Page 15 of Wagon Train Redemption
Right. They were exchanging information. Did she have a story about food? For certain, she’d never had to survive on pemmican. In fact, she’d only recently tasted it when Joe gave her and Hazel a sample.
“Nothing I can say compares to eating pemmican for days at a time.”
“You are not going to get out of it that easy. I know Ma makes big meals on special occasions such as Christmas. Didn’t any of those make an impression on you?”
“They did. They were wonderful. I’d never experienced something like that before. There was just the two of us—” After Mama died.
Carson studied her, but she kept walking, doing her best to ignore his surprise.
“That sounds lonely.”
“Father roasted a chicken on Christmas.” Neither of them saw any point in treating the day any differently from another. Not until she joined the Woods did she realize the joy of a large family and a meal full of wonderful things.
“What’s your favorite part of one of Ma’s big feasts?” he asked.
“Everything.” The abundance of both food and laughter. “Although I ’specially enjoyed her raisin pies.”
He made appreciative noises.
“What’s yours?”
“Turkey. No, ham. No, her savory gravy. No, wait. I think it’s pumpkin pie.”
She chuckled at his list.
He waved in the air. “What can I say? I like good food.”
“Me too. And Ma makes the best.”
They grinned at each other, then hurried after the wagons.
It gave her a start to admit she was enjoying his company. It was fun to talk about his family. Another pleasant memory flashed into her thoughts. “Did you celebrate Dominion Day with your family, or was that something new?”
“July First. I was there for the first time they did it. Manitoba had recently joined Confederation, and we marked the occasion with a picnic. Another of Ma’s big meals only this one we ate outdoors.”
“Along with everyone in the community. A parade, speeches, a marching band. Some marching bands were better than others.” Her laughter rang out. “I remember the year Mr. Abey attempted to play the trumpet. How can I describe it without being unkind?”
Carson studied her, humor flashing in his eyes.
She tapped her chin. “You know how it says in the Bible something about if the trumpet sound is uncertain people won’t know what to do?” She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t have it right.”
“I get the idea.”
“Well, in this case, people knew exactly what to do. They covered their ears. Babies cried. Dogs howled. Horses reared up. Birds fled from the trees.”
Carson roared with laughter.
She joined in. How good it felt to set aside her caution around him and enjoy the moment!
He sobered enough to talk. “At the fort, a bugle calls us to various activities. I tried to play it once. It’s harder than it looks.”
“Really?” She held her fingers to an imaginary horn. “Toot-ta-do, toot-ta-do.” She lowered her hands. “See. Easy.”
His shout of laughter carried up the trail, drawing Ma’s and Gabe’s attention.
She sobered. “They must wonder what’s so funny.”
“Maybe you can play your bugle for them.” His words rounded with subdued laughter.
