Page 39 of Conveniently Wed
Her hands made fists in her lap, the pot seemingly forgotten on the bank.
“Her dress…the sleeve of her dress was ripped.” Fran’s voice shook as she spoke the words.
Hot anger swirled in his belly. If anyone dared do something like that to Breanna, they’d have the whole passel of White boys on them so fast…but who had been there to protect Emma? Only her sister.
“I called out, but when one of the teachers came to help, Underhill claimed the embrace was mutual. Emma denied it. Anybody with eyes to see would’ve known that he’d tried to force himself on her. But the damage was done. The school couldn’t have any hint of impropriety, and it was Emma’s word against his.
“The headmistress asked us to leave. She was afraid too—she wouldn’t use any of her connections to help us, other than offering to deliver Emma to an orphanage. I don’t know where I would’ve gone…We were packing our few things when Underhill showed up again. He told Emma he would have her—whether she wanted his attentions or not. It frightened us both. The headmistress escorted us to the orphanage, but Underhill threatened to return. One of the orphanage administrators believed us, though, and put us on the westbound train.”
“Did she know your real age?” He couldn’t contain the question.
She paused again, looking up at him. Moonlight filtered through the canopy of brushy trees above them. She frowned again. “No. I’ve always looked younger?—”
He could believe it. Her petite stature and pixie features made it a natural assumption.
“By that point I was so afraid that I couldn’t see any other way.”
“It doesn’t make it right,” he pointed out.
She sighed. Looked down. “No, it doesn’t.”
She picked up the pot again and gave it one more swish with the water and rag, then dumped the remaining water in the creek.
“What’s his interest in Emma? Do you think he’s really followed you all this way?”
“I can only guess his motives,” she said quietly. “It’s as if he became obsessed with her. I overheard a man asking about us on the platform at the Lincoln stop.”
Edgar would’ve questioned her further, but remembered his ma’s issues with just such a man. Why were some men bent on evil? He didn’t know, but he did know that the surge of emotion in his chest meant he wouldn’t let any harm come to Emma.
“We can’t be sure that whoever is following us is after you two. It could’ve been a farmer curious as to who was passing by. It could be someone interested in our cattle—which isn’t good either. Until we figure out who it is, I want you and Emma to stick close to the wagon or camp. Don’t head off by yourselves. Understand?”
Oh, she understood.
Fran was thankful that Edgar wanted to protect Emma. He’d believed her on the most important thing, and that was all that mattered.
But….
Part of her thought maybe she should tell him the rest.
She hadn’t lied to him.
But she hadn’t told him about Underhill’s accusations against her, either. They were entirely untrue, but given that she’d arrived under false pretenses and Edgar still questioned her trustworthiness, she didn’t want him to have any reason to doubt her.
She piled the clean dishes back into the pot and rose to stretch her back before she reached for it.
“I’ll haul it for you,” her husband said.
“Your hand—” she protested, but he’d already picked up the lot of it and was heading back toward camp.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad. You coming?”
Walking along next to him the darkness, nothing had been solved, but somehow she felt reassured.
Was it possible Godhadput her on that westbound train here, to Wyoming? Had God set her on a path to meet this man?
Looking up at the shadow of his profile against the starry sky, she was strangely comforted.
Maybe, after days of restless, worry-filled sleep, she would finally rest tonight.
