A Journey for Annabelle: The Reluctant Wagon Train Bride - Book 7 by F. Tilly Brownne

Author:F. Tilly Brownne [Brownne, F. Tilly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Connections Press
Published: 2023-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

For not starting out until almost midday, Annabelle felt like they put a lot of miles behind them. As the sun dipped close to the western horizon, Oren Philby sent a rider back to spread the message. They were approaching a meadow. She guessed he usually camped the train here for the first night since fire pits dotted the meadow. The rider passed the message: “Pull over and park. Get some food and get some rest. We’ll be pulling out at first light.”

Annabelle had turned to check on Gordon many times during the afternoon. He slept most of the time. When a bump in the trail or a noise outside woke him, he would turn and look up at her. His color looked good, and for that, she whispered a grateful prayer to the Lord.

Who had done this to him? She hadn’t seen anything in him that appeared aggressive or like he would start a fight. On the contrary, she had seen gentleness in his eyes and felt it in his touch.

Sure, she’d only just met him and didn’t know a lick about him. But her inner senses didn’t bring anything to mind that would cause her to think he was a danger—not to anyone, let alone her.

She could be wrong. If he were evil or a con man, he could be skilled at deceiving people. But she had not detected anything like that in him.

Still, she kept her guard up until she knew him better and got a better sense of him.

But that bump on the head. That could alter a person, too. It needed tending to.

For all her learning on the farm, she couldn’t remember her Papa teaching her anything about lumps on the head. He probably would have made a compress for it. She might be able to come up with a bit of medicine from the natural plants along the way, but rolling down a trail in a wagon, she couldn’t think of a way to make one. Maybe when they stopped. If she had the time.

Now that they were stopping, exhaustion overwhelmed her. How could sitting on a buckboard all afternoon wear a person out so? Well, she needed to get them something to eat. After that, maybe she could come up with something to help him. Or find a medical man on the wagon train. Or someone who knew more than she did.

She reined the team to a stop behind the Langhorne wagon.

She looked back at him. The ceasing of movement had awakened him. He attempted to sit up. “Where are we?”

His voice was raspy. The man needed water. “We’re at some meadow where Mr. Philby usually stops on the first night on the trail. Stay right there. I’ll get you some water.”

She fetched him a cup of water and crawled into the back of the wagon to help him sit up and drink it. “I’ll leave the back open so you can see out.”

“I need to get out for a bit. We need to shackle the horses so they can graze and drink.

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