Five

Em stood on the front porch, quietly looking heavenward. The sun had yet to rise. The only light came from one lantern and the lustrous night lights that had not yet bowed to the morning sun. Sheriff Reynolds rode toward her, the sound of his horse drawing her eyes back down to the earth.

“You didn’t need to stand outside waiting for me. I would’ve fetched you.” He tapped the brim of his hat.

She hadn’t thought of that. She’d only thought of being ready and being silent so she wouldn’t wake her little roommates. “I didn’t mind waiting. Where is your wagon?” As if on cue, the giant horse whinnied in her direction.

“We’ll go much faster on Amos.” He patted the horse’s side. “Besides, a wagon could hardly get through on those overgrown roads. Come over here and meet him. He’s nothing but a gentle giant. I’ll help you up. I’ll be careful of your side.” He swung himself out of the saddle. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he said as he slowly placed his hands on her waist. “Is that all right?”

She struggled to breathe. “Yes. My injury is lower than that.” She took a step closer, preparing herself to be lifted onto the animal.

“Are you sure I’m not gonna hurt you?” he asked while standing with his hands on her waist.

“It hurts less all the time.” Amos snorted then, making Em’s already racing heart increase its pace. Uncomfortable with the idea of riding the horse and the lingering touch of his hands, she broke free, putting space between them.

“I can’t ride a horse. I did once when I left George’s place. But I was desperate and even then I fell off. I don’t remember the falling part, only waking in the woods afterward. I just don’t know much about horses. Well, I know that I am supposed to give them hay and rub them down, but I don’t know how to ride,” she said. “I can’t ride on him. I just can’t.”

Caleb stepped forward and took her hand. “It’ll be all right, Em. I’ll be right behind you. You won’t fall off this time. Who knows, you may even enjoy it. Riding out to your place was a mighty pretty ride. And old Amos is a good, tall horse—you just can’t beat the view from his back.” He reached for her again. She darted back a step. He waited.

There she stood in the shadows, unsure what to do next. The seconds ticked by. After a long moment of silence, he reached for her once more. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Oh, how she wanted to. She wanted to have someone to trust again.

Do I dare?

Can I?

From inside the Howells’ home she heard the now-familiar sound of Abigail starting a fire in the kitchen. Soon she would fix breakfast for her family. They’d eat together, amiably talking about the coming day, and a verse of Scripture would be read before they parted. For the Howells and their safety, she would do this hard thing.

She nodded as she stepped close to Caleb and the mighty animal. His hands came around her waist again. He lifted her up a bit, but she winced.

“I’m sorry.” He set her back on her feet. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He led her and Amos near the front steps. With Amos close to the steps and them on the top one, he was able to cradle her like a child and set her carefully into the saddle. She fumbled around on the horse trying to find a comfortable way to sit. As she adjusted her dress the best she could, she wondered how one was supposed to sit modestly while riding a horse. Still fixing her skirts, she felt Caleb swing up behind her in one graceful movement.

She thought she’d been uncomfortable on the horse before, but now, with him so close, she could hardly breathe. Never had she sat so close to a man, his body touching hers. He took the reins in one hand and put his free arm around her, steadying her and stealing her breath at the same time.

With a click of his tongue, Caleb commanded the beast forward. Out of town they went, away from Azure Springs, away from the Howells, away from the new life she’d found. Em soon forgot about the arm around her waist and the Prince of Azure Springs sitting behind her. She felt as though she were floating through magical woods. She could almost believe she’d stepped into one of her own stories as they soared across the dimly lit landscape. Wind brushed her cheek and worked its way through her hair. Fresh, cool morning air seeped into her lungs, and with it came life and energy. She sighed, overwhelmed by it all.

“Riding in the early morning is my favorite,” Caleb said. “There’s something about the world as it wakes and comes alive that I like. When I was small, my brothers and I often slept out under the stars. All the frightening night noises were worth it for this moment at dawn. Did you ever do that?”

“I was a child in a city that never sleeps. New York is rarely peaceful.” She remembered the morning noises of New York. The milkman, the women yelling, the babies crying. “I don’t remember ever enjoying a morning like this.”

“Why did you leave the city?”

The fresh air, the dreamlike landscape, the peace all seemed to disappear as she thought back to those days of desperation that had pushed her from her city. “I left because there was no way for me to stay. Survival demanded it.”

“Did you run away? Is that how you came to live with George? You can tell me.” His voice coming from behind her sounded so kind. She wanted to tell him her sad tale, but something else pulled at her to keep it all locked up.

She squirmed in the saddle, feeling like a trapped animal. She thought of Caleb’s outstretched hand and words of trust and forced herself to talk, to fight against the urge to keep her story locked away. “I came by train when I was twelve. Have you heard of orphan trains?”

“Orphan trains?” Without seeing him, she knew he was shaking his head. “No. Never.”

“They’re trains that come from the city. They’re full of children who don’t have homes. They stop in all the towns along the way. Most places the preacher in the town helps coordinate families for the children. At least that’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s how I came to live with George.” Em wished she could hide. Wished she could be off the back of the giant beast—alone, not here, with him. But she was not alone, and now she knew a slew of questions would follow and the past would be fresh again.

“They do that? They just put children on a train and let anyone take them?” Caleb asked.

Em grasped the saddle tightly, her knuckles turning white. “Not just anyone. At least it isn’t supposed to be just anyone. Most places there are rules. I just happened to end up in a town with a preacher who didn’t care. I don’t even know the name of the town I was in. George was passing through when he picked me up. It was all a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

Her shoulders shuddered as she remembered that fateful, wretched day. She’d stood with her number pinned to her dress just like she had at all the stops. Eager parents gathered around the children. Some scrutinizing from a distance. Others approaching. Some were even so bold as to look at the children’s teeth as though they were animals at auction. One by one, occasionally two at a time, the children were ushered off the stage. A few customary papers were signed and the children disappeared with the adults who had claimed them.

There she stood. Her still-fresh burns ached in the heat of the sun and sweat ran down her face. She stood straight and tall, a smile plastered on her face just like the women of the Aid Society had prompted her to do. Promising them good homes if they would only comply. But her heart was not in it.

There had been so many stops and always she had been ushered back onto the train. Only a few children were left and everyone was eager to be done with this trip west. She too was ready to be done, vowing never to set foot on a platform or train again. Hating the scrutiny. Hating the rejection. Hating the ache that lived inside of her.

The voices of the women from the Aid Society and the preacher found their way to her ears. “Can you not find homes for these last few?” one woman asked the preacher. “This trip has already taken so long. We need to get back to the city.”

The preacher glanced Em’s way, scanning her up and down, then said loud enough for her to hear, “I don’t think I’ll be able to find anyone willing to take her. I’ll do what I can with the others.” He left then and meandered through the crowd, stopping to talk to several couples in his path. Em watched as some nodded their heads yes, others no. Soon all the children who had stood beside her had found hands to hold. And there she stood. Alone. Unwanted.

Never in all Em’s years of struggle had she felt so small. So unloved. So worthless. From the shadows of a tall maple stepped an older man. He was dirty, his clothes nearly threadbare. He didn’t smile or meet her eyes. With a slow tread, he walked to the preacher. Neither man seemed to care if they were overheard.

“I’ll take the girl,” the man, George, said. The preacher said no to him, that the children were to go to families. George put up no fight but simply turned and started walking away.

Then Em heard the preacher say, “Well, all right, then. You look decent enough.” And that was that. She walked away with the stranger. The exciting new life the Aid Society had promised turned out to be a pile of straw in a barn, working for a man who rarely talked and provided little by way of nourishment.

Why was it all coming back now? She knew she shouldn’t talk about her past. It only made her remember, and remembering hurt. Caleb must have felt her tense with emotion. His arm tightened ever so slightly around her middle. Then, swiftly, he changed the subject. “I’m sure the Howells told you about the coming social. Everyone attends. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Eliza talks of it often. She has a new dress she plans to wear. But I have no notion of attending, nor any desire to.”

“You might have to go. Not have to, I suppose, but you shouldn’t be alone and everyone attends. I think you’ll like it. There are a lot of good people in our town.” Caleb stopped then and slid out of the saddle. He reached up and helped her down.

She watched silently as he took the horse to the creek and let the animal drink. When he looked back at her, she knew he was waiting for some sort of a reply.

“I’ve never been to a social. I don’t plan to attend now. It might be better if you taught me to shoot and left me with a pistol. I think I would stand a better chance against the bandits than at a social.”

“Teaching you to shoot isn’t a half-bad idea. But leaving you isn’t going to happen.” He spoke firmly but kindly. Again she felt that he meant it and wondered what kind of a man Caleb Reynolds truly was. “Maybe I’ll let you take a shot or two this afternoon after we find what we are looking for.”

“I’d like that. I sure could’ve used a gun all those years at George’s.” Humor crept into her voice, but Caleb didn’t seem to hear it.

He walked to her. His large hands grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him. Fire flashed in his eyes. “To protect yourself from him?”

“No. No, George was never mean. Neglectful and careless but not harsh. I stayed clear of him if he’d been drinking and kept in the barn whenever I could. I saw how men can treat women when I lived in the city. I knew how to make myself scarce. I never needed a gun with George. I would have hunted with one. As it was, I had to be resourceful and create my own means of catching dinner.” Em smiled then. She stood a little straighter. She may not have eaten well, but she had managed to survive largely due to her own tactics.

Caleb laughed then. A big, body-shaking laugh. Rich and deep.

Slowly it stopped, and soon only his shoulders shuddered and his eyes gleamed. “I’m sorry, Em, but the image of tiny you out making traps and catching critters. I never would have thought an itty-bitty thing like you could manage. What did you do when you caught something?”

Being laughed at was not new to Em. Always it had cut at her, but this time it didn’t. Rather than causing her to shrink away or lash out in anger, it made her smile. “When I caught something, I killed it, usually with sharpened sticks or rocks. It was hard at first, seeing as I never did anything like that before. It got easier with time, but I would not miss it if I never had to live like that again.”

“You surprise me, Em. A regular frontiersman—sorry, woman—you are.” He led Amos to a fallen tree and using it as a stepping stool, he lifted Em gently back into the saddle. Before urging Amos on, he said, “Know this, not all men treat women the way you saw in the city. There are good ones out there.”

Em didn’t reply. But she thought on his words.

Em’s peculiar life tale kept him entertained as he led Amos onward. Never had he heard of orphan trains or pictured a girl out trapping critters with homemade traps. She was different, there was no denying it. He wanted to ask her more. He wanted to pry the secrets of her past out of her, make sense of it all, but he had felt her closing up on him and didn’t want to lose what little trust he’d gained.

The ride itself had been swift and easy. Em weighed next to nothing and didn’t seem to slow Amos at all. She was new in a saddle and hadn’t learned to sway with the horse yet. But she was tough. Not once did she complain about the ride. A little practice and she would be a regular horsewoman.

Warm morning sun penetrated their backs as they approached the burnt dugout and barn that Em had called home for so many years. The thought of it made him angry. What kind of a preacher would let a little girl leave into the woods with a strange man and let her live so desperately for so long? Given the chance, he sure would like to meet that preacher—and George too. He’d give them a piece of his mind or a piece of his fist. But there’d be no vengeance. George’s fate was in the Lord’s hands.

Caleb hopped off the horse and then carefully helped Em down. Her eyes judiciously scanned the area. He saw no fear in her and heard no fear when she spoke. “Sheriff, do you think we’re alone?”

He too assessed the area, ears and eyes focused as he searched the surroundings. “I think we are. I don’t see any signs of others. Here, take this.” He handed her his pistol and took his rifle from its sleeve. “Just in case.”

“I don’t know how to shoot,” she whispered as she took the weapon.

“Pull this back, aim for your target, and pull the trigger,” he said as he pointed to the different parts of the gun. “I’ll give you a better lesson later, but at least you’ll stand a chance with that in your hands. Just don’t point it at me—even if I do say something I shouldn’t.” Still bothered by his own heartlessness the other night, he longed to apologize. But he couldn’t bear to bring it up. Em didn’t seem to be holding a grudge—he was grateful for that olive branch. Grateful she was different from other girls, girls who took joy in making a man grovel.

The two walked the path toward the house and barn. Neither speaking. Their steps noiseless, stealthy.

“Stay here and I’ll check the house and barn. If it’s clear, we’ll go in together,” he said softly over his shoulder.

Em nodded and crouched behind an enormous tree, gun held ready. Then quickly he made his way back through the house and barn only to find that they looked the same as when he’d been there last. He saw no new prints on the ground, and even George’s grave was untouched. “Come on out, Em. It’s clear.”

Her skirts blew in the breeze as she walked up the path toward him. “I passed George’s grave. Thank you again for burying him.”

He nodded in the direction of the grave. “You lead the way—let’s see this place where George used to go.”

Em stepped in front of him and led him down a crude path that ran along the edge of a small valley. Caleb held Amos’s reins and together they made their way across George’s land. On the far side, they turned and walked up the side of the bluff. She stopped and pointed to a tree. “See there, that’s the remains of one of my traps.”

A bit of rope was dangling over a tree branch, set with a stick and looped. He’d seen snares before and even used them as a boy. His pa had taught his brothers how to tie them and they’d taught him. He couldn’t imagine figuring it out on his own. Fingering the frayed rope, he inspected it. “This is a fine snare. Even my brothers, who could be hard to please, would applaud you.”

“It worked fairly well. Just for small animals. Rabbit mostly. I caught rats and squirrels in the barn.” She pointed to a large flat rock. “I would also prop up a flat rock like that one with a stick and put a morsel of food under it. I only did it at night though. The rock usually killed them and I’d have to take care of them right away when I heard the rock fall.”

Never had he been hungry enough to eat rat. In fact, he’d never truly gone hungry before. Sure, he’d run in after a long day in the sun and told his ma he was starving. But in truth he’d rarely ever missed a meal. Living off rats and squirrels and other vermin, no wonder this girl was as small as she was.

She stopped near the top of the bluff. “Just over the edge on the other side of the bluff is a cluster of trees. When George would come home, he always went there first. I saw him a few times but never investigated much. The only time George got real mad at me was when he saw me sitting in the bluff after he had visited the grove. I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t even know he would be home. He was madder than I ever saw him. Just cussing and pacing, kicking at the ground. I stayed pretty clear of this portion of land from then on. Whenever I felt myself getting just about curious enough to risk his anger and go exploring, I focused on dreams I still hoped to live for.”

“See, you were more than surviving,” Caleb said. “It’s safe now. No angry George is going to stop us from exploring. Let’s see what we can find.”

The towering cottonwoods and oak trees created a canopy from the sun. It felt cooler, secretive among the trees. Caleb figured in this cluster were thirty to forty big trees, countless other smaller ones, and a slew of fallen dead ones or standing stumps. Not knowing what he was looking for, it could be a long day.

“Let’s start at different ends and see if we can search faster that way. I sure wish we knew what we were looking for,” he said as he walked to the far end of the grove.

Time rushed by as he became busy searching. He walked by each tree, looking it up and down. Normally a puzzle like this got him anxious. He became eager to solve it as quickly as possible, restless until he was at the bottom of it. Today he found himself whistling as he walked among the trees. It was perfect late-spring weather, not the blistering heat of summer or the chill of winter. Em was easy company. She hadn’t complained once about the long ride or the seemingly impossible task they’d undertaken. She wasn’t someone he’d ever bring home to his parents, but she was nice enough to be around.

When the sun’s position declared it was past noonday, he walked over to her. She had not heard him approach, so he watched her for a moment. A large, leafy oak was before her. With eyes focused, she scanned it from near the base to all the way up its tall trunk. She walked around the tree, even stooping down and running her hand through the dirt by the roots. Standing back, she put her hands on her practically nonexistent hips and sighed.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention to him. “Nothing on that one?”

“No, not a thing.” She stood tall and brushed her hands on the sides of her dress. “I haven’t seen anything unusual all morning. What if I was wrong?”

“Let’s stop for an afternoon meal. Then we’ll tackle the rest of this grove.”

“I’ll just keep looking. You go ahead and eat without me.”

“You are as thin as a rail and now you are going to skip a meal? I won’t have it. Come and eat.” He headed toward the clearing he’d left Amos in. Looking back, he saw she hadn’t followed. “Do I have to come and carry you over?” he shouted.

And then he saw it written on her face. Something about the way she bit her bottom lip and shifted her weight from side to side told him—she hadn’t packed a meal. Of course she hadn’t.

“I packed enough for two. I knew we would get hungry.” He was lying. “Come eat so I have someone other than Amos for company.”

Hesitantly, she made her way to him. They sat side by side on a log. He split what he’d brought and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered and nibbled at the bread in her hand. Midbite, she stood. “We have to find it today. Whatever it is. If we don’t, then they will. Even a poor tracker will know we were looking for something in this grove.” She set her half-eaten bread and cheese down and headed back toward the trees, determination written across her half-starved face. “We have to find it.”

Caleb flew to his feet. “Hold up! I’m not about to let your scrawny little hide back over there until you’ve eaten.”

“I’m fine, really. I want to find what we’re looking for. I want to stop all of this.”

“Don’t even think about it.” He took her wrist in his hand, his fingers encircling it, and pulled gently, hoping his touch didn’t scare her.

A smile worked its way to the corners of her mouth. “All right, I’ll eat. A week ago I couldn’t imagine ever being forced to eat.” She stomped back to the log, sat down next to him, and shoved a few bites of bread and cheese into her mouth. Her manners were anything but ladylike as she took one enormous bite after another. With her mouth full, she started laughing at herself. Once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop.

Crumbs flew through the air, landing unceremoniously on herself and on Caleb. The mess she was making only caused her to laugh more. He could tell she was trying to stop but couldn’t. Making a show of it, he brushed crumbs off his own pant leg. He too started laughing, choking on his own food. There was something fun about spending a day with a girl who didn’t know anything about being a lady.

Caleb handed her a handkerchief and she attempted to clean her face. “See what you did to me, forcing too much in me? It all just came right back out.”

“You’re blaming me for this mess of crumbs?” He moved his gaze to the ground, eyeing the bits of bread.

“Of course I am. If not for you, I would be in the trees discovering whatever it was George was hiding.” She stood, smoothing her skirt like a proper girl should. Then she turned on one heel, dipped a ridiculous curtsy, and marched back to the spot where she’d left off.

He stood up and walked to put the saddlebags back on Amos, laughing under his breath the whole time. When was the last time he had laughed so hard? Years at least. He used to laugh with his brothers, but that was before. Before the war that changed everything. Since then he’d spent all his time focusing on being successful, making his parents proud.

He patted Amos on the back and then headed for the tree where he’d left off searching, but halfway there he changed course and headed toward Em. “Let’s work together,” he said. “We can make sure we don’t overlook anything.”

“Very well. As long as you don’t insist I eat.” Her azure eyes had a new twinkle in them. One he’d not seen when he had first met her.

“Amos is guarding the food. You’re safe. He’s easier to get along with than I am.”

“In that case, I agree to letting you work by me.” Pointing, she said, “I have already looked around all the trees to my left. Let’s try over here.”

Caleb followed her lead as they walked a bit to the right and began their inspections, talking easily as they went. “I had three brothers,” Caleb said. “My oldest brother, Reggie, could climb a tree like this faster than anyone I ever saw. I was the little brother. He was so patient as he taught me important skills like tree climbing. He never made me feel bad when I went too high and didn’t know how to get down. Were there trees to climb in the city?”

“No. I never climbed trees until I lived out here. I figured it out pretty well for having no teacher.”

“Shall we race? Pretend we’re children again? We could make it interesting. Whoever wins can ask the other three questions and they have to answer them honestly.” He felt younger than his twenty-eight years today. Young enough to climb a towering oak.

“Three questions?”

“Yep. And you’ll have to answer. Anyone loses a bet to me, I expect them to honor the terms.” Caleb nudged her. “You brave enough?”

“You won’t go telling Eliza, will you? I think we may become friends yet, but it’s unlikely if she hears I’ve been off climbing trees and spitting my food all over you. Her manners are so refined. I feel like a heathen beside her. I believe she finds me rather shocking.”

Picturing Eliza’s reaction brought a new smile to his face. “Eliza won’t hear a word about it. It’ll be our secret.”

“Which tree?” she asked.

He pointed to a tall oak with branches low enough for her to reach. Taking a step toward it, he was surprised to see the wisp of a girl running full speed for the tree. Her wiry limbs grabbed the lowest branch and she started up. Competition. He liked it. Real competition.

Grabbing a large branch, he heaved his body up. Being taller, he went for higher branches. But she was quick. Up they went, higher than he had been in a tree since he was a boy. He remembered all his brothers up in the trees, laughing and feeling like the kings of the world. The memories were so vivid today, the memories of the fun. Memories of something other than the pain of losing them.

She stopped moving up—the next branch was too far for her to reach. His extra height allowed him to scale higher than she could. From a perch above her, he waved down. “You ought to see the view from up here.”

“I like it fine where I am. This was the branch we were racing to, was it not?” She sounded innocent enough, but he knew he had her beat.

“Funny, Em. Admit defeat. And I’ll admit you climb better than most boys I know.”

“I suppose that is a compliment?”

“Of course it is. It should be every girl’s goal in life to climb better than the boys.”

“Very well. I thank you for your fine compliment and I admit defeat.” She straightened her leg, ready to move back down the branches.

Not wanting the fun to end, he called down to her. “Wait, Em, take in the view first. I’m sure we have time for that.”

She resettled on her perch and gazed across the horizon. “It’s beautiful. The rolling hills go on forever. I lived here so long and yet I never saw it as beautiful. It was a prison then. Today it feels so different.”

It was beautiful, all of it. The sturdy trees, the rolling hills, the sunshine, the laughter.

Slowly, reluctantly, the two made their way back down to the ground. Resting his back against the tree, he caught his breath and tried to decide which question he would ask her first. He had so many.

“There, over there.” Em’s voice sounded from beside him as she raced to a tall stump. Meeting her there, he tried to see what she saw. Before him was a rotting stump much like the others in the grove. He’d guess this tree fell years and years ago. Weather, animals, and time had worn it down. A large crack ran down the side from the top of the stump to the grass at the base. Em slipped her hand into the stump and pulled out a leather bag. “There’s more,” she said as she stuck her hand back in and then pulled out a metal box.

“You found it! This has to be it.” Caleb felt adrenaline pumping through him. “We did it.”

It felt like a grand victory—a splendid finish to a sublime day—having the leather bag and metal box in hand. Before undoing the latch on the leather bag, he looked at Em. This was her victory too. “Perhaps you should be the one to open them,” he said.

“You take it. I need to catch my breath,” Em said, taking a step away. Next to a sturdy tree trunk, she slid to the ground and curled into a ball. Her skin pale, her breath uneven. How could he have challenged her to climb the tree? What a fool he’d been. He was supposed to protect others, not endanger them. A week is all it had been since she had been shot and here he was pushing her in the heat of the day.

He secured the unopened bag and box onto Amos and went for Em. Crouching in front of her, he took her in his arms. “We’ll look inside later. Let’s get you back. It’s been too long a day already.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just have to catch my breath. Don’t worry about me.” She spoke quietly, her brow furrowed and glistening with sweat.

“No, I’m taking you back.” As he carried her in his arms to Amos, sadness overtook him. She weighed nothing. She had nothing. Why had no one looked after her before?

Her head fell against his chest and he pulled her closer. “I’ll make this right for you. You won’t ever have to live like that again. Never. I promise you.” Her body lay limp in his arms. “I’ll keep my word. You won’t live like that again.”

Em’s only response was a soft, pitiful moan.

There was no way or time to be careful. He laid her weak body across Amos, then pulled himself up and did all he could to hold her in such a way as to ease her pain and not add to it. The trip back was not the carefree ride they’d shared in the early hours of dawn. Em slipped in and out of consciousness as they rode. Whenever her body went limp, he kicked Amos harder. Supporting her slight body most of the way home was not hard work, but it was a reminder of how careless he’d been. As the miles passed, his determination grew—she would get well.