“Where’s the luggage?” he asked.
Louise directed him to the two trunks—hers and Missy’s, and he hoisted one to his shoulder and trotted to the wagon. She and Missy carried their smaller bags. In minutes, he had both aboard and stood at the door. “Are you ready?”
Louise and Missy pulled on their warmest outer clothing. Aunt Bea pressed a gray woolen blanket into each of their arms.
“Stay safe. Let me know when you arrive.” She hugged Louise.
Tears stung Louise’s eyes. Aunt Bea had only twice before hugged her. Once when she told her about her mother and the other time when Gordie was killed.
“I’ll send a letter,” she promised Aunt Bea, then let Nate lead her to the wagon and help her aboard. He had to practically lift her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m such a size right now.”
“For better or worse,” Aunt Bea reminded them.
Louise met Nate’s gaze, as full of secret and regret as hers. He acknowledged the moment with a little nod of his head and a barely there smile before he turned to assist Missy.
They rattled down the street to the depot. He helped them alight and, with his arm around Louise’s shoulders, led them inside where it was marginally warmer than outside. It would be warmer if the door was closed, but the ticket man had it propped open.
She sat on the narrow wooden bench and Nate unfolded the blanket Aunt Bea had provided and draped it over her lap. A person could get used to being taken care of. She buried the thought. Best not get used to it. This was temporary. She must stand on her own for her sake, as well as that of her unborn child.
“Wait here,” he said. “While I take care of the wagon.” He rushed out. Seemed he was as impatient to start this journey as Missy, who wriggled on the bench beside her. Louise tried to decide what she felt. Certainly not the excitement Missy showed. Truth was, she was worried. Not so much about Vic anymore, though she’d never quite believe he was out of her life. But the baby had been more active lately. Please, God, don’t let it be born before we reach Eden Valley Ranch. Let it be a Christmas baby. But would God even hear her? Or listen if He did? So many times in the past she had felt abandoned by God, though she did her best to believe He loved her, as the Porters had so fervently taught her.
If the baby came on the trip, it would slow them down, and Nate had made it clear he wouldn’t let them hinder him from getting back to Edendale in time to see a man about buying a ranch. She drove steel into her spine. If he left them somewhere, she would simply continue the journey at her own speed.
What if the stagecoach left them, too?
She would not contemplate all the things that could go wrong.
A shadow crossed the floor. She looked up and there stood Vic leaning against the door frame.
“Going someplace?” He drawled the words.
“Away from here.” Louise’s reply carried a full dose of her dislike for the man. Away from you.
“Hear you and Nate got hitched. You figger you can tie that cowboy down, do ya?”
She figured no such thing. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”
The man behind the ticket wicket watched them. The room was small enough he could hear every word. She didn’t care. She and Nate were legally married. That’s all anyone had to know.
Vic strode over and sat beside Missy.
Louise moved down the bench so Missy could put space between herself and Vic. He simply moved down until Louise balanced on the end.
The ticket man cleared his throat.
Vic ignored the subtle warning. “Missy, you don’t have to go with Louise.”
“I’m going because I want to.”
Louise had to give the girl credit. She never let on how much Vic frightened her.
“You sure? Hear it’s real primitive up there. No decent town for miles. Mostly Indians and buffalo roaming about. You might get tired of nobody who can show you a good time.” He pushed closer to Missy.
Louise pushed back to keep from being bumped to the floor.
The ticket man cleared his throat most loudly. “Ladies, is this man bothering you?”
As if that wasn’t obvious. But Vic had a reputation throughout the town, and Louise didn’t blame the ticket man for being cautious.