She said all, but her eyes seemed only for the doctor, who gazed back at her with a look that made Lark swallow.
Lord, thank you so much that Sythia is better. But what are we going to do about this?
20
They’d made it.
Lark stopped the oxen and heard Del and the doctor do the same behind her with the other wagons. Before them, the late afternoon sun slanted its rays over the growing town of Salton, nestled on a grassy plain along the Salt Creek.
“Is this it?” Lilac hurried up, pushing back her sunbonnet to see better. The children trailed at her heels.
“That’s Salton. And Salt Creek.” Lark nodded to the creek flowing to the east of them. “The salt flats must be that way. Let’s make camp here. I’ll head into town in the morning.”
And find that attorney Anders had written them about. Lord, are we close to getting our land? The thought lent wings as she unyoked the oxen and hobbled them to graze.
Del approached, Mikael snug in his sling against her, and shaded her eyes against the setting sun. “Interesting landscape. So different from most waterways. There’s fewer trees.”
“The salt in the water, probably.” Lark bent to examine the plant growth along the creek bank. “Look at these. They’re kind of like asters.” She caressed the purple blooms with her fingertips.
Dr. Brownsville approached, Forsythia leaning on his arm. Though still weak, her smile made Lark’s heart sing. The extra week of rest had helped, and though it had taken three days to get to Salton, traveling slowly, Sythia didn’t look any the worse for wear.
“What a beautiful sunset.” Forsythia sighed. “It’s so nice to see something outside the canvas cover again.”
The doctor moved his hand to cover hers on his arm, a tender gesture that quickened Lark’s heart.
“Let’s start supper.” Del gave Lark and Lilac a significant look and nodded toward the campsite.
“What are we going to do about that?” Lark whispered, following her sisters. Behind them, the doctor and Forsythia talked in low tones under the gathering dusk.
“What?”
“Them.”
“I think it’s lovely, don’t you?” Lilac scooped Sofie up and kissed her cheek, which was now filling out a bit with good food and milk.
“But he’s only just lost his wife. It seems too soon.”
Del stirred cornmeal and flour for a quick corn pone. “Perhaps. But sometimes these things happen.”
“Maybe.” Lord, I just don’t want my sister to get hurt.
The next morning, Lark saddled Starbright to head into Salton.
“Could you use some company?” The doctor looked up at her from under his best hat.
“I—don’t think so.” She didn’t mean to be rude, but the lawyer would be expecting Miss Larkspur Nielsen, and she wasn’t ready for that conversation in front of the doctor. Though they’d need to let him in on the secret sometime, the way things were looking. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on everyone in the camp.”
He stepped back and nodded politely, though perhaps wondering why she suddenly considered her sisters helpless females.
Lark clicked her tongue and nudged Starbright toward the town, the morning sun warm on her shoulders. Lord, help me find this man. And guide us to the place you have for us.
Salton wasn’t much of a town, but several shops, a mercantile, a bank, and two saloons lined the main dirt road, with a church at the end. Lark tied up Starbright in what seemed to be the general area of the address Anders had sent and strode along the raised wooden sidewalk, its heavy planks foreign beneath her boots after weeks on the trail.
Here—this should be it. Anders’s letter in hand, she scanned the unassuming shop front. A small lettered sign in the window read Henry P. Caldwell, Attorney-at-Law.
Here we go, Lord. She pushed open the door, jingling a friendly bell.
“Good morning.” A man with dark sideburns and spectacles looked up from behind a large wooden desk. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so, sir.” Lark stepped forward, her palms suddenly sweaty. “I believe you know my brother, Anders Nielsen. He suggested I come see you about some land a homesteader had for sale.”
“Anders Nielsen, yes.” Mr. Caldwell removed his spectacles and studied her. “But who would you be?”
“Clark—that is, Larkspur.” Lark swallowed and removed her hat. “Miss Larkspur Nielsen, sir.” How do I explain this whole morass?
The attorney’s brows rose, and he pushed to his feet. “Well, that explains my surprise. Anders told me his sister would be coming to see me. He failed to mention she would bear more resemblance to a brother.” He limped forward and extended his hand. “Please have a seat, Miss Nielsen.”
“Thank you, sir.” With that revelation out of the way, Lark breathed a bit easier. She sank into the upholstered chair Caldwell indicated. “I hope you aren’t too shocked.”
“It takes a good deal to shock an old soldier like me.” The attorney eased back into his own chair with a faint groan. “Forgive me. Minié ball took off my leg at the Battle of Franklin. A true blessing, these prosthetic limbs, but never quite the same as God’s original. But you don’t need to hear all that.” He leaned back and smiled. “So, if I may ask, why the”—he waved a hand toward her—“disguise?”
“Safety, sir. We thought it best to appear as a man traveling with his sisters, rather than as four women alone. I did the same when I went to get Anders out of that prison camp.”
“Of course. Now I remember Anders mentioning that part of the story.” Caldwell steepled his fingers and pressed them to his chin. “He was one of the men in my company, you know, taken prisoner just after I was wounded. I blamed myself, that I wasn’t there to protect my men as an officer should be. Thank God you got him out of that place.”
“We do. Every day.”
“So.” He slapped his
