Page 48 of Wagon Train Redemption
“I’d like to hear, and talking helps pass the time. Mostly there’s nothing to see but trees, grass, and the swaying of the oxen lumbering along in front of us.” She lifted a hand to indicate their surroundings. Her quiet laugh was short. “Don’t get me wrong. I prefer the boring to the dramatic. No more fires or floods or rustlers or desperate women.” Her shudder might have been exaggerated. Or not.
Joe, on horseback, thundered toward them.
“You might have spoken too soon,” Carson murmured.
Joe stopped at the first wagon before he rode to Angela’s. “We have visitors coming. We’ll stop up ahead in a few yards. There’s water. It’s early, but we’ll noon there.” He rode back to inform Ma and Gabe.
“Visitors?” Angela gripped the reins harder. “Does it mean trouble?”
The few timesthey’d had visitors, it hadn’t been good. Men wanting to rob them. A desperate woman wanting to marry one of the men. A lost young fellow stealing food. Dobie seeking help for his dying parents. She shivered at what this might mean and urged the oxen to a faster pace though they plodded on at their regular speed. One good thing had come out of it—it diverted Carson from probing her past and her reasons for being cautious about trusting people. Of course, there were those she totally trusted because they had proven to be trustworthy. Like Ma and, before he died, Pa. But didn’t that reinforce what Carson said? That you had trust people, even a little, to learn if they deserved it.
She shook her head, then glanced toward him to make sure he hadn’t noticed. Trust was fragile. Easily destroyed and impossible to rebuild. Better to guard her heart than to have it smashed like a rotten pumpkin.
Thankfully, Carson leaned forward, watching for the visitors.
They pulled to a stop. The oxen were taken to water and rest. Angela was helping Ma put out food for the noon meal when their visitors appeared over the hill. A farm wagon, loaded with furniture. Angela couldn’t make out those who rode on the seat except to see there were three people.
“I hope they’re friendly,” Ma murmured.
“Joe wouldn’t have invited them if they weren’t.” Hazel shaded her eyes to see the wagon better as it approached. “It’s a woman and two boys.” Surprise had her dropping her hand and staring.
Joe rode beside the visitors and accompanied them to the camp. “This is Mrs. Hankins and her sons.”
“Please join us for our noon meal,” Ma said after names and greetings were exchanged.
Mrs. Hankins accepted. Her two boys, Ethan and Eric,who were ten and twelve, climbed down and stood awkwardly to one side.
Ma offered the woman a drink of water while she put out food. “Where are you headed, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Angela wasn’t the only one who listened as the woman answered.
“My brother has a farm toward Cypress Hills. The boys and I are going to join him.”
The first question that popped into Angela’s mind was where was the husband and father? But she couldn’t ask it. Turns out, she didn’t have to.
“My husband ran off with another woman and left us without a penny to our names.” Mrs. Hankins dashed away tears. “I’m ever so thankful my brother said we could join him. He says we can work together on his farm. Said it would benefit us both.”
“I am so sorry to hear of your situation.” Ma squeezed Mrs. Hankins’s arm. “May God give you the home you desire and deserve.”
“Thank you.”
Carson was close enough to have heard the woman’s story, and Angela gave him a look that surely carried her thoughts. After all, this proved how dangerous it was to trust people.
His look was equally firm, but she didn’t know what he meant.
The travelers gathered around for the meal. They lingered afterward as the oxen rested. Ma and Mrs. Hankins talked about starting over. Angela couldn’t hear everything they said but enough to know Ma offered the woman encouragement.
Ruby opened her sketchbook and closed it again without drawing anything. “What kind of man does that sort of thing? Leave a woman with children? Thankfully, I know Robert would never do that.” She heaved a huge sigh. Then she sat up as if struck by a sudden thought. “Do yousuppose Mrs. Hankins is a shrew in private, and that’s why he left?”
It was one of those age-old arguments that grated through Angela. “Why are we so eager to blame the woman? Looks to me like she’s doing her best.”
“I expect you’re right. It’s just so wrong.”
“Indeed.” As wrong as the sun rising in the west and setting in the east.
“I thank God for good men.” Ruby’s words rang with conviction.
“Amen.” Thankfully, Angela had known a few such as Father and Pa.
