Read Online Love's Long Journey (Love Comes Softly Series #3) by Janette Oke - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Janette Oke
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I can find for a warm stone fer yer feet." He bundled Missie up, right to the chin and reached for his coat.
59
"Don't go back out in the rain--please, Willie. My feet aren't that cold. They'll be warm in no time. I'll just slip on a pair of your woolen socks." And Missie did so immediately so that Willie could see that she meant what she said.
It was too early to go to sleep, Missie knew. She also knew that it was unwise to protest being tucked in, so she snuggled under the blanket and gradually the chill began to leave her bones. She even began to feel drowsy.
Willie finished his journal entries and picked up a leather- covered edition of Pilgrim's Progress which had been a wedding gift from Missie's school children. Missie murmured, "Iffen you don't mind, would you read aloud?"
Willie read and the long evening somehow passed by.
The rain continued to fall, splattering against the canvas of the wagon. Before laying himself down to sleep, Willie checked carefully all around the inside of their small dwelling to make sure that there were no leaks. He then crawled in beside Missie and pulled the warm covers close about himself. In a very few minutes Missie knew by his breathing that he slept. She wished that she could fall asleep as easily, but she instead lay and listened to the rain. Again her thoughts turned to home.
She used to love to listen to the rain pattering on the window as she snuggled down beneath the warm quilt her mama had made. The rain had always seemed friendly then, but somehow tonight it did not seem to be a friend at all. She shivered and moved closer to Willie. She was thankful for his nearness and his warmth.
60
Chapter 9
Delays
When Missie awakened the next morning, the rain was still falling. Puddles of water lay everywhere. Shrubbery and wagons dripped steady little streams in the soggy morning air. Willie arrived just as Missie was about to crawl down from the wagon; she was wondering what in the world she would ever do about a fire. Ordering her to stay where she was, he managed to get a fire going and make some coffee and pancakes. He served Missie in the covered wagon, ignoring her protests.
"No use us both gittin' wet," he reasoned. "'Sides Mr. Blake hasn't decided yet whether we move on or jest sit tight."
But Mr. Blake was concerned about reaching the Big River before the waters were swollen with the rain. So in spite of the mud, he ordered them to go on as usual.
Willie was already wet as he climbed up onto the wagon seat and urged the balking horses out.
It was tough going. The wagons slipped and twisted through the mire. Wheels clogged up and had to be freed from their burdens of mud. Teams and drivers were worn out in two hours'
61
time. When one poor horse finally fell and needed a great deal of assistance regaining his footing, an order was called to halt. It was useless to try to travel under such conditions.
Missie didn't know whether to feel relief or dismay when the wagon creaked to a stop. The rain had slackened somewhat, so she wrapped her heavy, woolen shawl closely about her and went in the inevitable search for firewood. But when Willie returned sometime later, Missie still had not succeeded in getting a fire going. She was close to tears and felt like a complete failure. The wood just would not burn. Willie took charge, chasing Missie into the wagon to change her wet clothes; he dared to beg some hot water from Mrs. Schmidt whose fire was burning cheerily, seeming to stick its tongue out at the whole camp. Mrs. Schmidt was pleased to share her hot water--though a bit smug. Missie made tea in the confines of the wagon and she, Willie and Henry enjoyed the hot refreshment with their cold biscuits.
Still the rain continued. Missie knitted while Willie mended a piece of harness. When that was done, he pulled out his journal; but this source of activity was soon exhausted as well. He picked up the John Bunyan volume again and attempted to read, but eventually his
59
"Don't go back out in the rain--please, Willie. My feet aren't that cold. They'll be warm in no time. I'll just slip on a pair of your woolen socks." And Missie did so immediately so that Willie could see that she meant what she said.
It was too early to go to sleep, Missie knew. She also knew that it was unwise to protest being tucked in, so she snuggled under the blanket and gradually the chill began to leave her bones. She even began to feel drowsy.
Willie finished his journal entries and picked up a leather- covered edition of Pilgrim's Progress which had been a wedding gift from Missie's school children. Missie murmured, "Iffen you don't mind, would you read aloud?"
Willie read and the long evening somehow passed by.
The rain continued to fall, splattering against the canvas of the wagon. Before laying himself down to sleep, Willie checked carefully all around the inside of their small dwelling to make sure that there were no leaks. He then crawled in beside Missie and pulled the warm covers close about himself. In a very few minutes Missie knew by his breathing that he slept. She wished that she could fall asleep as easily, but she instead lay and listened to the rain. Again her thoughts turned to home.
She used to love to listen to the rain pattering on the window as she snuggled down beneath the warm quilt her mama had made. The rain had always seemed friendly then, but somehow tonight it did not seem to be a friend at all. She shivered and moved closer to Willie. She was thankful for his nearness and his warmth.
60
Chapter 9
Delays
When Missie awakened the next morning, the rain was still falling. Puddles of water lay everywhere. Shrubbery and wagons dripped steady little streams in the soggy morning air. Willie arrived just as Missie was about to crawl down from the wagon; she was wondering what in the world she would ever do about a fire. Ordering her to stay where she was, he managed to get a fire going and make some coffee and pancakes. He served Missie in the covered wagon, ignoring her protests.
"No use us both gittin' wet," he reasoned. "'Sides Mr. Blake hasn't decided yet whether we move on or jest sit tight."
But Mr. Blake was concerned about reaching the Big River before the waters were swollen with the rain. So in spite of the mud, he ordered them to go on as usual.
Willie was already wet as he climbed up onto the wagon seat and urged the balking horses out.
It was tough going. The wagons slipped and twisted through the mire. Wheels clogged up and had to be freed from their burdens of mud. Teams and drivers were worn out in two hours'
61
time. When one poor horse finally fell and needed a great deal of assistance regaining his footing, an order was called to halt. It was useless to try to travel under such conditions.
Missie didn't know whether to feel relief or dismay when the wagon creaked to a stop. The rain had slackened somewhat, so she wrapped her heavy, woolen shawl closely about her and went in the inevitable search for firewood. But when Willie returned sometime later, Missie still had not succeeded in getting a fire going. She was close to tears and felt like a complete failure. The wood just would not burn. Willie took charge, chasing Missie into the wagon to change her wet clothes; he dared to beg some hot water from Mrs. Schmidt whose fire was burning cheerily, seeming to stick its tongue out at the whole camp. Mrs. Schmidt was pleased to share her hot water--though a bit smug. Missie made tea in the confines of the wagon and she, Willie and Henry enjoyed the hot refreshment with their cold biscuits.
Still the rain continued. Missie knitted while Willie mended a piece of harness. When that was done, he pulled out his journal; but this source of activity was soon exhausted as well. He picked up the John Bunyan volume again and attempted to read, but eventually his
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