well used to travel.
With no encouragement to ride with her, he trotted forward until he rode at Irene’s side. If he asked about Angelaright away, Irene would wonder at his curiosity. “How does it feel to be a married woman?”
She flipped her long braid over her shoulder, still very much the little girl who’d often run along after him, egging him into trouble. “Better’n I could have dreamed possible.”
Bright spots flared in her cheeks. She looked toward Walt. Their gazes were so claiming that he felt like an intruder and shifted his attention in the other direction.
“I’m glad to see you happy.” This sister had always been so restless.
“Thanks.”
“It’s strange that all the ladies are married except for Angela.”
“Her time will come.” She seemed so certain.
“Do you know something I don’t?” Maybe she had a beau. He hadn’t considered that. That would explain part of her reaction but not all of it. She’d insinuated she might not want to get married.
“No. But you see her. She’s a beautiful woman. And knows how to work hard. Someone will snatch her up.”
“Do you remember when she first came?”
Irene squinted at him. “Of course I do.”
“Didn’t she seem—” He couldn’t find a word that didn’t sound unkind.
“Unsettled? Scared? Yes.”
“I don’t remember knowing anything about her family except?—”
“Except her parents were dead and we are now her family.”
Maybe he should consider that enough.
“I was wondering—” Would she understand his curiosity? See it as concern? That’s what it was. Wasn’t it? “What happened to her parents?”
“Besides dying?” Her look was as incredulous as her tone.
“I can’t help but wonder about what she’s had to deal with in the past.”
“Ask her.”
“Fine.” He wouldn’t be doing that. Not after her previous reaction.
She shifted in the saddle to look more closely at him. “You wrote to Walt, didn’t you? Did you know Walt from before?”
