Bertie? The man sounded upset, and Joe turned down the alley to investigate.

  His heart thumped against his ribs. Three youths surrounded Bertie, mocking him. And then—Joe’s heart slammed so hard that he’d have a bruise—Hazel marched into sight and right up to the biggest of the three.

  He couldn’t make out her words, but her tone was plain.

  She was ordering the trio to leave her brother alone.

  Had she no fear? One of them alone could do her harm. Three? He shuddered.

  But she rose on her tiptoes and glowered up at the largest tormentor.

  Joe hurried closer, clinging to the shadows of the nearby buildings. Surprise was his best weapon. That and the knife strapped to his leg.

  No one noticed him, and he paused. When he was close enough and saw that Hazel wasn’t in any danger, he took time to admire the feisty woman. It seemed she didn’t have a fearful bone in her entire body. She faced men bigger than her without an ounce of caution.

  He didn’t know if he should admire her or despair.

  “That’s my brother you’re tormenting. I don’t know if you noticed, but he is big enough to hurt all three of you—and he will if I tell him to.” She bounced on her toes. “I think it would be wise for you to leave as fast as you can.”

  The three of them eyed each other.

  “Nah,” the big one said. “He’s too stupid to do anything.”

  “You mean he’s too kind. While you three are mean as rattlesnakes.” She settled back on her heels and made a shooing motion. “Now, be off with you.”

  Joe coiled, ready to spring to her defense.

  Finally, the smallest of the three sighed. “This ain’t fun no more. Let’s go.” He started down the alley. After glowering at Hazel, the other two left.

  “Bertie, leave the dog and go back to Mama.”

  “But, Hazel⁠—”

  “No buts, Bertie. You can’t keep the dog.”

  Bertie pushed to his feet and ambled away.

  Joe stepped forward. “That was the craziest thing I ever saw.”

  She spun around. “Where did you come from?”

  “Thought I’d check on you. Glad I did.” Though she hadn’t needed his help. But all the same, he was glad he’d been close in case she did.

  Smiling, she sauntered to his side. “You couldn’t stand to be away from me.”

  While that might be true, he was more concerned about what he’d just seen. “There were three of them. All bigger than you. What would you have done if they hadn’t backed down?”

  She shrugged. “I would have called Bertie to help.”

  Did the rising of his eyebrows inform her how useless he thought that idea?

  “I can run fast.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I can also scream really loud. I would inform everyone that they were hurting me.”

  His tight breath eased out, but his chest did not relax. “You scare me.” So much fierceness in such a small, defenseless body.

  “Maybe you’ll realize that I’m capable of facing problems. That I care not what others think or do.”

  Recognizing she didn’t mean only her defense of Bertie, he didn’t blink an eye.

  She hooked her arm around his elbow. “You want to go to the store? Or maybe walk up and down the street?”

  “I want to go back to the campsite.” Maybe the three youths would forget how she’d humiliated them. Or they might be plotting revenge. At least back where the wagons were, he could offer a degree of protection.

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He slowed his steps to match hers as they retraced their steps. They were the only ones at the camp. She took her bag to the wagon and then returned.

  “I’ve got something for you.” She handed him a book. “You said you liked reading, so I got you this.”

  “Kidnapped?” The title intrigued him. Besides that, it was a gift from Hazel. He would have cherished it even if written in a foreign language.

  “I hope you enjoy it.”

  “I will. I’ll think of you every time I open the pages.” He shouldn’t have said that. It went against his desire to make her forget about him.

  Her musical laugh insisted his answer pleased her.

  A cup of coffee would calm his breathing. He shook the pot. Found it empty.

  “I’ll make more.” She headed to the wagon to grind beans.

  “Not necessary. I’ll have water.” He filled the dipper to overflowing and downed it all. In his desperation, water dribbled from the corners of his mouth. The dipper returned, he considered her gift. The book was warm and heavy in his hand. He should probably put it away in his saddlebag. But he didn’t want to let go of it yet. Well, what better way to spend the time than to sit beside her and page through it.

  “Let’s sit.” He patted two log stools that stood close together.

  Then he opened the book. Read the first page, which gave information about who published it. He flipped the page and studied a map, read the inscription aloud. “‘The journey of the Brig Covenant and wanderings of David Balfour.’”

  Joe stared at the map. If he drew one of his own travels, the red line would leave Fort Qu’Appelle and go north. Then west to the mountains. It would go back and forth a few times and then back to Fort Qu’Appelle. Then, east to Manitoba.

  Hazel watched his finger follow the red line on the map. “Are you thinking of your own travels?”

  His head jerked up. She’d managed to surprise him. “How did you know?”

  “I just knew.” Her fingers traced the red line along with his. “Maybe one day you’ll write a book so everyone will know what the West is like.”

  “Men better than I have already written about it.”

  Her finger stilled. She leaned closer, smiling into his face. “No one else can see through your eyes.”

  The challenge, the encouragement, and the determination in her gaze held him captive. Perhaps a willing captive. At least in part. A sensible part of his thoughts still said being with her for more than the rest of this trip was impossible. Dangerous for her.

  From his depths, he found the strength to turn away. “I’ll untie the animals.” On legs that felt wooden, he crossed toward the oxen. But she followed, making it impossible to push her to the back of his mind. A smile warmed him where once there’d been cold, hard resolve.

  “Did you know the store owner is part Native?” she asked.

  “Never been to the store.” So, of course, he didn’t know.

  “It would seem he’s accepted here. He runs a well-stocked store and appears to do a thriving business.”

  He loosened the oxen and patted them to assure them they could move about as freely as they liked. But they sat on the ground, contentedly chewing their cud. His thoughts followed her line of discussion. Joe’s pa had run a good business. From a young age, Joe had learned how to keep inventory, how to track sales and purchases. He’d gotten good at looking at pelts and knowing their value.

  “I used to help my pa.” The words were heavy on his tongue, so full of the past.

  “Did you enjoy that?”

  Rather than answer immediately, he moved the horses to better grazing. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure how he felt. It was in the past. Something that no longer had a part in his life. Finally, feeling her patient waiting, he shrugged. “I enjoyed being with Pa.”

  The others returned, ending their discussion. Walt pushed a cart carrying sacks and crates.

  Joe smiled. “Looks like the man benefited from your visit.” He helped put the supplies into the wagons. “While we’re here, it’s a good time to stock up on meat. I’ll go hunting tomorrow.” While they waited for wagon repairs, they could preserve meat for their travels.

  Hazel, at his side, grew still. “I thought⁠—”

  Yes, he knew what she thought. It was the same as what he wished.

  But that didn’t make it possible.

  Hazel turned away from Joe and concentrated on Petey, who played with the red ball Joe had given him weeks ago.

  Fine. They needed meat. Not that Joe was the only one able to provide it. But if she protested, he would point out that it was his responsibility as the scout. But he was finding it too easy to avoid her. First, taking care of the animals. Then, helping put away supplies. After that, he trotted into the trees, returning with armloads of wood.

  She helped around the camp as well, reveling in the abundance they had now. She baked cookies and made two apple pies. For the first time in too many days to count, they had mashed potatoes and gravy and a fresh pork roast. There’d even been carrots from someone’s garden at the store.

  Peter had taught her a little about operating such a business, and she’d been impressed with the one in the little town of Shannon, Northwest Territories. Her hands grew idle as she recalled the early days of her marriage when she’d helped Peter in the store. He insisted she didn’t need to, but she liked arranging displays in the window, putting the shelves to right every day, and tidying up the yard goods after the women had examined the bolts of fabric. She’d always put a different one at the front to draw attention.

  “Hazel? Are you listening?” Ma’s questions startled Hazel.

  “What? Oh, sorry. Gathering wool. What is it?”

  “What is this story of Bertie’s about a lost dog and some big boys?”

  Hazel tucked away her secret pleasure at proving to Joe she wasn’t afraid to face difficult things, but she held back many of the details from her story as she told Ma what happened.

  The meal was soon ready, and they ate in leisure, knowing they wouldn’t be moving on until the wagons were repaired.

  The dishes were done, and Petey was half asleep in Hazel’s arms when a call came.

  “Hello, the camp. May we come in?”

  Gabe rose. “Come and welcome.”

  A couple stepped into view. Hazel recognized the storekeeper and a woman. “My wife,” he said, introducing them both as the Georges. “Thought we’d see how you folks are doing.”

  He was as dark as Joe. His wife had brown hair, light-brown eyes, and skin as pale as alabaster.

  Gabe introduced the travelers.

  A thousand questions flooded Hazel’s mind. Dare she ask them, or would it be considered rude?

  Ma explained that they were on their way to Fort Taylor. “To join my son, a North-West Mounted Policeman.”

  “We saw flames to the east the day before yesterday. The fire threaten you folks?” Mr. George asked.

  The Miller men took turns telling him what had happened as they shared tea and cookies with the visitors.

  “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  Hazel squirmed with the questions pressing to her tongue. But how was she to approach the pair?

  Mr. George turned to Hazel. “Ma’am, I saw that you had a run-in with our local bullies.”

  “Run-in!” Ma gaped. “You just said—” Her gaze went to Bertie, and she didn’t finish.

  “It wasn’t like that.” A perfect time for a subject change. “Mr. George, Mrs. George, do you face prejudice because⁠—?”

  Mrs. George laughed. “Please call me Sara. And you mean because he’s part Native and I’m not?”

  Heat pooled in Hazel’s cheeks as she nodded.

  Sara’s gaze went from Hazel to Joe. “I understand your need to know.” She reached for her husband’s hand, openly revealing her affection. “There will always be bullies. You learned that this afternoon. Lonzo and I have chosen not to let bullies decide how we would live. Instead, we choose to focus on the good, kind, and generous people around us.”

  Lonzo smiled down at his wife.

  Oh, how Hazel longed to enjoy that same look of love from Joe.

  “We’ve found most people are accepting,” Lonzo said.

  Hazel met Joe’s gaze across the coals of the fire. Determination marched into her heart. Dug in like a stubborn settler. And blossomed into joy when he didn’t look away.

  When the Georges rose, preparing to depart, Sara bent over and patted Hazel’s shoulder. “Love conquers all.”

  “I agree.” Now, all she had to do was convince Joe.

  She waited until the guests left, then turned to Irene, who was sitting at her side. “Will you watch Petey?” She transferred the drowsy baby into Irene’s welcoming arms, got to her feet, and crossed to where Joe lounged against one of the wagons. He must have known what her intentions were. And yet he hadn’t disappeared into the dusk. That had to be a good sign.

  “Can we walk?” Would he let the Georges’ experience make him understand what was possible?

  Chapter Twelve

  Was it possible? Joe hardly dared allow himself to think so. And yet the Georges weren’t much different from him and Hazel. If they could make life together work⁠—

  Hazel’s eyes flickered with reflected firelight as she moved toward him. He waited until she was within touching distance to push from the wagon and stand upright. No words were necessary between them. He knew what she wanted and crooked his elbow toward her.

  The touch of her hand on his arm ignited a desperate hope.

  They wandered down to the shore, where the full moon reflected off the water, and long shadows of the trees striped their path. He led her to a spot where he’d noticed a ledge of land made for sitting. A perfect place to gaze at silver moonbeams in the dam.

  They sat side by side. He didn’t imagine that she pressed close to him.

  Leaves rustled. A duck quacked in the reeds. A night bird whistled. From town, a faint shout rose. But he and Hazel didn’t speak.

  She sucked in a whisper of air. “Joe? Doesn’t hearing the Georges make you think it’s possible for us too?”

  He breathed in the scent of her, branding it forever in his memories. Could he have more than memories? Or was it safer to guard his heart? But it was too late for that. His heart had already been captured by her.

  Now he must decide whether or not it was safe for her to join her life to his.

  “Hazel, I want to believe it is, but my experience hasn’t given me any assurance.”

  She angled herself to study his face. “I am not afraid of challenges. I am not afraid of bullies. If life has taught me anything, it’s this. Good things can slip away so quickly. Enjoy them while you may.”

  She spoke from her experience. Bertie’s illness had changed him. Peter’s accident had cost his life and left her alone. Her father had died, making her feel yet more alone. And yet⁠—

  Yet she had hope and courage. She’d left her security back in Bruffin to cross the country in a covered wagon.

  He caught her chin in his palm. “Hazel, I believe you, of all people, are strong enough to face the challenges of being associated with a man like me.”

  “Don’t you mean I am fortunate enough to know the joy of associating with a man like you?”

  How could he resist her and her confidence? “Hazel—” He leaned over and brushed his lips to hers.

  She nestled into him, cradled a hand behind his head, and deepened the kiss.

  With the moon and stars forgotten, his heart sang louder and sweeter than any bird. Loving this woman made him ready to conquer every bully, every critic, every unkind person.

  Letting out a gentle sigh, she relaxed in his embrace. “Look at the way the moonlight dances on the water. Doesn’t it give you hope and courage?” She tipped her face up to him. “It reminds me of something.”

  She didn’t seem about to explain. In fact, her gaze drifted beyond him. “What?” He wanted to know her every memory.

  “I—” The fringes of his vest twisted in her fingers. “I don’t know. It’s something hovering at the edges of my thoughts.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, snugging her closer, he pushed the question against her soft hair. “Good or bad?”

  “I’m not sure.” A slight stiffening suggested she searched for the illusive memory.

  She jerked up. “I remember.”

  His hands on her shoulders offered his support for whatever widened her eyes and rounded her mouth. He waited for her to collect her thoughts.

  “I remember waking up in the dark, afraid because I’d heard a strange sound. I slipped from my bed to go to Ma and Pa, but their room was empty. Now I was really scared. Then I heard the sound again. And recognized it. Bertie. He was outside. I guessed where my parents were and ran to find them.”

  The smile she gave Joe trembled. “I was only about five and frightened to be alone.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. If he could, he would promise she’d never be alone. But life made that impossible.

  “I found the three of them in front of the barn. Ma had her arms around Bertie, guiding him to the house. Pa noticed me. Guess he could tell how afraid I was. He sat on the ground and scooped me onto his knees. ‘Hazel, my sweet daughter, you’re safe. You’ll always be safe, even when your mother and I aren’t nearby.’ I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine feeling safe without them.”

  She turned to look toward the water.

  “Pa pulled me to my feet and pointed at the moon on the water of the trough.” Her voice slowed and deepened. “‘How long,’ he asked, ‘do you think the moon will stay in the sky? And the sun and stars?’ I said forever. He said there was something that would last longer than that. God’s love and care. And, he said, it was there even when the sun wasn’t shining and clouds covered the sky.”

  Stars shone in her eyes now as she gazed at Joe. “That is something we need to remember. You and I can face a future together because God is with us.”

  He crushed her to his chest. “Your father was a very wise man.” What would he have said to someone like Joe courting his daughter?

  But he wasn’t going to let possible problems rob him of his present joy.

  They held each other as the air cooled and dampness rose from the water.

 

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