Wed On The Wagon Train

Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Save your thanks until we see if I can make anything edible,” the younger girl advised.

* * *

After constructing a temporary enclosure to house his horses for the night, Josiah headed toward the circle of wagons. Slipping between the tailgate of one and the tongue of another, he entered the ring and recognized Matt and his sister at the nearest campfire.

The boy squatted, feeding a piece of wood into the crackling flames, while Adela stirred a boiling pot.

“Evening,” Josiah greeted.

Adela turned toward him, the action sending her skirt swinging into the fire.

“Watch out!” Josiah reached forward, intent on pulling her out of harm’s way. But it was too late. The flames ignited the edge of the material.

A series of shrieks filled the air, and the girl’s frantic movements hindered Josiah’s attempts to extinguish the fire by smothering it.

Grabbing a large pan from the tailgate, Matt yanked the cover off the water barrel and filled the container, then tossed the water over his sister’s burning skirts, dousing the flames. “It’s out.”

Silence fell as Adela finally stopped screaming.

Several people had hurried over to see what all the commotion was about, but with the danger now past, they returned to their own campfires.

Everyone except Josiah’s brother and sister-in-law.

Rebecca’s eyebrows knit in concern. “Are you all right?”

Adela looked down at herself. “My dress! It’s ruined.” No pain showed in her expression.

Was that because she was unharmed? Or was she in a state of shock?

Matt grabbed his sister and gave her a slight shake. “Never mind about your dress!” Fear raised his voice an octave higher than normal. “Are you burned?” Not waiting for a response, he lifted the sodden, fire-damaged edge of her skirt, wincing at what he saw. “You already have blisters forming.”

A moan slipped past Adela’s lips as the pain finally registered. “It hurts.”

Elias knelt for a quick look. “I have some salve that will help. I’ll go get it.” He stood and hurried away.

Rebecca took Adela by the arm. “Let me help you into the wagon. I’m sure you’d prefer some privacy while Elias tends to your injury.”

By the time the two women disappeared between the canvas flaps, Elias had returned, and he followed them inside.

Anxiety crossed Matt’s face.

“Don’t worry. My brother’s a doctor. Adela’s in good hands.”

“It’s my fault she got hurt. She’s never cooked over an open fire before, but I made her do it.” Moving toward the pot suspended above the flames, he lifted the spoon.

“She’s not used to this kind of life, but she’ll adapt.”

Matt tipped the spoon, and a large blob plopped back into the pot. “I guess it’s pretty obvious all of this is new to us.”

“Well, her attire was a bit of a clue.” The picture Adela Prescott had made perched on the bench seat, like a queen on her throne, still had Josiah shaking his head.

Though sensibly dressed, in contrast, it was clear Matt was just as much a greenhorn as his sister. But Josiah wouldn’t hurt the boy’s pride by mentioning it.

Yesterday, he’d wondered if the kid was hiding something. Today, he’d gotten his answer. Matt was trying to disguise the fact that he didn’t know how to handle life on the trail.

But he was smart—observing others to learn the skills he lacked—and had successfully unhitched the oxen on his own and herded them to the area where the other animals grazed.

Now he stirred the contents of the pot, poking at the charred chunks floating in a thick, mud-colored liquid.

It wasn’t recognizable as food—at least not to Josiah. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“I’m not sure. It’s Adela’s first attempt at cooking. We had servants back in St. Louis, and she never learned to prepare meals.”

“She’ll get the hang of it once she’s had a bit more experience.” Although, right now, it was a toss-up whether she would improve enough to produce edible meals before the Prescotts starved.

“Well, this is definitely past saving.” Matt dropped the spoon, and the wooden handle landed against the edge of the pot with a dull thud.

“What’s past saving?” Rebecca questioned as she climbed down from the covered wagon, followed by her husband and his patient.

“In all the excitement, their dinner was ruined,” Josiah excused, seeing no need to mention the food had been inedible even before it was scorched.

Eyeing the contents of the pot, Rebecca’s eyebrows arched, but she didn’t challenge his claim. “I left a delicious stew simmering over the fire, and there’s enough to share.”

“That’s very kind,” Matt began. “But we couldn’t—”

“We’d love to join you,” his sister cut across him.

His cheeks reddened. “Adela, we can’t impose on the Dawsons.”

“It’s not an imposition,” Rebecca assured. “It will give us a chance to get better acquainted.”

A moment of silent communication passed between the siblings, but finally Matt turned away from his sister’s pleading eyes and nodded his assent. “Thank you for your kind offer, Mrs. Dawson. We appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Rebecca,” she invited. “Come on over whenever you’re ready.”

Josiah walked with Elias and Rebecca back to their covered wagon. By the time Matt and Adela arrived, Rebecca had five bowls of mouth-watering stew dished up.

Everyone took seats around the campfire. Elias said grace, and they dug in.

Matt offered Rebecca a compliment on her cooking.

Adela added her agreement with an appreciative smile. A moment later, the happy expression slipped from her face. “I’ll never be able to make anything half as good as this.”

“Of course, you will,” Rebecca encouraged her. “It simply takes a little practice.”

Adela looked unconvinced, but she didn’t argue, and the conversation turned to other topics.