Wagon Train Reunion

He ground his fist into the soft spot beneath his ribs but it did nothing to ease the pain lodged there. He didn’t wish for anyone to deal with such grief. He’d seen how deeply it had affected Grayson, driving him away from the family.

Ben missed him every day of his absence and anticipated their reunion.

All too soon the mothers called their children to them and prepared them for bed. While Abby had entertained the children, the menfolk had set up tents next to their wagons where their families would sleep.

Emma had prepared the tent she and Rachel would share. He’d sleep under a piece of canvas or just roll up in a bedroll under the wagon.

Abby and her father struggled to put up their tents. It appeared the older Binghams would share one tent and Abby would sleep in another.

After watching their vain attempts for a few minutes, Ben trotted over to assist.

“We can manage just fine, thank you,” Mrs. Bingham told him, though she didn’t lift a finger to help.

“I can’t quite figure it out,” Mr. Bingham said as if his wife hadn’t uttered a word.

“Here. Take this rope and stake it out there about three feet. Be sure and angle the stake away from the tension so it stays in the ground.”

In a few minutes, the tent was up. Mr. Bingham assisted his wife inside. Ben turned to Abby. His first instinct was to offer her help. But the knot in his heart warned him to give her a wide berth.

She grabbed a hammer and stake. “I watched you and Father. I think I can do it.”

He’d watch for a moment then leave her be.

She drove in the first stake but when she tried to do the one opposite it, the rope kept escaping her. She laughed. “It’s as slippery as a snake!”

How could he walk away from her need? What kind of neighbor would he be if he did? What sort of committeeman? His insides warred between responsibility and a desire to get as far away from this woman as possible.

Duty won out. Duty would always win.

He caught the errant rope and secured it. “It works better with a little help.” He had no doubt she’d get the hang of it soon enough. In the meantime, he had no choice but to lend a hand. His gut twisted. How could he put distance between them when they were to share mealtimes and only one wagon separated his from the Binghams?

He straightened and took one step back and then another.

“Thank you for helping,” Abby said. “I’ve been wanting to ask after your father. How is he?”

Ben pulled his thoughts into some semblance of order. “He never recovered.” The shock of losing everything had caused him to have a stroke. “He died last year.” That said so little of the long years of watching his declining health and how it had impacted all of them. “Emma nursed him.”

“I’m sorry.” She turned to his sisters who watched the proceedings. “My condolences.” She tipped her head to Emma. “I could tell when you helped little Johnny that you are a skilled nurse.”

“Thank you,” Emma said.

Rachel still looked rather unfriendly.

Abby, to her credit, appeared unaffected by Rachel’s expression and spoke to her. “You’ve grown up since I last saw you. In a very good way.”

Rachel gave a half smile.

Abby nodded and bent her attention to the hammer in her hand.

Ben dropped his arms to his sides and opened his mouth, prepared to scold Rachel for her rudeness but before a word left his mouth, Abby spoke.

“I venture to say we’ll all change before this trip is over.” She fixed Rachel with one of her piercing looks that he suddenly remembered with startling clarity. Anyone but Rachel would have flinched before those flashing eyes, but Rachel didn’t even blink.

“T’would be good if we didn’t forget the lessons of the past.” No mistaking Rachel’s meaning. She’d already made it clear she feared Ben would be hurt again and her words were meant as a warning to him as well as to Abby.

But she needn’t worry about Ben. He’d learned his lesson when it came to Abby and he wasn’t fool enough to want to repeat it. He might be forced to share their mealtime, even help her with some of the camp chores.

But he would never again be so foolish as to think she could care for him.

Chapter Four (#ulink_85ae66e1-8baa-5378-b608-2479850a0621)

With a murmured goodnight, Abby slipped into her tent. Her insides coiled with so many thoughts. Ben had never married. His father had passed away. How hard that must be. Ben had always been close to his father and brother. Grayson wasn’t in the group. Had he stayed behind? That would be a doubly hard goodbye for Ben.

She tumbled the thoughts and questions round and round in her head in an attempt to ignore Rachel’s warning. Her meaning was unmistakable—Don’t hurt my brother.

Abby had no intention of doing so. She’d stay as far away from him as possible. She’d burned that bridge six years ago when she informed him she’d chosen Frank over him. Wanting to cut herself from his thoughts, she said Frank had more to offer—possessions, position, power.

She pressed a hand to her stomach as she thought of the cruel, unkind things he’d given instead.

Ben’s response had been, “I wish you all the best and I trust your marriage vows will mean more to you than the words you spoke to me.”

She knew exactly what he meant. They’d secretly confessed their love to each other. They’d planned to announce it to the world when she turned eighteen. She’d warned him her parents, Mother especially, would object, but had said she wouldn’t let those objections change her mind.

But she had. So much guilt had filled her that she was unable to say no to her mother. Not that Mother would have accepted no. Abby would have been forced to follow her parents’ wishes. Far better to go freely and of her own will, though every yes was filled with pain and regret.

“I see I was wrong to trust you. Good to know now rather than later.” Those were Ben’s parting words.

He’d never trust her again. And she couldn’t blame him.

She, on the other hand, had learned after the fact how easily trust could be given to the wrong person. She would not trust her heart to any man ever again.

In Oregon, she’d start over. No regrets over anything in her past.

She tried to get comfortable on the ground but the waterproof ground cover rumpled underneath her. She finally pushed it aside and hoped it wouldn’t rain.

She’d barely fallen asleep when the sentinels fired their rifles, waking everyone up. They’d been warned they would be called at four in the morning to prepare for departure. Abby hurriedly dressed and rolled up her bedding. She fashioned her hair as best she could then dashed outside.

“Vernon.” Mother’s voice came from her parents’ tent. “I simply cannot survive under these conditions. Why, I don’t even have my mirror. Someone stole it right under the nose of that young Hewitt who is supposed to be guarding us.”

“Hush, Martha, do you want the whole camp to hear your complaints?”

Abby glanced around. Emma and Rachel were already tending the fire and from the looks on their faces, it was obvious they’d heard every word and did not appreciate Mother badmouthing their brother.

Sally crawled from their tent, baby Johnny cradled in one arm. “My, that was a short night. Johnny wouldn’t settle. I did my best to keep him quiet, so he wouldn’t wake the whole camp.” She rushed on at such a rate that Abby knew she meant to turn attention from Mother’s unkind remarks and she silently thanked the woman.

Emma went to Sally’s side. “Do you want me to look at his wound?”

Sally unwrapped the baby in the cool predawn.