mean.”
“Apparently a few got together and told Ezra it wasn’t right for Mr. Cooper and you to travel alone in your wagon.”
“Travel alone in my wagon?” Emma sputtered. “Mr. Cooper has been lying about for a week recovering from an accident. And in case these women forget, this situation was forced upon me. It wasn’t my idea.”
“What’s the matter, Emma?” Davis walked up behind the women.
Sarah glanced between Emma and Davis and shook her head. “Just some petty gossip, nothing to worry about.”
Davis studied her for a minute, then ambled away.
Sarah reached out to touch Emma’s arm. “I just wanted you to know which way the wind is blowing.”
“Okay, thanks.” Emma blew out a breath. “I appreciate it, Sarah.” She ruffled Stephen’s baby fine blond hair. How she would have loved a son of her own. But now that her courses had arrived, dashing her hopes one final time, that would probably never happen. She sighed and waved to Sarah as she left.
Slowly the front wagons began moving, so Emma quickly put the remainder of the meal things in the back of the wagon. Davis gingerly climbed up on the seat and worked the animals from there while Emma walked alongside the wagon.
Another week passed with a similar routine. Every day Davis grew stronger, and didn’t wince anymore. Emma worried he would be returning to scouting soon, and frankly confused why Ezra hadn’t demanded Davis resume his duties.
She found Davis to be good company. He didn’t talk much, but worked long and hard. Most evenings they sat together in front of the fire. Davis would roll a cigarette and blow smoke rings in the air. Sometimes he would share a little bit of his life before the wagon train. He spoke briefly about the fire that claimed his mother and sister. Sensing it was still a tender spot for him, she didn’t ask for more than he offered.
Emma shared details about her home in Indiana, and why she wanted to go back. Although Davis was sympathetic, he never missed an opportunity to suggest that returning to her parents was foolish.
“A woman grown goes where her husband decides.” He stirred the embers of the fire with a stick, sparks shooting into the inky sky. “Unless I’m mistaken, that’s part of the marriage ritual.”
Emma bristled. “Well I’m here, aren’t I? I did go where my husband wanted. And what good did it do me? And now why should I stay if my husband is dead?”
Davis dropped the stick, and leaned back against a tree trunk, crossing his arms. “It appears you have no choice right now but to stay.” He graced her with that now familiar lazy grin and butterflies took flight in her stomach.
Slowly the fire died out, and he crawled under the wagon. Emma retired to the wagon for the night, her mind in a whirl about her circumstances, and the annoying unwanted reaction her body had to that man.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About five o’clock the following evening after a long, tiring day, Ezra called a halt to the wagon train. Weary travelers climbed from wagons and off benches, stretching sore muscles and rubbing aching feet. The wagons formed a circle and the animals released. The air was a bit cooler here, and Emma noticed a lovely creek about a half a mile from where they were camped. The possibility of seeing to laundry and enjoying a bath immediately perked her up.
Elizabeth and Abigail hustled over, excitedly chattering about Ezra’s decision to stay over an extra day so the ladies could make good use of the creek.
Davis unhitched the oxen and moved them to the area set up for the animals. Emma went in search of Ezra to ask when the ladies could bathe. The thought of cool water rushing over her dusty, dirty skin had her happier than she had been in a long while.
“Howdy, Miz Thorpe.” Ezra tipped his hat. “You seem to be in a mighty hurry. What can I do for you?”
“Have arrangements been made yet for the ladies to receive some privacy so we can bathe?”
He laughed out loud.