Wagon Train Christmas Read online

  Her gaze returned to him and held his like a vise. “I guess you can explain it any way you like. It changes nothing.”

  “Except it should. As his friend, I’d like to help you, but first, I need to know what’s going on that you are here, pretending to be someone you’re not.”

  He wouldn’t have thought her gaze could burn hotter, but it did. But years of standing his ground before angry men and other challenges allowed him to meet her look without showing a smidgen of being ill at ease.

  “If you care about Max and his son, you will call me Greta and him Cole, and you’ll pretend you don’t know me.” She marched away.

  He stared after her, too stunned to move.

  Why was she so determined to pretend she wasn’t Maximillian’s widow and Maxie his son?

  3

  Sophia had to get away. Buck’s persistence and his knowledge of her true identity meant she could no longer feel safe at the fort. Perhaps she could pay someone to take her to one of the small outposts. Or maybe one of the Indian tribes would let her live with them.

  Niteesh had said she’d speak to a man, and Sophia hurried through supper, grateful that Buck did not come to the dining room. She knew her reprieve was temporary. He was a man used to having people do as he requested. Mary Mae had spoken highly of his control on the wagon train journey to the fort.

  Being in charge of those in his care was one thing.

  Wanting to know about her life with Maximillian and his family was something else entirely.

  She told Mary Mae of Niteesh’s invitation to visit and as soon as she could, she slipped from the fort. The music and dancing of the Mexicans made it easy to leave without being noticed. Outside the fort, she drew her warm shawl around herself and Maxie. The nights tended to be cold. They’d had snow a few days ago but, it had vanished except for well-shaded spots.

  The warm firelight of Niteesh’s camp guided Sophia to her new-found friend.

  “Greta, you come.” Niteesh drew her to the warmth of the fire and gave her a cup of hot, strong tea.

  Sophia wondered if Niteesh had a husband, but the sound of deep voices within the tent made her think he was inside. She was anxious to discuss the matter closest to her heart but didn’t want to be rude, so they talked about the weather and the children for a few minutes; then Niteesh set aside her cup.

  “I speak to man as I tell you.”

  The weight that had burdened her shoulders for the past few days lightened. “Did he offer to help?” Sophia looked about but saw no one. Her heart sank, even though she knew it was foolish to think they could leave right away. No one traveled at night, especially with a young child.

  “He will say for himself.”

  Niteesh rose and waved forward a man from the inside of her tent.

  “No.” The word erupted from Sophia’s mouth as Buck stepped into the circle of light.

  “I take baby. You talk.” Niteesh guided Lola and Maxie inside the tent making it impossible for Sophia to grab her child and run.

  She sank back to the ground where she’d been seated, stiffened her shoulders, and clamped her lips together.

  He sat a few feet from her, his legs crossed. Although they were a goodly distance apart she felt crowded by his presence.

  Neither spoke. She determined she would not be the first to break the silence. She had nothing more to say to this man.

  He cleared his throat.

  Did he think she would feel compelled to respond? She didn’t.

  He shifted about and leaned over his legs more, bringing his face closer to her.

  She stared at the flames wishing they would leap up, perhaps send out sparks that would force him to move away. But no, the fire burned steadily. She allowed the faintest sigh.

  A log snapped in the fire, causing her nerves to tense.

  If not for Maxie needing her, she’d be tempted to run into the darkness and hide among the bushes.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice so soft his words were almost lost in the crackle of the flames. “I just want to know what happened.”

  She had promised herself she would keep silent, but his continual demand to know more irritated her. “Why? What difference does it make to you or anyone else?” She clamped her teeth together to stop the torrent of words that threatened to pour forth.

  “A few years back I was in a bad state.” His voice was low forcing her to concentrate on his words. “I doubt you know this about me. Few do. But I was married.”

  Sophia watched him as he talked. He stared beyond the flames, his gaze going into his past. Suddenly she was as full of questions about him as he was about her. But she waited, letting him decide how much he cared to tell her.

  “We had set out for Oregon on a wagon train, but Edie was far too adventuresome. Or maybe it was independent. She didn’t always listen to advice. And it got her into trouble.” His voice deepened and Sophia knew without him saying anything more that his wife’s independence had caused something bad to happen.

  “She’d been warned not to wander from camp, but she saw some early berries and wanted to enjoy them. She didn’t tell anyone or ask me to go with her.” He drew in a breath that went on several seconds. “Bears also wanted the berries, and she clashed with one.”

  Sophia gasped.

  He nodded. “The bear tore her so badly she only survived a few hours.” He shuddered. “It was a slow gruesome death for her.”

  His pain palpated through her and, despite her wish to keep her distance both physically and emotionally, she could not withhold comfort and she shifted marginally closer. Close enough she could reach out and squeezed his forearm.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss and what you endured.”

  He nodded, still gazing into the distance. “I blamed myself for not taking better care of her. I blamed her for not listening to advice.” A beat of heavy silence, and then a slow drawing in of air. “I left the Oregon Trail and joined wagons on the Santa Fe Trail. I helped the wagon master and learned a lot, but then one day in Santa Fe, I hit bottom and couldn’t think of any reason to keep on.”

  Sophia tried to imagine a discouraged, defeated Buck, but couldn’t do so.

  Buck’s soft chuckle made her lean closer to look into his face. Why was he laughing?

  He turned to meet her gaze. “As I sat and felt sorry for myself, Maximillian came by. He was happy and laughing, telling everyone he met that he had just bought the fastest horse in all of Mexico and beyond, and would challenge anyone to a race. He was so eager to try his horse that he offered fifty dollars to anyone who would race him. He had quite a few takers, then he saw me. I was leaning against a post doing nothing much and he strode up to me. ‘Mister, join the fun.’ I said I wasn’t interested, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So I raced him. Didn’t win, but by the time the race was over with Maximillian crowing over his win, I’d forgotten my dark thoughts.” Buck chuckled again. “He had a way of enjoying life.”

  Sophia nodded. “I know.”

  Buck’s gaze held hers, deep calling to deep; the shared joy of knowing Maximillian forging a bond.

  “He invited me to join him for supper. By the time the wagon train was ready to leave, I was a different man. Maximillian made me see that life was to be enjoyed. But respected.”

  Sophia stared into the fire. The logs were burning down and the coals danced like they were alive. “That’s what he did for me too.” At first. Then things changed. But she wouldn’t tell Buck that. Let him remember the happy-go-lucky Maximillian. The one upon whom his parents had once doted.

  Buck shifted so he could look directly at her. “I owe Maximillian for his friendship and what it meant to me. That’s why I want to help you. I know he would want me to.”

  The gentleness in Buck’s voice called to Sophia’s heart, but she steeled herself against it. She must think of Maxie and his safety. She reached for the fire as if to warm herself but really, it was to twist away from Buck.

  “Sophia, who are you runn
ing from and why? Let me help you. For Maximillian’s sake. For his memory.”

  Buck almost convinced her. She’d shared some sweet times with Maximillian to begin with.

  “His son should be back in Santa Fe where the Lorenzos are. Where he will be safe and well cared for.”

  She bounded to her feet.

  He blinked then rose, watching her with wariness.

  She leaned closer, her eyes burning with indignation and defense. “He is safe and well cared for now. With me. Just leave us alone.” She needed to push by him to get to the tent for Maxie, but she hesitated to do so.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, but he is Max’s son and heir. Isn’t that important to you?”

  “It means nothing to me. Riches do not mean anything. He is my son and I will take care of him.” She put out her arm to push past him.

  She managed to thank Niteesh for her hospitality though her mouth felt like she’d swallowed half a buffalo robe.

  “Man help you?” Niteesh asked.

  “He tried.” It was the best answer she could give. She thanked the woman again then hurried out with Maxie.

  “Let me carry the boy for you.”

  It seemed it was too much to hope Buck would leave her in peace.

  She turned her back, but Buck held out his arms and Maxie crowed with delight to have a man carry him. Reluctantly she let Buck take him. Which meant she must walk beside him back to the fort.

  Light came from the moon and a nearby campfire, but she had to walk carefully on the uneven ground to keep from stumbling. Buck seemed to realize it and slowed.

  As they neared the gate, six riders approached the fort. The man guarding the gate asked them to identify themselves.

  “Name’s Bart Johnson and this is my crew. We’ve come over the Raton Pass from Santa Fe. Mighty glad to reach this place.”

  Sophia’s feet froze to the ground and she couldn’t move. Who would be coming from Santa Fe and why? She could think of only one answer. The Lorenzos had figured out where she’d gone and sent someone after her.

  Buck realized she no longer followed at his side and turned. “Is something wrong?”

  Her mouth refused to work and she couldn’t answer.

  Buck leaned closer so he could see her face. “You look scared. Why?”

  Still she couldn’t answer.

  He shifted Maxie to one side and Sophia saw her son had fallen asleep in Buck’s arms. For a quick heartbeat she envied Maxie his place of security. Would she ever live without a shadow of fear clinging to her?

  Buck caught her arm and drew her to his side. “You’re safe. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

  His assurance loosened her tongue. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Sophia, why won’t you trust me and let me help you?”

  Trust him? It was tempting. “I can’t. You think I should go back to Santa Fe.”

  He studied her. “Perhaps I would think differently if you explained why you’re so afraid.”

  Maxie snuffled in his sleep reminding Sophia she needed to get him to his bed. And the safety of her room.

  Only how safe would she be if the newcomers had been sent by the Lorenzo family? She couldn’t stay in her room until someone decided to leave the fort in the direction of Independence. She reached for Maxie.

  Buck shook his head. “I’ll carry him. I don’t mind.”

  She forced her feet to move forward.

  Buck stayed at her side, often glancing down at her.

  They reached the gate. Her heart thudded so hard she wondered why Buck didn’t hear it. She couldn’t stay here, not knowing when someone would appear and perhaps snatch Maxie away.

  She’d found no way of leaving. She couldn’t strike out on her own, and no one was prepared to take her.

  Would Buck help her because of his friendship with Maximillian?

  Dare she risk everything based on that friendship?

  * * *

  Buck could feel the fear in Sophia. She moved with a woodenness that made her almost stumble. Her breath came in little puffs that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Something about the newcomers had sent her into a panic.

  At the gate she stopped as if her feet had grown to the ground.

  He halted as well and waited for her to move.

  She backed away. “Can we talk?”

  “Now?” He’d asked her the same question on more than one occasion and each time she’d refused. “Here?” The evening was deepening and the boy slept in his arms. He had to admit he liked the feel of a child’s head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. There was a time he had hoped to enjoy the experience with children of his own. That dream had died along with Edie. After that, he had closed his heart to the possibility, not wanting to risk the pain of loving and losing nor the guilt of failing to protect the one he loved.

  He pulled his thoughts together and looked about. The teamsters at his wagon train were huddled about a fire, with Pete playing his harmonica. “Come with me.” Luke would not object to his taking Sophia to one of his wagons. They could talk there without being overheard. He led the way, half expecting Sophia to object and refuse to accompany him, but she followed readily enough.

  At the back of the wagon he held out his free hand to help her climb into the back, then got in with little Maxie still sleeping in his arms. “He sleeps soundly, doesn’t he?” he commented as he seated himself on the wagon floor.

  “I can take him.” Sophia reached out for her son.

  “No need to disturb him.” Though he wondered what it would take to waken the boy.

  She settled back against the side of the wagon. “You and Maximillian were friends.”

  He saw no need to respond as she knew the answer.

  “May I presume upon that friendship?” She sat facing the fire and the shadows of the flames through the canvas filled her face with hard plans. He heard the uncertainty in her voice.

  “I want to help in any way I can.”

  She nodded, swallowed hard, and rubbed her lips together before she spoke again, slowly and so softly he leaned closer to hear her. “I need someone to take me to Independence right away. Will you?”

  He sat back, too surprised to answer.

  “I must go right away.”

  “What is so urgent that you want to set out in bad weather with a baby and, I presume, without the protection of a full wagon train?” The logistics of it and the extent of the risks appalled him. Before he would point those out he wanted to hear her explanation.

  “I don’t expect you to understand my reasons.”

  “I’m afraid I must know them before I would contemplate such a journey.”

  She pulled her feet under her and prepared to stand.

  He caught her arm, remembering how her touch back at the tent of his Indian friends had helped ease the pain of his memories of Edie. Could he hope his hand on her arm would do the same and make her tell him what was really going on? “Sophia, if we’re to travel together, trust will be absolutely essential. Why not start now?”

  She settled back down and looked at his hand on her arm but did not shake it off. He left it there, feeling that somehow he offered protection.

  “Very well, I don’t expect you to believe me, but I’ll tell you what I am afraid of.” Her voice grew hoarse. “Maximillian’s parents want to take Maxie from me and raise him to be a proper Lorenzo. They don’t want me in the picture. They don’t think I am a fit parent.”

  He could understand why they wanted their grandson, but to take him from Sophia seemed harsh. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

  She shook off his hand. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Forget it.”

  “They doted on Maximillian. Why wouldn’t they welcome both you and Maxie with open arms?”

  Her scowl was exaggerated in the harsh light of the fire. “You said it yourself. Max could do better than marry a poor servant girl like me.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to
hear me.” Somehow he knew that wouldn’t soothe her. “I simply thought he was doing it for all the wrong reasons and you’d both end up hurt.”

  “Congratulations. Turns out you were right.”

  He felt nothing but sorrow at her words. At the tremor in her voice, he wished he could comfort her in some way. He shifted around so they were shoulder to shoulder. “I am sorry. What happened?”

  She shuddered. “Maximillian’s parents disowned him. We were forced to live in a tiny house. I didn’t mind. I was used to living poorly but Maximillian resented it, and he soon grew to resent me for being the cause.” Her voice quivered.

  Buck’s heart squeezed at the sound. He slipped an arm about her shoulders, surprised when she didn’t resist. Here he sat, the man who meant to spend his life guarding his heart, holding a woman in one arm and a baby in the other. And it felt just right. Of course, it was only temporary so he didn’t have to worry about the risks of the position he was in.

  “Maximillian started drinking.”

  Buck closed his eyes against the knowledge of what that meant. He’d seen how mean Max could get. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shrugged. “There are many ways to be hurt.”

  “True enough.” His arm tightened about her and she leaned against him. Something inside him warmed as if the flames had leapt through the canvas and landed in his chest. He wanted to make things right for Sophia and her son. “He provided for you, didn’t he?”

  “He wouldn’t get real work. His job, he said, was to run the Lorenzo ranch.”

  “How did you survive?” He was almost afraid to ask.

  “Mama made sure we had food. Other than that, I survived as I always have. But don’t worry, I can pay for passage. Maximillian had gambled and won a small stash of gold, and I inherited it after he died.”

  “How did he die?”