distance—scared, I suspect. Her ma didn’t know who her pa was.”
“What happened to Harper’s mother?”
“Potter, the man who tended garden at the orphanage, didn’t want Harper’s ma coming around much. Seems she took men home with her—men she didn’t marry. After a while she stopped trying to see Harper. Don’t anyone know what happened to her. She left one day, and nobody’s seen her since.”
Turning, Glory smiled at Mary. “And you? What happened to your folks?”
Mary sighed. “The cough. My folks were on their way to California, and I was so sick they couldn’t take care of me. Ma was afraid I’d die, so she wrote me a note and told me how much she loved me, but that she loved me enough to want me to live. They went on, and I stayed behind.” Glory thought she saw moisture in Mary’s eyes now. “Don’t blame them—I cough all night and keep everyone awake.”
“Must have been a real hard decision for your ma and pa.”
Nodding, Mary huddled deeper into her blanket. “Patience’s folks were killed by a band of renegade Indians when their farm was raided. A young squaw brought her to the orphanage one day. She knew she was in danger of being killed herself, but she brought the baby anyway. Patience was scared and had dirtied her britches. Took a long time for her to warm to folks. She likes to talk to birds—you noticed that?”
Glory nodded. She’d seen Patience talking to a sparrow behind the mercantile earlier that day. Her eyes moved tothe one in the group who interested her most. “What about Mr. Lincoln?”
Mary smiled, opening her eyes. “Nice-looking man, isn’t he?”
Glory shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Nice-looking and kind. The kind of man a papa would want for a daughter.”
“Is he married?”
“No, he’s soured on women. We consider ourselves lucky to have him leading us. Supposed to be the best wagon master around. Don’t think he would have taken the job at all if he hadn’t been a close friend with Mr. Potter. Jackson leads large trains—hundreds of people—to California and Oregon, but Mr. Potter wrote and told him about our situation and how he needed to get us to Colorado safely because Mr. Wyatt had good husbands waiting for us. The orphanage is too crowded for us older ones. I suspect Jackson didn’t want the job or the responsibility of five young women, but Mr. Potter had done him a favor once, and Jackson nearly had to agree. Think he’s afraid that we’ve gotten off to a late start, and he’s worried about early fall snows.”
Glory frowned. “Is it time for the snows to come?” It seemed so hot; it was hard to think about cold weather.
“No, they’re months away, but Colorado is a long way off, and it snows early in the Rockies.”
Jackson got up and turned down the lantern. Glory knew it was time for her to leave. Getting to her feet, she said good-bye for the last time, knowing she would never seethe group again. The thought hurt almost as bad as losing Poppy.
Jackson saddled his horse and took her the short distance to town. Concern filled his eyes when she slid from the animal to the ground, clutching her pack. Gazing up at him, she wished with all of her might that she didn’t need her freedom so bad. His eyes fixed on hers and caused that funny feeling to erupt in her stomach.
His features sobered. “I respect your decision, but I think you should come with us, Glory. Squatter’s Bend is no place for a young woman alone.”
“I’m much obliged, Mr. Lincoln—”
“Jackson. Remember?”
“I remember. Jackson.” She took a deep breath, liking the sound of his name on her lips. “I need to do this on my own.”
Nodding, he tipped his hat. “You’re a mighty brave young lady.” Flanking his horse, he gave a friendly wave and rode off.
Not brave at all, she corrected, turning around to view the town of Squatter’s Bend. It looked as scary as it had the night before, only scarier now, since she knew that not a mile
“What happened to Harper’s mother?”
“Potter, the man who tended garden at the orphanage, didn’t want Harper’s ma coming around much. Seems she took men home with her—men she didn’t marry. After a while she stopped trying to see Harper. Don’t anyone know what happened to her. She left one day, and nobody’s seen her since.”
Turning, Glory smiled at Mary. “And you? What happened to your folks?”
Mary sighed. “The cough. My folks were on their way to California, and I was so sick they couldn’t take care of me. Ma was afraid I’d die, so she wrote me a note and told me how much she loved me, but that she loved me enough to want me to live. They went on, and I stayed behind.” Glory thought she saw moisture in Mary’s eyes now. “Don’t blame them—I cough all night and keep everyone awake.”
“Must have been a real hard decision for your ma and pa.”
Nodding, Mary huddled deeper into her blanket. “Patience’s folks were killed by a band of renegade Indians when their farm was raided. A young squaw brought her to the orphanage one day. She knew she was in danger of being killed herself, but she brought the baby anyway. Patience was scared and had dirtied her britches. Took a long time for her to warm to folks. She likes to talk to birds—you noticed that?”
Glory nodded. She’d seen Patience talking to a sparrow behind the mercantile earlier that day. Her eyes moved tothe one in the group who interested her most. “What about Mr. Lincoln?”
Mary smiled, opening her eyes. “Nice-looking man, isn’t he?”
Glory shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Nice-looking and kind. The kind of man a papa would want for a daughter.”
“Is he married?”
“No, he’s soured on women. We consider ourselves lucky to have him leading us. Supposed to be the best wagon master around. Don’t think he would have taken the job at all if he hadn’t been a close friend with Mr. Potter. Jackson leads large trains—hundreds of people—to California and Oregon, but Mr. Potter wrote and told him about our situation and how he needed to get us to Colorado safely because Mr. Wyatt had good husbands waiting for us. The orphanage is too crowded for us older ones. I suspect Jackson didn’t want the job or the responsibility of five young women, but Mr. Potter had done him a favor once, and Jackson nearly had to agree. Think he’s afraid that we’ve gotten off to a late start, and he’s worried about early fall snows.”
Glory frowned. “Is it time for the snows to come?” It seemed so hot; it was hard to think about cold weather.
“No, they’re months away, but Colorado is a long way off, and it snows early in the Rockies.”
Jackson got up and turned down the lantern. Glory knew it was time for her to leave. Getting to her feet, she said good-bye for the last time, knowing she would never seethe group again. The thought hurt almost as bad as losing Poppy.
Jackson saddled his horse and took her the short distance to town. Concern filled his eyes when she slid from the animal to the ground, clutching her pack. Gazing up at him, she wished with all of her might that she didn’t need her freedom so bad. His eyes fixed on hers and caused that funny feeling to erupt in her stomach.
His features sobered. “I respect your decision, but I think you should come with us, Glory. Squatter’s Bend is no place for a young woman alone.”
“I’m much obliged, Mr. Lincoln—”
“Jackson. Remember?”
“I remember. Jackson.” She took a deep breath, liking the sound of his name on her lips. “I need to do this on my own.”
Nodding, he tipped his hat. “You’re a mighty brave young lady.” Flanking his horse, he gave a friendly wave and rode off.
Not brave at all, she corrected, turning around to view the town of Squatter’s Bend. It looked as scary as it had the night before, only scarier now, since she knew that not a mile
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