“Oh. I gather he expected to go with you.”
“He did and I had to say no. It is still not all that safe to travel. Worse, he pointed out that I was taking the baby.” She nodded when Rose winced as they reached the main room. “I explained why the baby has to go and why he has to wait. I don’t even have a house to live in. I need to get settled somewhere then I can take him. He doesn’t like the waiting part and I think he is trying to think of a way to persuade me. He had that look.”
“Oh dear,” said Maude. “Don’t worry about him. Me and Rose will keep an eye on him and remind him that it is only a wait.”
“Thank you.”
After getting ready for bed, Abigail crawled beneath the covers and tried very hard to put her concern for Noah aside. Since she was the cause of his unhappiness, it was not easy. She knew she was right. He had to wait for a while. She would work as hard as she could to get herself a place where they could live. A whisper in her mind reminded her that she also needed a husband, but she ignored it as she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
She smoothed out the blankets she had put on the floor of the wagon between her two chests. It was not a proper bed but it would serve well enough. They would not be traveling for too long, she hoped. Matthew’s fever had returned in force and she spent a great deal of time washing him down, desperately trying to erase the heat in him.
As she scrambled out of the wagon she watched as James and Dan carried Matthew out of the infirmary and set him down on the rough bed she had made. The moment they were out of the way she scrambled back into the wagon and covered him over with another blanket. She worried about taking him on a journey in such a condition, but soon the town would be unprotected and she could not make herself believe it would be safe for him. As she climbed onto the driver’s bench she promised herself she would drive as carefully as she could while still moving along at a reasonably fast pace.
Looking at the Beaton house as the wagon rolled by it slowly, she worried about all the ones inside it as well. Maude and Rose stood at the windows and waved, and she waved back. They were smiling even as they wiped away tears, and Abigail decided that was a picture she would hold fast to. She did wish she could take them all but it was not her property they were traveling to. Then James signaled to her to pick up a little speed and Abigail did so. George was an excellent cart horse and she felt confident he would get them where they needed to go. She was just not sure he would get them there very fast.
As the wagon rolled out of town she glanced at Boyd who sat on the seat beside her. The doctor had told her he was beginning to think the young man was afraid to try and move his arm. Whether Boyd was afraid it would prove to be permanently weakened or he just did not wish to heal enough to be thrust back into the fighting, the doctor could not be certain. Abigail doubted even Boyd knew what he was doing and she began to wonder how one fixed such a problem if the doctor was right.
Then despite her best effort to think of something else, anything else, she thought of Noah. She could see him as clearly as if he was standing right in front of her, his puppy in his arms and his eyes shiny with tears. He had watched as she had packed her things and even as she had readied the baby for travel. Even his puppy had stared at her with sad, accusatory eyes. She had done her best to explain to him that she could not take him with her, that there could be a danger in the journey, that she had to settle somewhere first, and that she would come for him as quickly as she could, but he had just walked away. Having seen the thoughtful look that came over his face, the moment he left the room she had grabbed her things and hurried down to the evening meal. She could not shake the feeling, however, that Noah thought her the cruelest woman in the world. Abigail did not know how or when, but she would make it up to him.
“You are looking very sad,” said Boyd. “Going to miss the other women?”
“Of course, but I was actually thinking of Noah. I don’t think he believed me when I tried to tell him I would come back for him especially since I could not tell him exactly when I would do that.”
“Ah, well, he is only five. You can’t give a child some vague time in the future. He wants a day and a time if only so he can keep asking if it is here yet.”
Abigail laughed but stopped quickly and frowned. “You are right, but I couldn’t do that because I had no date or time to give him. It didn’t help that I took the baby anyway. That probably made it seem as if I was lying.”
“Not if you haven’t lied to him before. Young children have to learn to mistrust a person, have a lot of promises broken before they understand not to trust a certain person. I’d wager you haven’t done anything to make him mistrust you. You gave him a puppy.”
“I did. I didn’t tell him I was going to because, well, because puppies can too easily die on you. He is going to be a small dog.”
“Probably not bad for a small boy. He’ll be able to control it.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think young Jeremiah—”
“Stinks.”
Abigail looked back to find Matthew awake and frowning toward the small crate they had made into a bed for Jeremiah. “I’ll pull up in a minute and take care of that.”
James rode up on her side. “Pull into those bushes just up ahead. They will hide the wagon and George. I think something is coming.”
She nodded and headed for the bushes. As soon as she got the cart tucked behind, she unhitched George. Gently she then urged him down on the grass. It was something her father had taught the beast because there was no hiding a huge horse like George. Once he was settled and idly chewing on the grass, she fetched Jeremiah and the bag with his things.
Sitting on the grass, she flipped his blanket over it and then proceeded to clean up the child. She used one of the several buckets of water she had brought to clean up his soiled cloth and set it aside before putting a fresh one on him. Fetching a bottle of goat’s milk from another bucket she proceeded to feed the baby, as much to keep him quiet as because it was about that time. She noticed that the goat she had finally decided to take with them had walked out from under the wagon and was feasting on a bush. Once the child was done she hastily rubbed his back to get the air out while trying to keep his mouth against her shoulder so, if he burped, the sound would be muffled.
Settling the baby back in his bed, she tended to Matthew’s wounds as she struggled to keep herself below the sides of the wagon bed. Nothing had appeared yet, but James was keeping a very close watch on the road, his rifle at the ready. Even Boyd was watching, holding a pistol in his good hand.
“James has a knack. My mother would call it the sight. If he said something was coming, it is,” said Matthew.