“The voice of one crying in the wilderness,” Trace muttered.
“What does that mean?” Deb handed Maddie Sue over.
“Nothing.” Trace lifted Maddie Sue up to set her behind Gwen. “The boy crying just reminded me of that verse.”
Maddie Sue giggled. “I’m flying!”
The horse lifted its head and looked at Trace. Trace rested a gloved hand on the horse’s shoulder and looked back. Deb had a real sense that the two were communicating in some way. Like maybe they couldn’t believe what was happening to them.
Well, Deb couldn’t either, so they were all in the same fix.
The little girl’s laughter helped settle Deb’s stomach. She glanced at Trace and said, “There’s still laughter in the world.”
He nodded solemnly as he made sure Maddie Sue was able to hold on securely to Gwen. There was a good-sized pack behind the saddle, and Maddie Sue fit between it and Gwen to the point she had something to rest her back on, not to mention it pinned her snugly in place.
“Will she be all right back there?” Trace asked.
Deb and Gwen exchanged a look. “I think so,” Deb said, “but I’ll bring up the rear and keep watch.”
“No, you won’t. I need to go ahead a bit and study the trail for the tracks of the outlaws. You’d better lead the horse instead.”
“You think you can learn about them by studying their horse tracks?”
He paused, a confused look on his face. “Uh, sure I can. I can identify the horses, tell how much the men weigh. Figure where they’re headed and who’s in charge. I can’t recognize faces, but with the trail they’re leaving, I can find them without trouble.”
“You can do all that from a horse track?”
“You’re new to the West, aren’t you, Deb?”
This would be when Deb should tell him that she could identify one of the men.
“I think you’d better let Deb lead the horse, Miss Gwen. Unless you think you can handle him.”
Deb decided to leave talk of recognizing a murderer until later.
Gwen shrugged and refused to claim a talent she clearly lacked.
“I’ll lead it.” Deb went over to the horse’s neck.
Trace stared his horse in the eye, gave the stallion that shoulder rub, another silent communication.
“Black isn’t used to little ones, nor women. But he’ll let you lead him.”
Had the horse said that? More worrisome, did Trace think the horse had said that?
“I need to get out ahead and read signs before we add any tracks, so if you could lead him that’d help. Be mindful if the kids start crying and such. That might upset Black. If I get ahead tracking, it’ll take me a few minutes to get back, so hang on tight to the reins if that happens.”
“I’ll hang on tight.”
“I’ll make sure her hands aren’t slipping,” Gwen added. Ronnie sat on her lap, happily kicking the saddle his short legs straddled. Again the horse didn’t seem to mind. Gwen hugged Maddie Sue’s arms where they clung around her stomach from behind and spoke quietly to the little girl.
Maddie Sue rested her face on Gwen’s back. “Where Auntie Dee ’n Unca Abe?”
The children had no idea what had happened to the wagon train. Ronnie was too young to speak beyond the most basic words, but included among them were mama and papa.
But Gwen had cared for him so much that he might not realize exactly who his mama was. Maddie Sue was Abe and Delia Scott’s niece, but they’d had her with them all her life. Maddie Sue’s real ma had lived with the Scotts while her husband was gone to war, so Maddie Sue thought of them as parents. But Maddie Sue’s pa—Cameron Scott, Abe Scott’s brother and little Ronnie’s namesake—had fought in the Civil War through the time his daughter was born and his wife died.
Cameron had come home briefly after the war ended, and the family made their plans. Cameron would go west ahead of them to serve the army on the western frontier and, while doing that, scout out ranchland for all of them. Cameron, along with his sister Penelope—who had also lived in the tiny attic with Abe and Delia and worked to support the family as much as Abe—had gone. It had taken two years, but finally Cameron had written to them with directions to find him, and they’d set out. And they’d needed help with the two little ones, so they’d allowed the Harkness sisters to ride along and tend the children in exchange for passage.
Cameron Scott was out there somewhere waiting for his family with no idea of the tragedy that had befallen them. Right now the children had no one but Gwen and Deb. And Trace Riley.
The children’s lives would go on. Grief and regret weighed on her heart. The Scotts were fine people. Loving, hardworking, with a deeply honorable belief in helping those in need. “The least of these,” Delia Scott sometimes called them. That attitude had helped them agree to let Deb and Gwen come along on the trail west.
How could little Ronnie ever know what fine people his parents were? He almost certainly couldn’t. But Deb was determined, if she ended up in a position to do so, to help keep memories of the Scotts alive for Ronnie and Maddie Sue.
But how could she do that when they were to meet Maddie’s father at the end of this journey? Deb would need to hand the children over to him and ride away forever. And while she was worried about abandoning the children, she wondered how she’d ever make it to Cameron Scott. How could she let anyone know what had become of them?
It was too much to contemplate when she wasn’t even sure
