Where the Lost Wander_ A Novel - Amy Harmon Page 0,50
a world she’s not ready to face, but as I climb down from the wagon, I hear the crinkling of the page and know she’s just been waiting for me to go. I’ve only taken a few steps beyond the Caldwells’ wagon when the crying starts. Great gulping sobs rip from Elmeda’s throat, and I press my hand to my heart, willing my compassion to leave me be. I have no strength for it. Adam and Jeb stare at me, and Jeb rises, handing me their empty bowls. Either they wiped every last taste with their tongues or they’ve rinsed them clean. Ma was right. They were hungry and needed supper.
“Thank you, Naomi,” Jeb says. I nod, distracting myself with the dishes and swooping up the empty stewpot that someone has finished off.
“Crying is better than silence,” Jeb says. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after her.”
I nod again, and without a word for Mr. Caldwell, I hurry back to my own fire, as far from Elmeda Caldwell’s sobs as I can get. And I continue to watch for John and Wyatt.
With the moon so huge and high, the prairie is lit up well enough to travel. Some members of the train want to resume walking after supper to make up for lost days, but Abbott appeals to the men—who have gathered in council without us womenfolk—to hold up one more night to let the ill rest, as well as those who’ve been tending to them. He doesn’t mention Wyatt and John, but he’s added another guard to the rotation to make sure no one else’s animals turn up missing. I hear Pa telling Ma everything that was discussed, the way he always does.
I pitch John’s tent in case he comes back in the middle of the night, but when dawn comes, I have to take it down again.
Breakfast is cleared, and the oxen are yoked in when Webb begins to shout. “I see ’em. I see Wyatt and Mr. Lowry and the mules!”
I begin to run, following Webb’s voice, shading my eyes against the glare of the rising sun. I hear Webb clambering down from the wagon box behind me, where he’s been on lookout since dawn, but I am the first to reach them.
John is listing in the saddle, Wyatt too, and for a minute I can’t tell who is who. They are both riding mules, and Wyatt is wearing John’s black felt hat, though beneath it his cheeks are scarlet. His jaw is clenched, and his hands are fisted tight in Trick’s wiry mane. He’s exhausted, fighting for control of his emotions. John lifts his head enough to greet us, but he can’t dismount by himself. I reach for him, not caring who’s watching, but Wyatt is suddenly there beside me, his arms upraised, and together we pull John down, supporting him between us.
“Where’s Dame, John? Didn’t ya find Dame?” Webb asks, incredulous, looking over the mules. Will and Pa and Warren have come running. Ma too, and Warren and Will start herding the animals toward the water.
“We found her,” Wyatt says, and his voice cracks with emotion. “But I lost my hat. John made me wear his.”
“Where is she, John?” Webb presses, his chin starting to wobble.
John doesn’t answer, and I’m not sure he’s completely conscious of anything but his feet and the next step. Wyatt speaks for him.
“Some Pawnee braves found the mules. They wanted two of them. One of mine, one of John’s. But John wouldn’t let ’em go. He gave ’em Dame instead.”
“Dame’s livin’ with the Indians now?” Webb cried.
“Shh, Webb. It’s all right,” John mutters. “It’s better this way.”
“What took you so long? I thought you was never comin’ back!” Webb howled, giving voice to everyone’s feelings. It has been a long twenty-four hours.
“We had to go slow, almost as slow as the oxen do, ’cause John could hardly stay in the saddle,” Wyatt says. “But he did. He did, and we made it. And we got the mules.”
“That’s right. You’re here now,” Ma says, patting Wyatt’s sunburned cheeks.
“You did good, Wyatt,” John murmurs. “I’m proud of you.” And Wyatt can only nod, his tears creating dirty stripes across the red.
“You’re all grown up, Wyatt. All grown up,” Ma whispers. “And you’re a fine man.”
John rides in the back of Warren’s wagon for two days, too weak to do much but sleep and eat the little bit of mush I force upon him. Pa says if I am going to spend so much time