Wagon Train Reunion

He turned his attention back to his duties.

“The bank’s been robbed!” A young man rode through the crowd shouting, “Fifteen thousand dollars missing from the new safe.”

Men crowded around the rider. “Anyone hurt?”

“Did they find the thief?”

“Did he come this direction?” When the answers were no, the people were relieved to know the robbery would not involve them and returned to preparing for the journey.

The noise swelled with laughter, cries and shouts. Dust rose from the trampled ground. The smell of animals and woodsmoke tinged the air.

Mrs. Bingham had been riffling through a box of things at the back of the wagon. She straightened and signaled Ben, who rode over, his heart heavy. Whatever the woman wanted, he suspected it would be less than pleasant.

“My gilded mirror is missing.”

Ben nodded. “You’ve misplaced it?”

“I have not. It’s been stolen.”

Ben sighed heavily. Such accusations without evidence served only to instill anxiety and mistrust among the travelers.

Mrs. Bingham drew herself up and gave him a demanding look. “Aren’t you in charge of this group?”

“I am.”

“First the bank and now a bunch of innocent, defenseless travelers. I suggest you do your job and find the thief or thieves.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Though he wondered if any of their group were defenseless. Everyone had a pistol or a rifle or both. All had axes and shovels. And he wasn’t about to ride around demanding to know if someone stole a mirror. Likely the woman had misplaced it.

But he would do his job and keep a close eye on the Bingham wagon lest someone had targeted them as having valuable contents among their belongings.

Abigail returned to the wagon at that point. “Mother, what’s wrong?”

Mrs. Bingham grabbed Abby’s arm. “I’ve been robbed and this man is doing nothing about it. It appears to me he’ll help only those he chooses to.”

“Mother, we simply don’t have time to worry about it right now. Everyone is ready to leave.”

Ben rode away and didn’t look back. Abigail was every bit as much under her mother’s thumb as she’d ever been. Ben would not likely forget Mrs. Bingham did not approve of him. Therefore, Abigail didn’t, either.

* * *

Abigail didn’t have time to deal with her mother’s fussing. Their journey was about to begin and she couldn’t wait to get started. The future beckoned.

She joined her father beside the oxen.

“Well, daughter, we are about to see if your banker father can manage these huge beasts.”

“You sound excited.” Her own heart beat a rapid tattoo as she waited for their wagon to join the procession.

Ben sat on his horse, supervising the departure. He looked calm and in control.

She shifted her gaze away from him to the wagons rolling out ahead of them. He traveled with his sisters. They must be so proud of him. And to think she might have been the one whose heart swelled with pride—

No. A life shared with him might have been filled with unexpected sorrow. She’d learned her lesson well enough not to care to repeat it.

“Come, boys,” Father said, and the oxen moved out, following the others.

Abby laughed from sheer excitement.

Inside the wagon, Mother clung to her chair.

“Mother isn’t happy about this adventure,” Abigail commented.

“She’s afraid of change, but we need it. We need to get over Andrew’s death.”

Abby’s heart dipped. As always, guilt stung her at the mention of his name.

Father continued. “It’s time to put his death behind us and look to the future.”

“Is that possible?” If it still controlled them after ten years how was a trip going to change anything?

“I hope it is,” her father said. “I believe this trip will change us all.”

Abby hoped for the same, but change often came on the heels of adversity. She didn’t have to think very hard to find it so in her life. Her future had changed when Andy died. Again when the Panic struck and yet again when Frank died. And who could foretell which events would result in good and which ones in sorrow? Father God, let this trip result in good for all involved.

Sam Weston rode by. “Everyone ready?”

A roar of agreement answered him.

He rode on. “Wagons, ho.”

Slowly the long line of wagons began to move.

Hundreds of people lined the route, waving flags and cheering them on. One lady ran forward and pressed a package into Abigail’s hands.

“Some baking for the trip. God speed and safe travels.”

Abby held the woman’s hands for a heartbeat, and as the wagon lumbered away, she turned to wave goodbye.

Goodbye to the past.

Hello to the future.

She strained to see the way ahead, her heart pounding out the rhythm of the words as she waved and smiled at those sending them off.

Then they left behind the well-wishers and headed West.

Whatever the future held, it had to be better than the past. Her heart settled into place, feeling more hopeful than it had for so long she couldn’t remember the last time.