Two Hearts on the Wagon Trail (Preview)

Chapter One

“Brock! Where are you?”

Brock stuck his head over the side of the loft space and saw his father in the workshop below. He was standing in the doorway, looking out into the street with his hands on his hips.

“Where on earth is that boy?” The older man’s words floated up to Brock. “He just disappears when he thinks he can.”

“Is something the matter, Father?” Brock called.

Eugene Price spun around, his eyes searching the workshop. Then he looked up and caught sight of his son. Sighing heavily, Eugene scowled.

“Are you serious? You’ve been up there all this time?”

“I’ve been sorting out the supplies up here and taking note of the stock. Like you told me to do.”

Eugene grunted. Then he beckoned him over.

“Get down here now. We’ve got a wagon train coming in, and someone went on ahead to tell us that one of the wagons needs tending to immediately. Something about a wobbly wheel and the axle is split.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Brock put the papers he had been using to check their supplies on a hay bale and climbed down the ladder, biting back a sigh at his father’s brusque attitude. It was irritating whenever it sounded like he was talking to a child and not a grown man in his twenties. If his parents had any say in it, they would put reins on him like a horse and tie him to a post so they knew where he was.

It was all well and good to be an only child, but it was something else being an only child when the parents treated their offspring like spun glass. Brock’s mother had had a few miscarriages, a stillborn, and one of his siblings had died in their crib before Brock was born. So they doted on Brock himself, calling him a miracle. It got embarrassing after a while.

Even so, he was happy to help them out with the wagon repair shop. Ohio was on the way to the western states where people were settling down and starting their own families, building a new life. They were always needing repairs, so the family business was always on the go. They weren’t struggling for anything at the moment.

It sounded like a perfect life, starting afresh. Brock had often wondered what it would be like to be away from his parents and striking out alone. However, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave his mother and father behind so easily. They were still his parents, and he loved them despite their often suffocating attitude.

Maybe he could talk to them about it at some point.

“Where’s Mother?” Brock asked as he jumped down from the ladder. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I don’t know, but I can imagine that she’s not too far away.” Eugene rubbed at his chest. “She’s not feeling too good, you know? I think the cold air is getting to her chest again.”

“She was coughing a bit this morning.”

“Trust me, it was worse during the night, but it didn’t last long. I can only hope she doesn’t overexert herself.”

Brock could see his mother doing just that. Gladys Price was a strong-minded, stubborn woman. It was hard for her to let someone else take over, not when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

As Brock reached the main doors, he could see the first of the wagons coming up over the ridge, trundling along happily with horses who looked like they were content with the huge loads they were pulling behind them. Then he saw the trail heading into their small town, and how long it was. God, how many wagons were in the train itself? That was shocking.

“Were you told how many would be in the wagon train?” Brock queried, looking over his shoulder at Eugene. “Because this seems quite a lot.”

“I believe there are about seventy in this one.”

“What? Seventy?”

“There are lots of people who want to go out West, Brock. Everyone is looking for something new.” Eugene shrugged as he walked past his son. “Each to their own, I guess.”

Brock watched as his father went up to the lead wagon, which was being controlled by a strong-looking man with broad-shoulders and long dark hair tied back from his face under his hat. He looked like he had been out in the sun a lot, his skin had a warm golden-brown color. He appeared to be in his forties, from what Brock could tell.

Brock walked out to join his father as the wagon stopped by their shop, and Eugene nodded at the driver.

“I’m Eugene Price.”

“Coleman Wright.” The man’s voice was deep and rumbling in his chest as he stopped the wagon and jumped down. The two of them shook hands. “I’m glad we came upon you. My charges are becoming nervous because of this mishap.”

“What happened?”

“Just a bump in the road, but it was bad enough that it cracked the axle, and the wheel is wobbling a little bit.” Wright shook his head. “It’s enough for us to be worried about it. If that breaks in the middle of our run out to the far West…”

“We’ll take a look at it and get it fixed,” Eugene promised. “The two of us will be able to sort it out in no time.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, we’re going to get behind schedule.”

Brock barely heard Wright’s response because he had just caught sight of who had alighted from the wagon, pushing the sheets aside and jumping out. She was of medium height and lean, looking like she had been out in the sun working hard. She wore men’s trousers and a shirt that had been designed to fit her body better than it would on a man’s. Her long dark hair was loose, falling over one shoulder as she fanned herself with her hat.

He couldn’t stop himself from staring. She was very pretty, with small, delicate features and golden skin that looked smooth and clear of any blemishes. Brock had met attractive girls in the past, but none of them made him forget what he was supposed to be doing.

“Brock!” Eugene nudged him in the ribs, making Brock jump. “Get the tools. Stop standing there with your mouth open.”

“Oh.”

His face getting warm after being caught gawking, Brock hurried back into the workshop and selected what they would need to fix the axle. It was a simple enough job, although they would need more people to help lift the wagon up so they could find, or replace, what was needed. They had done it so many times over the years.

By the time he came back out, the girl was gone. Brock looked around, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. What had just happened? Did he imagine her?

And why was he looking for the girl, anyway? It wasn’t like he was going to get an opportunity to talk to her. Not with his parents breathing down his neck.

“Over here, Brock!” Eugene beckoned him over. “Let’s get on with this, and then these people can be on their way.”

“Coming!”

Brock started toward his father, only to stop when he heard a loud clattering crash behind him that made him jump. The horse nearest him neighed and started getting agitated, with Wright grabbing onto the reins.

“Easy, boy, easy!” He looked at Brock. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” Brock pointed, calling to his father. “It came from the house, Father.”

Eugene’s face went pale, all the color draining from his face.

“Gladys.”

Then he was running, almost knocking Brock over as he charged into the house. It took a moment for Brock to realize what was happening. His mother. She was the only one in the house.

Putting the tools down, Brock held up his hands to Wright.

“We’ll be right back. I promise.”

Then he was running after his father. The front door was wide open, and he could see his mother on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Brock’s heart momentarily stopped, and he clutched at the doorframe to catch himself. Oh, God, was she dead?

“Gladys!” Eugene had dropped to his knees beside his wife. “Gladys, what happened?”

“I…I…” Gladys gasped for air and coughed violently. “I just…fell…down the…down the stairs!”

Then Brock saw the sheets and items of clothing scattered about the floor. His mother must have been taking the laundry upstairs when she lost her footing.

“What’s going on?” Wright’s voice behind him made Brock jump. The wagon driver was on the porch, staring at the woman clutching at her chest. “Is she all right?”

“She just fell down the stairs.” Brock was surprised that he could talk when his head was spinning. “She’s got a weak chest, and the shock…”

“Say no more.” Wright’s expression was grim as he held up a hand. “Do you have a doctor in this town?”

“Yes. Doctor Williams.”

“Where does he live? My Lola will fetch him for you.”

Brock pointed, his hand shaking.

“Down the street and to the right. His surgery is signposted clearly.”

Wright turned to the girl behind him, who had followed them and was watching the scene with wide eyes.

“Go. Quickly.”

Lola didn’t reply, merely taking off at a run. Brock barely watched her go, his chest tight as he nodded his gratitude at Wright.

“Thank you.”

“It seems like you’ve got something to worry about.” Wright turned away. “We’ll take this time to check and restock our supplies while you sort out your mother. We can’t go anywhere with this potential trouble at the moment. But we can’t wait forever. There’s a schedule to keep to.”

“We’ll get back to it as soon as possible,” Brock promised.

But the look on the wagon driver’s face said he didn’t quite believe that as he walked away.

***

Doctor Henry Williams put his equipment away into his bag, talking to Eugene as he sat beside his wife’s side on the bed.

“The fall triggered her breathing troubles again. You were lucky that I came when I did.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say something like that,” Eugene said with a shudder. “You’re making me think the worst.”

“Oh, hush, Eugene,” Gladys said. Her voice was raspy, but at least she wasn’t gasping for air. “I’m fine. It was just an attack.”

“And you’re having a few too many, dear. Especially now that it’s winter and the cold air is really coming in.” Eugene looked up at the doctor. “Does this get any better, Henry? Will she recover?”

“From this attack, Gladys will be up and about in a couple of days. But as for getting better completely…” Doctor Williams shook his head. “You know it’s a permanent thing. The colder it gets, the worse her lungs are. The only way it could recover properly is to move to a warmer part of the country.”

“You know we can’t do that. We are doing well enough, but we don’t have the money to move out elsewhere.”

Brock hovered in the doorway, listening to this. He was aware of his mother’s health problems, and that money was a bit tight, so this was no surprise. At least, it shouldn’t be a shock to him. And yet it still was. His heart squeezed at the sight of Gladys in bed. She was sitting up, but she was still looking pale, and her left ankle was propped up on a pillow with a bandage strapped around it. She had sprained her ankle during the fall, and her body was going to be bruised. How she hadn’t broken anything was beyond him.

And his father looked so shattered. He loved his wife so much that it was sickly sweet, and Brock felt awful seeing the man like this.

“I’m so sorry about this, Eugene,” Gladys said, pressing a hand to her chest as her voice croaked. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s not your fault that this happened,” Eugene said gently, squeezing her hand. “As long as you’re not in any danger.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Doctor Williams headed to the door, nodding at Brock on his way out. “I’ll send the invoice for my services shortly.”

Invoice. Another thing to worry about. Brock gave him a brisk nod, and the man disappeared. Eugene sighed and kissed Gladys’ head.

“We’ll get back to what we were doing. You’ll be all right here, won’t you?”

“Of course I will.” Gladys managed a smile. “Don’t fuss over me. I’m tougher than you think.”

Brock didn’t point out the fact that Gladys didn’t have strong lungs. He didn’t think that he needed to add all of that. He pushed off the doorframe.

“Shall I get started on the repairs, Father?”

“I’ll come with you.” Eugene slid off the bed, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s a job for both of us, and you can’t do it on your own.”

Brock wanted to say that he could cope on his own, but his father clearly needed something to occupy his mind. They headed down the stairs, Brock glancing behind him as he did and almost tripping on the bottom step.

“Don’t you start,” Eugene warned. “It’s bad enough that your mother has hurt herself without you doing it.”

“We need to move her to a warmer climate, Father,” Brock insisted as they stepped outside. “Mother needs it. Her lungs aren’t going to cope with another winter here.”

Eugene rubbed his hands over his face.

“We can’t. We haven’t got the money to move anywhere. And we don’t really have anywhere to go.”

“Why not travel out West? Join a wagon train ourselves, find a place to set up again…”

Eugene was already shaking his head before Brock had even finished.

“We can’t do that. Even if we had the money, what could we do? This is all we’ve ever known.”

“How about we sort that out once we get there?” Brock insisted. “Mother needs it more than anything. Do you think she can get through another winter as she is right now?”

Eugene stopped short and gave his son a glare that made Brock want to run the other way. Even though he was taller than his father, the man still had the ability to scare him.

“I will not hear anything more about this, Brock. You know we can’t afford it. Don’t even think about it again. This is our life, and we’re going to have to make do.”

He then walked away, leaving Brock staring after him. He was aware that Eugene was stubborn and set in his ways, but even he knew that Gladys was going to suffer during the winter. She was always sick, which meant their workload was limited, as Eugene was often at her bedside to look after her. While it was sweet to see it, that didn’t help them get any money in. She could end up dying, and then what?

Brock didn’t want to think about it, but it was always there. He didn’t want to lose his mother, either. What was wrong with helping save her life?

“How’s your mother?”

Brock turned. Wright had sidled up beside him, carrying a sack of what looked like potatoes. Swallowing, Brock shrugged.

“She’s got a sprained ankle, and her lungs are unhappy with all the coughing, but she’ll live.”

“I see.” Wright frowned. “May I ask what’s wrong with her?”

“It’s something she’s had since she was a child. Most of the time, she’s absolutely fine, but when it’s incredibly dusty, or the air is too damp, it sets her off again.” Brock absently rubbed at his chest. “She’s been sick every winter, since before I can remember, in fact. I’m scared that one of these days, it’s going to take her completely.”

Wright’s expression softened.

“I understand. I lost my wife six years ago. She was healthy, and then suddenly she was sick, and then…” He grimaced before shaking his head. “She was gone. So was my little boy. He was only twelve.”

“Oh.” Brock now felt like he was the one intruding. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you and…your daughter? Forgive me. I wasn’t sure if Lola was your child or not.”

“She’s my child. Lola was just as devastated as I was. I don’t think either of us fully healed from seeing it, either.” Wright looked at the line of wagons stopped at the side of the main road through the town. “Ironically, she had been the one providing health care to the travelers we bring across to the West, and yet she and our son were the ones she couldn’t save. It feels like someone was laughing at us.”

Brock didn’t know what to say to that. He watched as his father talked to the person who was struggling with their wagon. Eugene wasn’t going to be happy when he heard about this, but he could at least try.

“Do you mind if I talk to you about something later, Mr. Wright?” he asked.

“What about?”

“I’ll explain once we’ve finished with the wagon repair, but I’m hoping you can help convince my father that it’s a good idea to get him and Mother to leave here for somewhere warmer.”

Wright looked confused.

“And how do you think me persuading them is going to work?”

“By offering Father a job.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later. Let me help out with this repair first.” Brock hurried away, calling over his shoulder. “But I do want to talk to you about that.”

If he could manage to persuade Coleman Wright to allow them to join the wagon train in exchange for repairing their wagons on the go, then they had a chance to move elsewhere while earning money. Brock knew that it would be hard on his parents. They were very set in their ways.

It would also be good for him. Brock would be happy to leave their small town, where no one would know him, and he could start fresh for himself. While he was growing up, everyone expected him to be more masculine and carry on with hobbies that only men did, but Brock was not like that. He preferred to read. His idea of a perfect evening was to sit on the back porch with a book while the sun went down. With the back of their house facing west, it was beautiful to witness, and Brock enjoyed watching the sky go from blue to orange and then indigo and inky black.

People thought that was stupid. He heard them gossiping about him when he was running errands. The townspeople thought it was not normal and that he should be more like a man, whatever that meant. His parents didn’t say anything about it, although Brock knew that Eugene was slightly ashamed that his son preferred to read more than anything else. But Gladys was an avid reader, and she entertained it, saying that there was nothing wrong with it.

She had stood up for Brock many times, but mindsets were hard to change. And Brock knew about that; he had suffered becoming confident because of it. In his mind, there was nothing wrong with reading. It was fascinating, and it was a way to learn. And yet, somehow, it was seen as a bad thing for a man to sit in a corner with a book. Brock didn’t understand that at all.

If Brock could move his parents out West and start a new life, then he could take his passion with him. He could also find what he actually wanted to do rather than helping his father with the wagon repair business.

He just needed to get someone else to convince Eugene to do this. Brock wouldn’t be able to do it himself.

 

Chapter Two

Lola sat on the back of the wagon and watched as the young man with the beard hurried away from her father toward the wagon repairman, who was preparing to fix the broken wheel. It was lucky that they noticed things when they did. Otherwise, they could have gone through the town and had it break down when there was no one around. Lola knew how scary that could be, being in the middle of nowhere and no idea how to fix something without the right tools.

She had seen many things like this over the last fifteen years. Things could be worse than this, and luck could be on their side. Her father said that luck was always around if they paid close attention, and she could see his point at times. Her mother would say things happened for a reason, and we shouldn’t question it. She had been telling Lola that since they started this business when Lola was eight years old.

Lola felt a pang of sadness in her chest. She missed her mother. It had been six years, and the pain never really went away. Even though he seemed to be carrying on as normal, it was clear that Coleman was still mourning his wife. They had loved each other passionately, and he had adored his son. Henry had been his pride and joy, the person who would take over Coleman’s job as the wagon train leader. He would have been the guide once he was old enough, and Henry had loved life on the road.

Lola hadn’t minded that. She had wanted a quieter life where she stayed in one place and didn’t need to go anywhere every few days. She had had enough drama in the last fifteen years to last a lifetime.

She watched as her father walked toward their wagon, and Lola jumped down to pull the sheet aside so Coleman could put the sack inside.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Coleman sounded distracted as he stepped back, dusting himself down. “Did you get everything else that we needed?”

“Yes, of course.” Lola nodded eagerly. “It’s all sorted. Everyone else is doing the same. We should be ready to go as soon as the Robinson wagon is fixed.”

“Good.” Coleman adjusted his hat as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Who knew that it was winter right now? I feel like it’s the middle of summer.”

“Are you well, Father?”

“I’m perfectly fine. I’ve just been incredibly busy, that’s all. We seem to be ahead of most of the winter, anyway.” Her father barely glanced at her before turning away. “I’m going to check on everyone else. Stay with the wagon, Lola.”

“I will.”

Lola watched him walk away, wishing that he would just look at her properly. It was like they weren’t father and daughter but merely employer and employee. After the death of his wife and son, Coleman Wright had thrown himself into becoming the best guide possible, taking people from the East Coast all the way over to the Western states. That was his focus completely, to the point he barely remembered that he had a daughter. Lola had worked hard to get his attention, and sometimes that didn’t feel like enough.

She had put everything into this life. For fifteen years, she had sacrificed having a proper education to travel with her family, to go through the tragedy and the joy, and all Lola had to show for it was a distant father who barely recalled having another child. He had been more focused on Henry before his death, but at least he had paid her attention. But now…

Pushing that aside, Lola hopped up into the wagon and settled onto her pallet, reaching for the book underneath her flat pillow. It was one that she had bought from a second-hand store a while ago. Coleman didn’t have much interest in books, and he wouldn’t have approved if he knew that his daughter was reading when she was meant to be working. But what was she supposed to do when there wasn’t anything else to keep her occupied?

Besides, how was she supposed to progress in life if she didn’t teach herself? Lola had never gone to school; her mother had taught her at home and on the road. It hadn’t been too bad, but Lola had missed being in the schoolroom with the other children. She had wanted to be like a regular child, and that wasn’t going to happen when her parents were on the road all the time.

After her mother’s death, Lola kept up with her studies whenever she could. She wasn’t about to be left illiterate and unable to write anything or do sums, especially if she was planning on starting out on her own. Lola had found things were tougher for those who didn’t have a proper education; women, especially, were taken advantage of.

She wasn’t about to let that happen to her.

There was a knock on the wood that made Lola jump, and she stuffed her book out of sight again.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Lola heaved a sigh of relief. It was only Ruby, one of the daughters of the Robinson family. She scrambled over and pulled the sheets aside. Ruby, with her bright auburn hair and the gap between her teeth, gave Lola a big grin.

“It looks like things are going to be fixed faster than we thought.”

“They’re working that fast, are they?”

“You could say that. I thought it was going to take a few hours, but it looks like they’re going to get it done within an hour, at the very most. The old man was confident about that.” Ruby giggled. “I must say, his son is really cute. Tall, dark, and handsome, and he’s good with his hands. And he’s got a nice voice.”

Lola rolled her eyes and gave the girl a smile.

“How many men have you found attractive since we started this, Ruby? I’ve lost count.”

“What? I’m just looking. It doesn’t mean I’m going to be following through.”

“You talk like that any louder, and someone might get the wrong idea.”

Ruby laughed, and Lola felt her mood lightening. Ruby Robinson was a sweet girl of twenty, looking to move with her family of nine. Her parents wanted a better life for their children, so all of them were traveling to Wyoming. She and Lola had gotten along since they first met and, at times, Ruby would ride along with Lola when she wanted a break from her siblings. She was the oldest and they often got on her last nerve.

A cawing above their heads made both of them look up, and Lola saw Craven flying down toward them. The raven came to a stop on her shoulder, which made Ruby laugh.

“I thought you were mad when you told me about having a pet raven, but I’m still surprised each time I see him.”

“I didn’t plan to have him as a pet.” Lola found herself giggling as Craven began gently tugging at her locks, his beak tickling her cheek. “He just won’t leave me alone.”

Ruby was the only one who knew about Craven. Coleman had no idea about the bird, and he would certainly not be happy that his daughter had become attached to a raven. Lola didn’t want to argue about it; she was happy to have some attention. Craven was harmless. After she had found him injured and nursed him back to health six months ago, he had become a firm friend. Lola knew it was an odd choice for a pet, but she didn’t care.

She wasn’t allowed to have a cat due to their lifestyle, and their dog had died two years ago, and Coleman refused to get another one. Mostly because they couldn’t agree on what breed to get. He wanted a hunting dog, but Lola had wanted something more placid and a companion. So they had given up.

Craven was a good replacement.

“Anyway, I thought I should let you know that it’s going to happen faster than we thought. The father and son pair work really quickly.” Ruby smirked. “Do you think we could ask them to come along with us? I could do with someone to stare at.”

Lola groaned.

“Ruby!”

“What? I told you that I just want to look. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed him.”

Lola had, but she wasn’t about to say it. She had certainly noticed that the wagon repairman’s son was very handsome. He had to be close to her age, and looked a little shy. She had noticed him staring at her, and it had made Lola’s whole body heat up. She felt like she had goosebumps everywhere. That had never happened before.

“Watch out! Your father’s coming back!” Ruby hissed, looking over her shoulder at the sound of a familiar voice.

Lola nudged Craven off her shoulder.

“Off you go! You can come back later.”

She had no idea if Craven understood, but he was very good at hiding. The raven flew away just as Coleman came around the wagon behind his, looking slightly bemused as he shook his head. Lola could tell that something had happened.

“What’s wrong, Father?” she asked.

“I just got a proposition from Price’s son.”

“Price?”

“The man repairing Robinson’s wagon. As his father was putting the final touches to the axle, his son approached me and asked if he and his family could come along with us.”

It took a moment for Lola to realize what he had just said. She frowned at him.

“Did you just say that they want to come with us?”

“Well, he’s worried about his mother’s health, and they’re struggling with their business as people are not bringing as many carts and wagons through here anymore, not when there is a bigger station further upstate that is preferable.” Coleman rubbed the back of his neck, looking worn out. “It was only because we had the break so close to here that we came by. Otherwise, we would have missed them as well.”

Lola could understand how things could work like that. There was a lot of competition for so many jobs, and those who missed out really struggled. She remembered seeing Mrs. Price at the bottom of the stairs, having a coughing fit that scared Lola into freezing. It reminded her of how her mother died, and Lola couldn’t go through it again.

She felt sick remembering that, but she pushed it aside.

“So, he asked if they could join us? Can they pay?”

“No, they can’t. However, we bartered. They are able to repair the wagons on the road, and they will have their tools with them.” Coleman nodded. “It would be easier for us to have the repairs done while on the move instead of looking for the next station and going out of our way. The journey won’t take as long.”

Lola thought about that for a moment. It sounded like a good idea. Beside her, Ruby was nodding eagerly.

“I think that’s a great idea, Mr. Wright,” she declared. “And if Father is worried about our wagon, we’ll have them close by. It would put his mind at rest.”

Coleman grunted. Then he looked at Lola, which made her realize this was the first time all day he had actually looked her in the eye.

“We’ll have them in the line behind us,” he said. “We’ll sort everything out in the morning.”

“We haven’t got a spare wagon, though,” Lola reminded him.

“They’ve got one. They just need to put everything onto it, and then they can go.” Coleman held up a hand. “We’ve got it sorted, Lola. You don’t need to worry about that part.”

“And you’re confident that this is a good idea? When they haven’t paid?”

“They’ll pay their way. Not everyone can pay immediately and have to work for it.” Coleman turned away. “You’ll understand it when you’re older.”

Lola stared at his retreating back. How insulting! Ruby grimaced.

“He still thinks you don’t have much of a mind of your own, does he?”

“Unfortunately.”

“How can you cope with that? I wouldn’t be able to if my parents behaved the same way.”

Lola sighed.

“You get used to it. It’s been six years, after all. Anyway, are you going back to your wagon? Your parents will want to make sure you’re around while you sort out your things.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind me disappearing for a few minutes. I’m only going to look after my siblings while my parents take care of everything, anyway.” Ruby sighed. “I wish that they wouldn’t treat me like a nanny or something. I love my brothers and sisters, but I don’t want to look after them.”

It was at times like this Lola could understand why Ruby didn’t want to have any children of her own. She gave her friend a comforting smile.

“It’ll be fine. Hopefully, things will settle down once we get to Wyoming.”

“I hope so.” Ruby paused. “I’m glad you and I get along. I was worried about approaching you with the attitude you have around everyone. But you’re a softie, really, aren’t you?”

“What? Me?” Lola mock-gasped and put her hand to her chest. “I’m nothing of the sort! What do you take me for?”

Ruby laughed and nudged Lola before walking away. But Lola could see her point; she kept herself aloof and professional around everyone else, not wanting to look like she was someone easy to manipulate. There were so many people like that on the trail who could take advantage of a young woman, and Lola wanted to look mostly standoffish. It didn’t always work, as it had with Ruby, but Lola kept up the act, for the most part.

It was tough, but her life was hard work. She had to keep going.

Reaching into the wagon and finding an apple, Lola took a bite before removing the piece from her mouth. She whistled, and Craven returned, swooping fast past her before settling on her shoulder again.

“Me, a softie?” Lola said with a smile as she fed the apple to the raven. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dare become such a thing.”

***

The light was fading quickly, so Coleman decided that they would spend the night where they were, and then move on in the morning. Lola had no problem with that. Normally, the evenings were times when she and her father could spend time alone. Even though they didn’t really speak, and Coleman was still distant, despite it being the two of them, Lola did like it. They could be there for each other even in silence.

She did wonder if Coleman would ever realize that he hadn’t lost his entire family and he still had a daughter. Lola had contemplated leaving and striking out on her own, settling down in one of the places on their trail. She got paid as well—her father gave her a generous cut, much to her surprise—and she had saved up. She could become one of the settlers herself. But the thought of leaving her father made her feel bad about even contemplating it. Lola couldn’t abandon him, not like that.

However, she couldn’t remain ignored forever. Coleman had to realize that he was pushing away his only relative if he carried on the same way, but he hadn’t come to that conclusion yet.

When Lola woke up in the morning, Craven was jumping around on her father’s empty pallet, pecking at the blanket. It took a moment for her to realize that Coleman had gotten up and was gone. If he hadn’t, Craven wouldn’t be this brazen. The bird was smart, at the very least.

Sitting up, Lola reached for another apple, which had Craven bouncing over to her immediately. He was very fond of apples. She fed him a piece she had bitten off, and watched as Craven ate.

“Never in my life did I think I would be feeding a bird like a pet,” she murmured. “You’re full of surprises, Craven.”

Craven didn’t respond, not that he could. He just continued to eat the apple. Lola finished the fruit herself and jumped out of the wagon, getting her legs used to not being cramped on the wagon before she walked around. After getting herself washed and using the outhouse in the Price’s backyard, Lola made her way back to the main street. There was a wagon she had never seen before being moved to the front of the wagon train, readying to move in behind the wagon she and her father owned. There was a little annoyance from some of the other people, but that was it. The son was guiding the horse, rubbing its nose and giving her a smile that made Lola stop and stare. He really did have a nice smile.

Ruby was right. That man was handsome. There was something about the way he conducted himself that was alluring. Of course, Lola already knew that after the way her body tingled when she saw him the first time.

She didn’t really want the family here. Lola had been dubious about it since her father told her what was going on. But she had to admit that having someone who could repair the wagons on the move would be a good idea. They did lose quite a bit of time waiting for the broken wagons to be fixed properly at an appropriate station. If they could cut that out, they could get to their destination sooner.

Maybe it would be a good thing, but somehow, she didn’t think that would be the case. Something in her gut told her that this would be more trouble than they anticipated.

“There you are, Lola.” Coleman waved her over as Lola approached, and then turned to the middle-aged couple who were at the back of the wagon. “This is Eugene and Gladys Price. And that lad over there is their son, Brock. My daughter, Lola.”

This was one of the few times he acknowledged her. When he was introducing her to the wagon train. Lola put on a professional smile and shook hands with Price, who simply scowled at her and turned away. It felt like he was being standoffish. Lola wondered if he was actually happy with doing this, or he was simply going along with it for his wife and son. She had a feeling that might be the case.

“How do you do?” she said politely, and then looked at Gladys, who was sitting on the back of the wagon. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Price? You gave us a shock yesterday.”

“I’ll be fine, dear. And you can call me Gladys.” The older woman gave her a sweet smile before gesturing at her ankle, which was free of any stockings or boots. “I’m afraid I’m going to be struggling for a while until my leg is better, but I’ll do whatever I can once I’m strong enough.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Lola assured her. “And if you need any company, let me know, and I’ll come and sit with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, dear…”

“We look after everyone we’re in charge of. It’s only natural.”

Lola felt a change in the air, and her skin prickled. She didn’t need to look around to know that Brock had joined the group. She bit her lip and hoped nobody noticed her discomfort.

“Are we all done, Father?” he asked. “Daisy is ready to go.”

“We’ve just got a couple more crates to put on the wagon.” Price gestured at the boxes stacked nearby. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“Do you think Daisy can cope with the extra weight?”

Coleman chuckled.

“From what I can tell, your horse will be able to cope without any problems. We’re not going to let them go any faster than a walk, anyway. That would be madness.”

“Do you want any help?” Lola asked, moving toward the crates. “I can help you load them…”

“No, it’s fine.” Brock got there before she did, looking a little flustered. “I’ve got this. You don’t need to worry about it. Besides, they’re too heavy.”

“Don’t underestimate Lola and her strength,” Coleman said. “She’s stronger than I am, and that’s saying something.”

Brock looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Lola was a little annoyed by that. Did he not have any faith? Sighing, he nodded and gestured at the top crate.

“I’ll take the bigger one, if you want to help carry the smaller box?”

“Fine.” Lola picked it up, feeling it strain her arms a little until she got a proper grip on it. “See? Nothing to it.”

However, she did wonder what he had in there because it was quite heavy. As she walked toward the wagons, Lola could feel her arms begin to scream at her. She had carried things like this before, but somehow, this was something else. And the bottom felt as if it was going to fall out.

She got the crate to the wagon and pushed it inside. Then she turned to see Brock staggering with the other one. Suddenly, there was a crack, and the bottom fell out. It hit the ground, along with the contents. Lola stared when she saw books topple out, landing in the dirt and scattering across the street. Brock froze, his face going pale. He looked sheepish.

Price groaned.

“Really, Brock? You brought all of those?”

“They’re my possessions, Father,” Brock protested. “We were bringing everything, remember?”

“Half of those are my books as well, Eugene,” Gladys said. “Brock said he would look after them all. Did you think we were going to leave them behind?”

“Well…”

“So why don’t you help your son clean them up and put them onto the wagon? I’d do it myself, but I can’t for obvious reasons.”

His face now turning a bright pink, Brock dropped down to a crouch and began to pick up what he could as his father joined him. Lola stared at the books, surprised at the amount. She knew that people did enjoy books—she bought her own, after all—but she had never seen this many. Surely, they would have downsized before they started moving away.

It didn’t take long to get the books into the back of the wagon, where Gladys began to sort them out. Lola looked at the titles, but she didn’t really understand some of the words. Her reading ability was still very basic, so longer words made her struggle.

“I’m surprised you would want to bring all of these with you,” she murmured.

Brock stopped and stared at her.

“Why wouldn’t anyone want to bring a book with them? It’s an escape, something to take us away from what is currently going on.”

“You’re escaping right now on foot. You don’t need a book.”

Brock arched an eyebrow, looking bemused. Gladys laughed.

“Oh, don’t be offended, Brock. Miss Lola has more important things to worry about than our silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” Lola hurriedly assured her. “But it is a strange choice to bring, even if you do own all of them. We usually say bring essentials.”

“And books aren’t going to do you any good out on the trail,” Coleman said with an amused smile. “Unless we need something to keep the fire going.”

Brock’s mouth fell open in horror.

“But these are my essentials,” he insisted. “I’m not going anywhere without them.”

“How about you shut up and check on Daisy again?” Price growled, his face flushed with embarrassment as he dumped his armful of books beside his wife. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Brock said nothing, simply avoiding anyone’s gaze and moving back to his horse. Price shook his head and walked away, Coleman joining them, and the two seemed to be in deep conversation.

“Don’t worry about this, dear,” Gladys said as she began to stack the books against the wall of the wagon. “My son has always been sensitive about something he enjoys. His father doesn’t quite understand why he would read when he had other things to do. It’s not a hobby men do.”

“You make it sound like men can’t be bothered to read,” Lola replied with a smile. “That it’s too much hard work.”

Gladys laughed.

“They don’t consider it something a man in his prime should be doing. I’ll never understand men. They’re just…odd people, if I’m honest.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Lola looked at the books and then at the crate she had been carrying. Was that full of books as well? “As long as he pulls his weight, then it shouldn’t matter what he does with his downtime.”

“We’ll make sure of it. Brock is a hard worker when he’s concentrating. But if he’s got his nose in a book, you’re going to be hard-pushed to get his attention.” Gladys gestured at herself. “He’s gotten that from me, I’m afraid. I love to read.”

“At least you have something to keep you occupied until you’re well enough,” Lola commented. She stepped away. “I’ll leave you to it. Father will be the one to tell us when we’ll leave, and it shouldn’t be long.”

“Very well, dear.”

Lola walked away, heading along the line of the train. The other occupants, families in each wagon, were pretty much prepared to go on. A few of them nodded at Lola in greeting, but they were mostly busy with what they were doing. Lola looked along the line, all seventy wagons, thinking this was the longest train they had ever had.

Seventy-one now with the new addition.

“Come along, Lola.” Coleman appeared beside her. “We’d better get prepared to leave. I want us to go in five minutes, at the very most.”

“Are you sure about bringing the Price family along?” Lola asked.

Coleman blinked.

“Are you questioning my decision?”

“Well, they decided this on a whim, didn’t they? What if we get a few miles down the trail, and they decide that they want to turn back because it’s too much.”

“That’s not going to happen. Besides, it would be good to have someone with their expertise along with us.” Coleman paused, looking around before lowering his voice. “Remember what happened four years ago? I don’t want that happening again.”

Lola’s heart clenched at the memory. It had been a horrible situation, one that could have been prevented.

“Is that why you agreed to let them come along?” she asked.

“It wouldn’t hurt. If I can prevent that from happening again, I’ll do it. Even if the son looks like he has his head in the clouds.” Coleman patted his daughter’s shoulder. “Have some faith in me, Lola. I know what I’m doing.”

Lola had heard that many times. Even so, she was still unsure about this. In her gut, she had a feeling that this was going to be more of a hindrance than a help.