away from Wolf and back to the captain. ‘‘My two wagons are returning to Fort Laramie. We have three others along. We are hoping that’’—she drew in a deep breath, wishing for a private place to talk with Wolf— ‘‘Wolf, er . . . Mr. Torstead will change his mind and take our train west after all.’’ She watched the shutter drop over his eyes and the rest of his face. Clearly, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
‘‘Ah, then I have a feeling you two could use some time alone to discuss your—um . . .’’ Captain Jensen turned to his wife. ‘‘Come, dear, we can go help Clara with the dessert.’’ The two of them exited the room, leaving a curious silence behind. Jesselynn studied her fingers, finding bits of dirt still under her fingernails. Without her knife, it would have to stay there. She snuck glances at Wolf, who stood looking out the parlor window. He hadn’t moved since the Jensens left the room.
‘‘How much damage did your wagons suffer?’’ Lord, can I convince her to come with me?
At the sound of his voice, her heart jumped into her throat. ‘‘Ah, not much. They were at the end of the train, and the stampede started when lightning hit the lead wagon. Aunt Agatha and Benjamin kept their oxen in hand.’’ Please, turn and look at me .
‘‘Where were you?’’ I know I am rushing her, but we must have a camp for winter—if she will stay .
‘‘With the herd.’’ She told him of the almost stampede and the hollow. ‘‘It could have been terribly tragic.’’
‘‘You were wise to not take the shortcut with the others. They will lose more oxen that way.’’ The silence deepened again.
Wolf, we need you. Please take us on to Oregon. We’ll pay you double if you’ll guide our train . Practicing what to say did not make the saying of it any easier. She knit her fingers so tightly together that they cramped.
‘‘Why are you going to Oregon?’’
‘‘For the free land, so that Meshach can start a new life. He wants to be a free man where no one will look down on him or call him ‘boy’ again.’’
‘‘So that is why Meshach is going. What about you?’’ He turned to study her with his dark eyes.
‘‘They say the land will grow anything, horse feed included.’’ She twisted her mouth to one side, sighed, and looked straight at him. ‘‘To get away from the war. I want nothing to do with slavery and war ever again.’’
‘‘Why does it have to be Oregon?’’ The question hung in the stillness.
‘‘I . . . I reckon I don’t really know. We tried Missouri, and Daniel nearly got lynched. Kansas was worse with Quantrill’s Raiders, so we decided on Oregon and went ahead with obtaining supplies. We hope Oregon is far enough away from the South that we can build a new life.’’
He took two steps across the room to where the lamplight burnished his face and threw his eyes into shadow. ‘‘You could have the same in Wyoming.’’
‘‘I’ve heard the winters can be fierce in Wyoming.’’ She stared into his eyes. What is it you are saying? Her throat dried. Her heart speeded up.
‘‘My people know how to live through the winter. And after the snow comes spring. There are wild horses to be caught. Our herd would grow quickly that way.’’
Was it a slip of his tongue? Had he really said ‘our’? ‘‘What are you saying?’’ Jesselynn’s fingers shook, so she hid them in her skirt.
Wolf took two more steps, reached for her hands, and pulled her to her feet. With their hands clutched between them, he stared down at her. After taking a deep breath and letting it out, he spoke so softly she was forced to lean ever closer. ‘‘I am asking you to marry me. We can homestead in the hills above the Chugwater. The grass grows rich in the spring, and there are wild flowers the blue of your dress.’’ He fingered the puff of one sleeve.
‘‘Milady’s eyes.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘That’s what some call these
‘‘Ah, then I have a feeling you two could use some time alone to discuss your—um . . .’’ Captain Jensen turned to his wife. ‘‘Come, dear, we can go help Clara with the dessert.’’ The two of them exited the room, leaving a curious silence behind. Jesselynn studied her fingers, finding bits of dirt still under her fingernails. Without her knife, it would have to stay there. She snuck glances at Wolf, who stood looking out the parlor window. He hadn’t moved since the Jensens left the room.
‘‘How much damage did your wagons suffer?’’ Lord, can I convince her to come with me?
At the sound of his voice, her heart jumped into her throat. ‘‘Ah, not much. They were at the end of the train, and the stampede started when lightning hit the lead wagon. Aunt Agatha and Benjamin kept their oxen in hand.’’ Please, turn and look at me .
‘‘Where were you?’’ I know I am rushing her, but we must have a camp for winter—if she will stay .
‘‘With the herd.’’ She told him of the almost stampede and the hollow. ‘‘It could have been terribly tragic.’’
‘‘You were wise to not take the shortcut with the others. They will lose more oxen that way.’’ The silence deepened again.
Wolf, we need you. Please take us on to Oregon. We’ll pay you double if you’ll guide our train . Practicing what to say did not make the saying of it any easier. She knit her fingers so tightly together that they cramped.
‘‘Why are you going to Oregon?’’
‘‘For the free land, so that Meshach can start a new life. He wants to be a free man where no one will look down on him or call him ‘boy’ again.’’
‘‘So that is why Meshach is going. What about you?’’ He turned to study her with his dark eyes.
‘‘They say the land will grow anything, horse feed included.’’ She twisted her mouth to one side, sighed, and looked straight at him. ‘‘To get away from the war. I want nothing to do with slavery and war ever again.’’
‘‘Why does it have to be Oregon?’’ The question hung in the stillness.
‘‘I . . . I reckon I don’t really know. We tried Missouri, and Daniel nearly got lynched. Kansas was worse with Quantrill’s Raiders, so we decided on Oregon and went ahead with obtaining supplies. We hope Oregon is far enough away from the South that we can build a new life.’’
He took two steps across the room to where the lamplight burnished his face and threw his eyes into shadow. ‘‘You could have the same in Wyoming.’’
‘‘I’ve heard the winters can be fierce in Wyoming.’’ She stared into his eyes. What is it you are saying? Her throat dried. Her heart speeded up.
‘‘My people know how to live through the winter. And after the snow comes spring. There are wild horses to be caught. Our herd would grow quickly that way.’’
Was it a slip of his tongue? Had he really said ‘our’? ‘‘What are you saying?’’ Jesselynn’s fingers shook, so she hid them in her skirt.
Wolf took two more steps, reached for her hands, and pulled her to her feet. With their hands clutched between them, he stared down at her. After taking a deep breath and letting it out, he spoke so softly she was forced to lean ever closer. ‘‘I am asking you to marry me. We can homestead in the hills above the Chugwater. The grass grows rich in the spring, and there are wild flowers the blue of your dress.’’ He fingered the puff of one sleeve.
‘‘Milady’s eyes.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘That’s what some call these
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