The Cowboy Who Saved Christmas - Jodi Thomas Page 0,9

rode for a while, listening to the girls talk. Finally, as the afternoon dragged on, the conversations about school stopped.

Mrs. Adams touched his shoulder as she looked back. “They’re sleeping,” she whispered.

He nodded, still having no idea how to talk to the widow.

“They’re sweet little things, aren’t they?” she finally broke the silence.

“They are,” he managed to say, then asked, “You got family in Dallas?”

“No. I just have to start over and I thought Dallas would be as good a place as any.” She straightened. “I think that the war made widows and orphans of us all.”

They rode along without talking after that. He didn’t want to tell her all he’d lost and he guessed she felt the same. Now and then he did glance at her hands. Her fingers were tightly laced on her lap. Nothing about her seemed relaxed. The band of gold on her left hand reminded him of what she had lost. A husband. The safety of a home, maybe. Any chance of having children.

At sunset they camped by a little stream. The day was warm for December. The girls took off their jackets and ran around, playing a game of tag. Trapper dropped a few fishing poles in the water, hoping to get lucky. Number Two, the shyest one of the girls, said she’d watch them.

By the time Mrs. Adams and Trapper set up camp and got a fire going, Two had caught three fish. The widow cooked a simple supper of fish and potatoes with biscuits.

“Tomorrow we’ll be heading into open country.” Trapper talked while they ate. “You all have to stay close to the wagon.” He looked at Four.

All the girls nodded.

When he came back from taking care of the team and Midnight, he found all the girls asleep in the wagon. Mrs. Adams was wrapping biscuits to save for breakfast.

“Thanks for coming,” he said.

“You are welcome. I enjoyed today more than I’ve enjoyed any day in a long time. It was good to see the farms.”

“Me too.” He thought it might just be the best day he’d had in years. “I know it’s probably not proper for me to ask, but I’d like to know your first name.”

She turned away for a moment, and he thought she might not answer. “My mother named me after her family, Emery, but people call me Em.”

“What do you like to be called?”

“Emery.” She smiled. “No one has ever called me by my full name.”

“You think I could, Emery?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

“How old were you when you married?”

She looked away again. “Can we not talk about the past?”

Trapper watched her carefully, wondering what hardships she’d faced. “Of course.” She stood, and so did he. He offered his hand to help her into the wagon. “Good night, Emery.”

To his surprise, when she stepped up equal to his height, she leaned and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. You don’t know it, but you saved my life today.”

Then she disappeared into the crowded wagon.

Chapter 5

Emery sat on the bench watching the days pass and the brown winter land drift by. The wagon of little girls was moving farther away from any civilization. Each mile she calmed knowing there was less chance her father would find her. He’d beat her sister the first time she’d run away. She couldn’t walk for days, but as soon as she was strong enough she ran again.

Emery hoped she made it to that better life this time.

Farms and small groups of family homes often gathered in a circle. Trapper said they were often called forts because the group felt safer together. But she spotted homes or barns less and less as the road became more of a trail. Even the weather seemed wild away from all civilization and the wind howled at night like a wild animal.

A comfortable loneliness settled over her. She enjoyed the girls, but they weren’t hers. She’d left her family and was surprised how much at peace she was about her choice. Part of her lived inside her memories when all she wanted to do was forget them. To do that, she’d have to make a new life.

Trapper was always polite. He never asked too many questions and when she didn’t answer one, he didn’t seem to mind.

They talked from time to time, but neither had much to say. He told her he’d been a gambler. When he asked if she’d ever been in a saloon, she knew he truly didn’t know she’d been the ragged girl who’d served