Blessing in Disguise by Lauraine Snelling

carrying. Would they arrive in Blessing before the storm hit?
    She watched as the man who’d come for her strode back from the station house.
    A cool wind blew at her skirts and rustled the leaves above. The horses flicked their tails at the flies. She turned her face to the breeze, wishing she could take off her jacket and raise her arms. But that wasn’t seemly in the least, not in this place where she knew no one, grateful as she was that someone seemed to know her and to expect her.
    He smiled at her again as he untied the horses and climbed up in the wagon. He turned them in a tight circle and headed back for the station.
    Surely he was going for her trunk.
    Thank God the crates came in , Kane thought. He glanced at the clouds again. They seemed to be staying south of the town. Maybe they’d clear by the time they were ready to head out. He backed the wagon up to the loading dock and wrapped the reins around the brake handle. Motioning her to stay seated, he gave her a smile that evoked one in response.
    At least they could smile at each other. Augusta wondered if anyone in town spoke Norwegian. If only she had taken her brother’s advice and learned American. Some of it, a bit, anything. She felt as if her face might crack from smiling. She buried the nigglings of fear under an avalanche of smiles. She watched as they loaded wooden crates into the bed of the wagon, all the time wondering what it was. The two men shook hands, and her stranger returned to the seat of the wagon.
    “We are going to Blessing now?” she asked. If only he could understand her.
    “I agree. Such a blessing.” Why is she so locked on blessing? Kane wondered. “As soon as we pick up the supplies from the general store here, we’ll go to the justice of the peace.” He accompanied his words with a broad smile, grateful for the one in return. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, her dark lashes accenting the blue. Oh, the blue of her eyes.
    He drew his gaze away with an effort.
    More things were loaded into the wagon, filling up the spaces in and around the machinery.
    “My trunk. Where will my trunk go?” She looked from the wagon back to the station platform. Even though her trunk was small, she’d not seen it unloaded from the train. Had it gotten lost? Would it come later? What would she do for clothing in the meantime?
    Kane shrugged. If only he could understand her. Something sure had gotten under her smile. Her eyes darkened like the sky before a storm. He followed her pointing finger back to the train platform and then tried to decipher her hand motions. Something long and deep and square.
    “A box?” He mimicked her motions.
    She nodded, and lo and behold the sun returned. “Ja, my trunk.”
    “Ah.” He nodded, motioned her to wait, and headed back to the depot.
    “Sorry, nothing came in with that name on it,” the stationmaster said. “In fact, your windmill and some things for the store and the hotel were all the freight this time. Real low what with harvest starting. All I can say is check back with us tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow I’ll be halfway home, and the lady will be without her things.” Kane shook his head. It wasn’t like he could run into town anytime he pleased. Should they stay over? He kept on shaking his head.
    “I could have someone going out your way bring it to you when it comes. Sometimes these things happen, you know.”
    “Guess that will have to do. I got to get on home. That binder breaks down again, and no one else there can fix it.” If only he had taught Lone Pine the intricacies of the limping binder.
    When he got back to the wagon, he made the box motions again, shrugged, and shook his head. “It’ll come later.”
    The look in her eyes said clearly she didn’t understand. So he said it louder.
    Why is he yelling at me? Where is my trunk? Augusta chewed on her lip. So she would just have to make do. Obviously her trunk would come on a later train, and they would just have to . . . just