Still, a husband might solve a lot of herproblems. How did she go about finding a man that could loveher?
If Wes wasn't such a drifter, maybe—
No, it was much too soon, and she needed towork things out herself. Relying on a man was the last thing sheneeded.
Yet, she knew she was relying on Wes, and itseemed every day they got a bit closer. She'd confided too much inhim already.
She only wished he weren't such a drifter.There were a lot of things she liked about Wes. First, he was Godfearing, one thing Jim was not. He was clean too as he'd take abath in the pond in the back pasture every other day. And when hesmiled at her, her insides fluttered. She'd never had bodilyreactions to Jim. She was quickly learning that not all men werebeasts either.
That had never happened before. Sheremembered how in the barn, Wes had held her close and his lipsfeather touched her forehead. And then how he'd turned awayquickly. But that kiss on the wagon was embedded in her mind. Itwas warm, and soft and gentle and her heart was hammering so, whenshe pulled away.
No one had ever kissed her like that. Eventhough she had initiated the kiss, he had responded and that hadshocked her a bit. She hadn't expected him to respond.
She couldn't fall in love with him, hewasn't the kind of man to stay in one place long. But she couldn'tstop the fluttering of her heart when he looked directly at her,either. And sometimes, he really looked at her.
Jim had never bragged on her looks, or herability to run a home either. But she knew the place looked better.She was not a beautiful woman, but she knew she wasn't completelyugly either, even though Jim had never said a word about how shelooked, no matter how hard she tried to look nice.
The one thing she could do is learn all shecould from Wes before he took off for parts unknown. After all, Weswas a drifter, he'd be gone before long and she'd likely never seehim again. She'd confided in him as she thought him a friend butgetting too close might not be wise. He knew too much about women,she was sure of it.
That thought brought a slow burning acheinside her. She knew instinctively how badly she'd miss him when heleft. She couldn't dwell on it. And although she sought love, shedidn't know much about how to find it, either.
Late one evening she wandered out to theriverbanks, to wait for the Mississippi Queen to roll by. The riverhad a calming effect on her, and she let herself relax.
As it passed, she smiled, waved at thepeople, and watched the boat leisurely drift down the river. Shesighed.
"You really like to watch the boats go by?"Wes came up behind her suddenly.
She turned to find him right behind her. Allher nerves came alive. Ever since they kissed, she couldn't get himoff her mind. "Oh, yes, I do. The river is so peaceful, and thepeople look so happy." She said, her voice filled with an emotionshe couldn't define. "I read a lot of books, good books with happyendings. Looking at those boats go by makes me think of them andthat although fleeting, they do exist."
"Never thought about it, like that. Maybeyou should take a ride on one of those boats sometime."
She moved to face him, "It costs money Idon't have and it's just enjoyable to watch." She told himdefensively. "All the ladies have beautiful dresses, which meansthey have money. I would be very out of place on the boat."
"Maybe someday," he murmured.
"Yeah, maybe someday." She smiled.
The crickets were loud, and the frogs seemedto join in their choir. The moonlight drifted through the thicktrees that lined the banks.
When it got too quiet, she looked up at him,"Watching the boats is kind of my escape," she explained.
"Escape from what?"
"From everyday life, from struggling to makeit. From worries. It's like a dream or something, a moment in time,is all." She blushed. "I guess you think I'm crazy."
"No, all of us have our way of escaping. AndI reckon most of us have our dreams."
"Really, what's yours, if you don't mind measking?"
He firmed his lips and leaned against a tallpine, "Looking at the stars at night is my escape." He smiled.
"And what are you escaping?" She askedsoftly.
"My way of life, I guess."
She turned her head in question. "What doyou mean, you’re a drifter, you go where the wind blows you, don'tyou? I would think you have an ideal kind of life. No worries aboutmortgages. No fretting about sick kids. You go where the windblows."
"Yeah, but you can get tired of it too,sometimes. You see a family, with children romping around and yousometimes wonder if that could be yours."
She stared a bit too long as his eyes seemedto sparkle into hers now. Although there was a tension betweenthem, tonight, the tension seemed to melt.
Wes was opening up a little with her and sheenjoyed the fact that she wasn't the only one doing it.
She leaned against another pine and studiedhim in the darkness. "There's nothing that says you have to keepdrifting, is there?"
He came up to her now, staring into hereyes, he reached a hand to softly hold her cheek as his thumbsrubbed her cheeks there gently.
His touch made her quiver with some longingshe didn't quite understand.
"I was wrong," his voice went husky, hiseyes glittering into hers.
Everything suddenly stood still.
"About what?" she barely whispered.
"You're not just pretty," he came a bitcloser.
She held her breath, was he going to kissher?
"You're beautiful." He said, taking his handaway and turning to leave her agape.
"Wes, I…. "
"Goodnight." He smiled, tipped his hat, andleft.
He was the kind of man who left tidbits ofhimself here and there and walked away before anyone could tell himit was alright to care about things.
Did he care?
And why had he touched her like that, sogently, his eyes glittering into hers. What did he really want tosay to her? Or was she merely
