Bartered Bride Romance Collection (27 page)

Josh pulled on his jacket and wrapped Bethany’s cloak about her shoulders. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow. Call if you need anything.” He slipped out of the tent, hurried Bethany back to their wagon, and lifted her inside.

The birthing hadn’t gone according to plan. Nettie Harris tried to help out, but she sheepishly admitted to suffering from
la grippe
and scuttled back to her own bed. Spry as Granny Willodene was, by midday, the rains proved too much for her old bones. Bethany had already slipped over to provide some of the savory stew she’d made from those odd meat biscuits, countless pots of coffee, and her own special brand of encouragement. When Granny hobbled away, Bethany volunteered to help. “I can ask Mrs. Green or Idabelle Barnes if you’re uncomfortable.”

To Josh’s surprise, Bethany turned her head to the side and rasped something about Jericho that a rumble of thunder drowned out. By the time he could hear again, she’d pushed past him and knelt by Daisy’s side. Bethany ended up doing far more than hold Daisy’s hand and brew squaw vine tea to ease the pains; she’d actually assisted him with the difficult delivery. She’d done a fine job, too.

Partners. Yes, they’d been a true team, working together. He thought to praise her, but the words died on his lips. She’d taken off her cloak and promptly fallen asleep. He pulled off her wet boots and frowned at the way her damp skirts and petticoats stuck to her ankles. Still, it would be a shame to awaken her; and with a few more days of rain and mud ahead, every last garment they owned was bound to get wet. He took off his jacket and outer shirt. His warmth clung to the fabric. He swaddled her feet and calves in it then curled around her and drew up the quilts. Before he fell asleep, his last thought was that God had blessed him far beyond his dreams by giving him such a dear wife.

“It’s a disaster!” Penny sat on a bench just a few yards from the clothesline Josh had strung between their wagons. Even the sound of the wind luffing the rain-soaked quilts couldn’t muffle her wail.

The storm had taken a toll on everyone’s nerves and possessions. Though inclined to agree, Bethany pasted on a bright smile. “You said the same thing last week when your hem caught fire while we made the beans, but that handsome Dillon Trier patted it out before you got burned. Looked to me like it was a pretty clever way of you asking him to join us for supper.”

Penny blushed prettily, but she wasn’t to be dissuaded. “This is a trouble too great to be borne!”

“Mrs. Throckmorton warned us to be careful about what we prayed for. You always fretted about how dismal your section of the garden grew, but now …” She let her words trail off as she tipped her head toward the soggy sack of flour at Penny’s feet. Scores of tiny green sprouts poked out of it.

“It’s all my fault. I bought middlings instead of finely milled flour.”

“You were trying to be a good steward and economize. That’s admirable. It’s not really a disaster. Josh and I have plenty, and we can always stock up on everything once we reach Fort Kearney.”

“But I can’t accept charity—”

Bethany jolted and stared at Penny in utter dismay. “How could you possibly say such a terrible thing? You’re my sister. That’s not charity; families are supposed to work together.”

Penny brushed a wisp of her golden hair back under her sunbonnet. “Thomas Jefferson said, ‘It is in the love of one’s family only that heartfelt happiness is known.’ ”

Leaning closer, Bethany said, “You know what’s truly astonishing? I’m starting to feel like many of the folks on this train are family. The Cole brothers are like big, bumbling brothers, and Anna Schmitt is the sour-faced aunt who never has a kind word to say. Megan and Emma tend to be watching the children, but they are dear as can be.”

Just then, Lavinia stepped in a mud puddle. “Daddy,
do
something! This is horrid! These boots were from
Paris!
”

“They’ve got mud in Paris, girl,” Granny Willodene barked. “Stop havin’ such a hissy fit. I swan, you’re useless as antlers on a duck. Shake off the mud and help little Katie hang out the bedding.”

“I may be muddy, but I’m not a lowly maid!” Lavinia huffed off.

Bethany turned away and grimaced. “I’m going to have to pray to have a charitable spirit, because I certainly don’t want to claim Lavinia as family!”

“Good.” Penny tapped her foot with emphasis. “If the Millbergs were part of your family and we’re sisters, that would mean they’d be my relatives, too. I couldn’t bear such a disaster.”

“See? It put everything in perspective. Now the silly flour doesn’t seem like such a catastrophe.”

Josh returned from checking on Daisy Sawyer. He set his black leather bag on the wagon seat and playfully nudged Bethany. “I agree. Her Paris boots were no loss. I could have told her my discriminating wife suffered a far greater tragedy when she lost her Italian slippers.”

Bethany tugged a long strip of leather from her pocket. “Speaking of shoes, Zach Sawyer made this replacement for your boot lace.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Oh, it’s all part of being one big family on the trail,” Penny chirped. “As if we aren’t enough, Bethany is adopting nearly everyone.”

Josh scowled. “Being friendly is fine, but you’re going to have to draw some lines. There isn’t enough time and energy to spend on everyone.”

Chapter 9

T
wo days after the storm, Rawhide decided the mud wasn’t enough to greatly hamper their progress, so he pushed the train ahead. The Vermillion loomed ahead. Josh watched as Bethany’s face grew pinched and pale. By the time they reached the banks of the twenty-foot-wide river, he knew he had to do something to give her comfort. He stood behind her, commandingly turned her around, and wrapped her in a tight hold. “I’m here with you.”

“Did Rawhide make it across?” Her voice shook almost as much as she did.

Josh stared intently at their guide as he dismounted midstream and held on to the saddle horn. He and his mount swam the rest of the way across. Rawhide had told the men that if he stayed mounted, they’d ford the river; if he had to swim, the storm swelled the river deeper than four feet, and they’d have to raft across.

“He made it, sweetheart. With God’s help, we will, too.”

Previous trains used the nearby oaks to fashion rafts. Once Rawhide declared those rafts sound, the party started crossing. Each day, the front wagon dropped to the back of the line. Though their wagon sat midway in the train, Josh decided his wife couldn’t withstand the strain of waiting. He gave her a swift kiss and strode ahead.

“Fellows, I know my wagon’s not first, but—”

“Say no more, Doc.” Zach Sawyer slapped him on the shoulder. “You and your missus just hustle right on up here.”

“Much obliged.” Josh went back to his wife. “I’ve got just the spot for you, my Beth.” He cupped her waist and swung her up into their prairie schooner. “Scoot over.”

Bethany shimmied over, and Josh took his place beside her. One of the Cole brothers soothed an ox that seemed a bit fractious then led the team until they were at the river’s edge. Men unyoked the team and sent them across while others pushed the wagon aboard the raft. Part of Josh wanted to help the men, but Bethany needed him. He promised himself that once they made it across, he’d help all of the others.

“Joshua.” Bethany buried her face in his shoulder.

He slipped an arm under her knees and pulled her onto his lap. “First Samuel 22:23 says, Abide thou with me, fear not: for he that seeketh my life seeketh thy life: but with me thou shalt be in safeguard.’ ” He kissed her brow. “Now you say it.”

“I don’t know it.” She trembled.

“It’s a fine one to learn. Come on, sweetheart. ‘Abide thou with me …’ ”

They made it across with her stammering each phrase after him. Pale and shaken, she looked up at him once their wagon hit ground. “We did it.”

“Yes, we did. You can always rely on God’s help, and you can depend on me, too, Bethy-mine.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she slipped her hand around his neck and grazed a kiss on his jaw. His heart sang. Instead of paying attention to everyone else or swooning from her fears, she’d depended on him and appreciated his strength. Though he wasn’t glad of her fear, gratitude for the opportunity to earn her trust and love filled him.

As Josh pitched in to help all of the others across, a verse flitted through his mind.
“In our weakness is he made strong.”
Suddenly, a new sense of God’s love and willingness to support and protect His children overwhelmed Josh. Just as he didn’t mind Bethany’s weakness and wanted to do all he could to give her succor, God willed to do those same things for him.

Someday, if God blessed them, Josh would be that same way with their own children.

Twelve feet of water fell in joyous abandon into a crystalline pool. Bethany sat at the edge and soaked her feet. Being barefoot felt decadent, but all of the women were doing it together after finishing laundry.

Rawhide ordered the men to top off all of their water barrels. Fresh and sweet as it tasted, most men completely emptied their barrels, rinsed, and refilled them at an adjacent pool. Chafed by having to wait for the train ahead of them to cross the Big Blue, Rawhide paced between the men and women, spitting tobacco and grumbling under his breath.

“Alcove Springs.” Emma Harris read the eight-inch-high chiseled words aloud. “One of my books says the Donner party—”

“Hush!” Rawhide rasped. “No one mentions them. Bad luck. Bad luck.” He shook his head, scowled, and stomped off.

Noticing her friend’s crestfallen look, Bethany swept her left foot in the water and splashed her. “You’re going to have to read different material. I have something new—a thing by Beadle called a dime novel. It’s the very first one, written by Ann Stephens,
Malaeska
. I read it during the storm. Would you like to borrow it?”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Emma’s eyes shone.

“It’s a dashing story,” Penny chimed in.

“Humph,” Lavinia sniffed. “I’ve seen you reading
Arabian Nights
. That was bad enough. A novel? And it cost a measly dime? Why, I would never read such trash. It’s obviously morally inferior.”

Irritated by Lavinia’s judgmental ways and airs, Bethany pursed her lips then perked up. “There’s Parson Brewster. Perhaps we could ask his opinion on the matter.”

The parson listened then rubbed his chin for a moment before saying, “I’m a firm believer in bettering the soul. If you’ve spent generous time in Bible reading and devotions, though, I trust the Lord wouldn’t frown upon His children improving their minds or lightening their hearts with either educational or pleasure reading.”

“Thank you, Parson Brewster,” Bethany and Penny said in unison.

After he walked off, Lavinia pulled her feet out of the water, stood, and stuck her nose up in the air. “I don’t care. I refuse to sully my mind.”

“At least she’s consistent,” Penny muttered. “She didn’t like sullying her boots, either.”

Bethany flopped backward and dissolved into guilty laughter. “Oh, Penny! That was much nicer than what I was thinking. I wondered if she really has much of a mind at all!” After she stopped laughing, she shielded her eyes from the sun and moaned, “Lavinia might be right: I’d better spend more time reading my Bible. It’s much too easy to be catty.”