Love's Long Journey (Love Comes Softly Series #3) (3 page)

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enough to see, but the light would not last for long. Willie found his place and began in an even voice.

"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."*

He closed the Bible slowly.

"Yer pa underlined thet for us. When he handed me the Bible this morning, he read it to me and marked it with this red ribbon. He said fer us to claim thet verse fer our own and to read it every day, if need be, until we felt it real and meaningful in our hearts."

"It's a good verse," Missie said. Her voice was tremulous. If she closed her eyes she was sure that she would be able to see her pa sitting at the kitchen table with the family Bible opened before him and all of the family gathered round. She could even hear his voice as he led them in the morning prayer time. Her

pa--the spiritual leader of the home. No. . . not anymore. Willie was the head of her home now; he was her spiritual leader. Now she would look to him for strength and direction to get her through each day--whether happy or difficult. She was not Clark's little girl anymore; she was a woman, a woman and a wife. Clark had handed her into the care and keeping of Willie; and though Missie was sure that her father's love and prayers would reach out to her always, she also knew that Clark was content in his knowledge that she had taken her rightful place in life . . . by Willie's side.

Missie reached for Willie's hand and clung to it as they prayed together. Willie thanked God for being with them through the day and for the love of those left behind. He prayed for comfort for their hearts at this difficult time, as he and Missie learned to live without the nearness of their families; he asked for safety as they traveled and for special strength for Missie in the long days ahead, his voice tight again with concern. Missie determined that tonight was not the time to share her secret. There was no need to trouble Willie. She'd wait until she had gotten used to the bumping and the walking and had toughened to the

*Isaiah 41:10, KJV.

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pace of the trail. Besides, she told herself, there was still a chance that she could be wrong.

If she was right--and deep down inside, Missie admitted the fact that indeed she must be--she was bound to gain new vigor and strength with each passing day. In fact, the fresh air and exercise was bound to be good for her. She'd wait. She'd wait until Willie could see for himself that she was healthy and strong, and then she'd tell her secret. Then he would be as excited over the coming event as she was.

Oh, if only she could have told her ma and pa. She would have looked into their faces and exclaimed with joy, "I think you're gonna be Grandma an' Grandpa--now, what do ya think of that?" They would have hugged and laughed and cried together in one grand tangle of happiness. It would have been so much fun to announce her good news. But that wasn't to be--and it wasn't the right time to announce it to Willie either. She'd wait.

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Chapter 3

Another Day

Missie stirred herself with difficulty, unconsciously testing her back, her legs, her arms, to see just how much pain the movement brought to her. How she ached! Her mind reached for the reason. As sleep left her, it all came back to her with a fresh wave, a mixture of excitement and misgivings. They were on the trail. They were headed west and she had been jostled until she could stand it no more and then had walked behind the wagons until her body protested with every step; and now, after a sleep on the hard, confined bed in their new living quarters, she ached even more.

Willie must hurt too, she thought. She reached for him but her hand touched only his deserted pillow. Willie had already quietly left the cramped, canvas-covered wagon that was to be their home for many weeks.

Missie quickly pulled herself from her bed, suppressing a groan as she did so. "S'pose I've gone an' done it again," she muttered. "Willie likely had to cook his own breakfast too."

But after Missie quickly dressed and climbed stiffly down from the wagon, she was relieved to find that the sun was just

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casting its first rays of golden light over the eastern horizon-- very few people were stirring about the camp. Willie had started a fire and left it burning for her. Missie added a couple of sticks and watched as the flames accepted them with crackling eagerness.

"Land sakes!" Missie exclaimed. "I wonder iffen I'll ever get my tied-up muscles all unwound." She began to pace back and forth, flinging and flexing her arms to limber them up. "Me, a farm girl, and so pampered that one good day's walkin' bothers me! Guess Mama didn't work me hard enough."

As Missie stamped back and forth, she recognized another good reason for keeping on the move. In the coolness of the morning, the mosquitoes were out in droves and they all seemed to be hungry. Missie decided to return to the wagon for a long-sleeved sweater to protect her arms.

She poured a generous amount of river water from the two- gallon bucket into the washbasin that sat on the shelf on the outside of the wagon; she then began her morning wash. The water was cold and Missie was relieved to reach for the rough towel to rub the warmth back into her face and hands. But she did feel refreshed and ready to begin her day. She draped the towel over its peg and busied herself with the breakfast preparations. The coffee was bubbling and the bacon and eggs sending forth their early-morning "all's well" signal when Henry made his appearance.

Missie thought of Henry as no more than a boy, but smiled to herself as she realized that he was at least as old as her Willie.
Still,
she thought,
he doesn't have the same grown-up manner that Willie possesses.

"Mornin', Henry."

"Mornin', Ma'am."

The "Ma'am" brought another smile to Missie's lips. "Hungry?"

Henry grinned."Sure am."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Pesky mosquitoes don't let nothin' sleep. Bet the horses had to swish and stomp all night."

"Didn't bother me none. Leastways not until I got up this

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morning. Maybe we didn't have any in our wagon." "Willie said thet they were botherin' him."

Missie looked up from turning the bacon. "That so? Me, I never even paid them no mind. Guess I was just sleepin' too sound to notice. Where is Willie?"

"We checked out the horses and the cows, an' then he went over to have a chat with Mr. Blake."

"Everything all right?" She looked up with a furrowed brow. "Right as rain. Willie jest wanted to chat a spell, I reckon--to
see
how far we be goin' today."

"Oh." There was relief in Missie's voice. She didn't have to worry. She began to set out the tin plates for the morning meal.

It wasn't long until she heard the sound of Willie's familiar whistling. Her heart gave its usual flutter. She loved to hear Willie whistle. It was to her a sure sign that her world was all in proper order. Willie rounded the wagon and his whistling stopped.

"Well, I'll be. Ya sure are up bright an' early this mornin'," he teased. "Mosquitoes drive ya out?"

Missie smiled. `Truth is, I didn't even notice 'em. My achin' joints were the first to tell me that it was time to do a little stretchin'. You feelin' a mite stiff, too?"

"Reckon I'd be lyin' iffen I didn't own up to feelin' a little sore here an' there," Willie said with a grin. "An' thet's all thet yer gonna git me to confess. Full-grown, able-bodied man shouldn't be admittin' to even thet. Folks will be thinkin' thet I never worked a day in my life."

Missie glanced at the well-muscled body of her husband. "Iffen they do," she said, "they sure got eyes that don't see much."

"Boy, I sure hurt," Henry put in. "Never realized how sore one's arms could git from drivin' horses, nor how much work it was to just sit on thet bumpin' ole wagon seat."

"We'll git used to it," Willie assured him, rolling a log over to sit on. "In a few days' time, we'll wonder why we ever felt it in the first place."

Willie asked God's blessing on the food and the day ahead, then Missie served out their breakfast.

After they had eaten, Henry left to check the other wagon. As

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Missie washed up and packed away their supplies, Willie carefully went over his wagon and the harness. Many others were also moving about now. There were sounds of running and yelling children, barking dogs and calling mothers. Amid the early morning clamor, Missie heard a baby cry.

"Didn't know we had a baby along," she commented, watching Willie out of the corner of her eye.

"It's the Collins'," Willie responded. "Only 'bout seven months old."

"Quite a venture fer one so young."

"An' fer her young mama."

"This be her first?"

"No. She's got another one, too. Jest past two years old." Missie thought for a moment.

"She'll have her hands full. Maybe the rest of us women can kinda give her a hand now an' then."

"I'm sure she'd 'preciate thet. There be another woman with the train who might need a hand now an' then as well." Missie's head came up. "Someone not well?"

"Oh, I hope she's well enough--not fer me to know nor say; but she's expectin' a youngun."

"Oh."

Missie flushed slightly and hoped that Willie didn't notice.

"It jest could be thet it'll arrive somewhere along the trail. I talked to the wagon master and he says, 'No worry.' Claims lots of younguns are born on the way West. We have a midwife along, a Mrs. Kosensky. She's delivered a number of babies. Still, iffen it were
my wife--"

"Iffen it were
your
wife?" Missie queried.

"Iffen it were my wife, I'd prefer thet she had a home to do the birthin' in--and a doc on hand, jest in case. In spite of Blake's bold words I still got the feelin' thet he was jest a mite edgy 'bout it all, an' would much prefer to have thet young mother safely into a town and under some doc's responsibility when her time is come."

"He can't be too worried," Missie said, "or he wouldn't have taken her on."

"From what I understand, the fact of the comin' baby wasn't told to Blake until all of the arrangements were made--an' then

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he jest hated to turn them down. They'd already sold their farm back east."

"Then Mr. Blake can't really be faulted, him not knowin'." "Her man knew."

Missie turned away and busied herself in packing the coffeepot and frying pan. "I'm sure she'll be fine. I'll look her up today. What's her name, by the way?"

"Her man's name is Clay. I think it be John Clay, but I'm not right sure 'bout thet."

"Have you seen her?"

"Jest offhand like. Their wagon is one of the first in line. I saw them last night when I was takin' the horses down for water. He was helpin' her down from the wagon. I don't think thet she was out much yesterday."

"She'll get the feel of it," Missie said, but she really wasn't as sure as she sounded. "Maybe she'll walk some today an' I'll get a chance to meet her."

One of the trail guides rode toward them on a rangy big roan with wild-looking eyes. He called out to each driver as he toured the circle, "Let's git those wagons hitched. Time to hit the trail."

Missie studied the big-boned horse, thinking that he looked like he could handle anything; yet she felt a thankfulness that she would never be called upon to ride him.

The men moved almost as one toward the tethered horses. The women hurried with their tasks of repacking each item into the wagons, putting out the fires and gathering their families together. Missie's final tasks were already done so she stood beside her wagon and observed the bustling scene before her.

Again she heard the crying baby. She loved babies; still, she wasn't sure how wise or easy it would be to be heading West with one. She would see if she'd be able to give the young mother a hand.

Her thoughts then turned to the mother-to-be. Missie hoped that today she would be able to meet her. She hoped with all of her heart that all would go well for the young woman; but Willie's expressed concern wrapped itself about her like a restraining garment. J
ust have me a chat with Mrs. Kosensky,
she thought;
she's had experience birthing babies, and she'll know what to do.
Missie's concern evaporated like the morning mist.

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Chapter 4

Traveling Neighbors

Missie made a special effort that day to get acquainted with her traveling companions. Mrs. Collins was not hard to find. Missie simply followed the sound of the crying baby. She located them a few wagons behind her own during the noon-hour break. Mrs. Collins was busy trying to prepare a midday meal for her hungry family. A small boy tugged at her skirt and the baby cried as the young mother jostled her on her hip.

Missie smiled and introduced herself.

"We've already finished eatin'," she said, "an' I was wonderin' iffen I could help with the baby whilst you got yer meal."

"Oh, would ya?" Mrs. Collins said with great relief in her voice. "I'd most appreciate it. Meggie's cryin' most drives me to distraction." She pushed the small boy from her. "Joey, please be patient. Mama will git yer dinner right away--jest you sit down an' wait."

The small boy plopped down on his bottom and began to cry, his voice loud and demanding,

Missie reached for the baby, whose crying seemed to gain