Bart became alert when someone entered the wagon from the back. He could tell it was a girl from her silhouette. She bent to pick something up and then turned to leave.
"Can you tell me where I am and how I got here?" he whispered.
"Oh, you're awake," said the excited girl. "How are you feeling? Do your injuries hurt?"
"My face feels terrible and hurts when I talk. My back feels stiff but doesn’t hurt too much. Where are we?" Their conversation filtered through the thin canvas bonnet to the ears of the girl’s parents. Mrs. Douglas looked at her husband and then started to rise to lend her assistance, but her husband pulled her back. “Why don’t we let Liz spend time with the young man, explaining the circumstances?” She nodded and sat back down.
"We're part of a wagon train traveling to a little town called Flat Peaks in Colorado. Right now we're in Kansas. I don't know the exact location," the girl answered. "Mama and I have been taking care of you since I found you five days ago. You've been awfully sick."
"I've been unconscious for five days?” Bart couldn't see her nod. Time passed before he said, "I sure appreciate everything you've done, me being a total stranger to you. Can you tell me your name?”
"My name is Liz, Liz Douglas."
"That's a right pretty name, Liz." She blushed, but the redness didn't show in the dark.
"My name is Bart Carter," he said. Liz felt guilty for not saying she already knew, but that could come later. She rose. "Don't know where my manners are. I'll bet you’re starving? Mama cooked some good stew for supper, and I believe there's some left. I'll get you a bowl, but you won't be able to eat very much since you've been without food for so long."
"I'd be obliged if it's not too much of a bother." Bart's mouth was watering in anticipation of the food. She started to leave but then turned and asked if he wanted a cup of coffee to go with his meal.
"I'd be thankful for a cup," he answered.
∙•∙
When Liz came to the fire, her mother had a bowl of stew and a steaming cup of coffee ready for her on the sitting board. “He’s awake. You must have heard our conversation?" whispered Liz very quietly. "Bart seems like a nice person. Do you want to help feed him, Mama?"
"No, you're doing a fine job. Just don't rush matters. There'll be time for the details later. And Liz, light a candle for him to eat by."
Later, when everyone was sleeping, Bart lay thinking about his situation. He was lucky the Douglas family had taken him in and doctored him, but he couldn't depend on them much longer—it wouldn't be right, them not being family. The thought of family brought back sad memories. When his Pa died a week ago, he was left with no living relatives.
Suddenly, he thought of Maude. What had become of her? He remembered she was tied to his wrist when he left the hill country. Maybe the Indians got her. He'd ask Liz about her tomorrow.
His fingers started exploring his damaged cheek. The gash was worse than he remembered. Even though the cheek hole into his mouth had been sewn closed, the injury seemed wider with hard tissue surrounding it. Several minutes later he was asleep.
The rattling of cooking pans woke him. He could hear folks up and about, doing their morning chores before starting their travel. He wanted to join them but didn't know if he was strong enough. Just then, Liz climbed into the wagon with a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee. He pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Good morning, Bart," she said with a cheerful voice. "I hope you're feeling better? We'll be moving out soon, so eat up. I'll need to wash your plate before leaving." Bart was embarrassed to have her serve him but took the food and handed the empty plate back within minutes.
After she had left the wagon, an image of Liz filled Bart’s mind. She was tall, as skinny as a rail, with light red hair, braided into pigtails that hung to her shoulder blades. She had a big mouth with puffy lips, and her hazel green eyes appeared too large for her face. She had a tiny nose covered with freckles—it seemed like freckles covered her entire body, at least the part visible. She's not nearly as pretty as some of the girls in Blainsboro. Besides, she looks way too young for me.
Bart threw back his blankets and struggled to his hands and knees in an attempt to rise. He was about to stand when he heard footsteps coming up to the wagon, probably Liz again. Remembering he was only wearing underdrawers, he quickly sat back down under the covers. It was Mrs. Douglas.
“Good morning, Bart. I’m Alice Douglas, Liz’s mother. You had us worried for several days, young man,” she said with a smile. “We’re glad you’re doing better.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Douglas. I sure am grateful for all you’ve done for me. I’d be a goner without your help.” After a few seconds, Bart said with a sheepish voice, “Mrs. Douglas, I'll need some clothes if I'm to get out of bed. I'm only wearing underdrawers."
"Bart, I think it would be best for you to remain in the wagon until we stop for the night. Your body is still weak, and we don't want to rush things. It’ll only take a few days to get your strength back, you being so young. Tonight you can join us outside. Liz will bring you a pair of her papa's pants and a shirt—they'll be too large but will have to do until we can find some that fit."
"What happened to mine?" Bart asked.
"Your pants are soaked with blood and dirt. We’ll wash them as soon as we find time and water. I'm sorry Bart, but the whip lashes cut your shirt into ribbons. It wasn’t repairable.”
“It's wonderful you took me in, but what's to become of me now?” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed the words. “I don't have anyone to help me. My family's all gone. I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I know I look a mess. My hair needs to be cut, and the scar on my cheek is ugly. I look terrible, Mrs. Douglas, what's to become of me?”
∙•∙
Knowing words weren’t appropriate, Mrs. Douglas kneeled beside Bart and pulled him into her arms. For a long time, they clung together, both with tears running down their faces. Douglas had heard it all through the thin bonnet wall and knew a bond was being knitted. Where the bond would lead, he didn't know, but he felt sure Bart would somehow become a part of their lives.
Captain Willard rode up as Douglas stood listening to the voices inside the wagon. "Better hitch up your team, Douglas, we're leaving in ten minutes," barked the captain.
"We'll be along in a few minutes," Douglas answered. The captain looked at him with a concerned expression and then turned and rode to the front.
Douglas had already hitched his team to the wagon and loaded the two pack animals. All that remained was tying them to the back of the wagon. When he brought them to the rear of the wagon, the mule stuck her head inside and pointed her long ears toward her master.
"It's Maude,” exclaimed Bart. “I've been wondering what happened to you." Pulling away from Mrs. Douglas, he crawled to Maude and hugged her neck. Then he heard Liz's approach, and remembering his drawers, went for his covers with a red face.
Both Mrs. Douglas and Bart had heard the captain’s orders and knew it was time to leave. She had started toward the front wagon seat but turned back to Bart with a smile and said, "If you'd like, I'd be happy to cut your hair this evening. I've cut my husband's for years."