Read Online Too Long a Stranger (Women of the West) by Janette Oke - Free Book Online
Authors: Janette Oke
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Historical - General, Western, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), Religious - General, Christian fiction, Religious, Christian, Christianity, General & Literary Fiction, American Historical Fiction, Mothers and daughters, Fiction - Religious, Frontier and Pioneer Life, Religious & spiritual fiction, Christian - Western
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incredulously.
Sarah looked blank.
"Don't you have freight to be delivered?" she asked through stiff lips. She was so cold she no longer shivered.
If I have driven all the way through this storm and there is no freight to haul —she began her mental protest.
" 'Course there's freight. But it coulda waited. Weather out there's not fit fer man nor beast. Coulda made the haul tomorra."
"I'm here now," said Sarah weakly. "Is Hank around?"
"He was hangin' around for part of the mornin'. Think he mighta gone on home now."
Sarah's shoulders slumped. She had freight to load and no lad for the loading.
"I'll give ya a hand this mornin'. Not as much to load up as some days."
Wordlessly he pulled on his heavy mackinaw and then grabbed his fur-lined mitts.
"Never seen such a storm to start the winter," he yelled as the two of them left the warmth of the little building and struggled against the force of the wind.
It was impossible to converse further. The storm took their words—and almost their breath—away on its angry blast. They were both exhausted and breathing heavily by the time the freight was loaded.
At least I've warmed up a bit, Sarah thought as she went to gather the reins.
"Sure you shouldn't be stayin' here till this lessens up?" the man yelled almost in her ear.
"I can't," Sarah shouted back at him. "I have to get the freight out."
"It'll wait," he said loudly. "Nobody will be out lookin' fer it today anyway. Leave the deliveries till tomorrow and stay here till the storm dies down."
"I've got a baby girl waiting for me," Sarah yelled again.
"She'll be taken care of," the man replied.
Yes. Rebecca would be quite safe with Mrs. Galvan. Still, Sarah's mother-heart felt compelled to get back home. She gave the man one last look, hoping that he would understand her stubbornness, then gathered the reins and climbed aboard.
The trip home was even worse than she would have dared to think. She could not see the team in front of her through the driving snow. Perhaps the man had been right. The storm seemed to have worsened. She should have stayed where she was safe until the height of the fury had passed. Now she was halfway between nothing and nowhere. There were not even any shacks in which to take shelter as far as she knew.
At length she wrapped the reins around the rein pole, letting the team forge ahead on their own, curled up in a ball in the bottom of the wagon, her feet tucked firmly beneath her, and bundled herself as securely as she could in the heavy robes.
It seemed that the trip would never end. At times Sarah felt as if she had lost all control of her senses. She knew she had lost track of time. Sometimes she even wondered if they were still moving, but then another jolt of the wagon would assure her that the team was steadily plodding on.
"I wonder where we're going?" she whispered to herself through frozen lips. "Where will we end up when this is over? If it ever ends. Oh, God, please— please—if I don't make it—take care of Rebecca. Take care of my little girl."
Sarah dozed off, then awoke with a start and stirred slightly. Her whole body felt numb. "I must stay awake. I must try to move," she told herself. But she was beyond moving.
Suddenly she realized that the team was no longer trudging through the storm. The wagon was no longer rumbling its way over the rutted road. They had come to a standstill.
"Thank God you're home," a familiar voice spoke through the still-whirling snow. It was Boyd.
"I am? I am home?"
Sarah could not believe it. She turned her head to look about her. The team of bays had stopped in front of their own barn door.
For reasons Sarah could not have explained, she buried her head on the heavy rug and wept.
***
Boyd took the wagon for the rest of the week. Sarah was not prepared to argue. Mrs. Galvan sided with her son and insisted that Sarah stay put until she fully recuperated from the ordeal. There was concern about frostbite, but after some miserable,
Sarah looked blank.
"Don't you have freight to be delivered?" she asked through stiff lips. She was so cold she no longer shivered.
If I have driven all the way through this storm and there is no freight to haul —she began her mental protest.
" 'Course there's freight. But it coulda waited. Weather out there's not fit fer man nor beast. Coulda made the haul tomorra."
"I'm here now," said Sarah weakly. "Is Hank around?"
"He was hangin' around for part of the mornin'. Think he mighta gone on home now."
Sarah's shoulders slumped. She had freight to load and no lad for the loading.
"I'll give ya a hand this mornin'. Not as much to load up as some days."
Wordlessly he pulled on his heavy mackinaw and then grabbed his fur-lined mitts.
"Never seen such a storm to start the winter," he yelled as the two of them left the warmth of the little building and struggled against the force of the wind.
It was impossible to converse further. The storm took their words—and almost their breath—away on its angry blast. They were both exhausted and breathing heavily by the time the freight was loaded.
At least I've warmed up a bit, Sarah thought as she went to gather the reins.
"Sure you shouldn't be stayin' here till this lessens up?" the man yelled almost in her ear.
"I can't," Sarah shouted back at him. "I have to get the freight out."
"It'll wait," he said loudly. "Nobody will be out lookin' fer it today anyway. Leave the deliveries till tomorrow and stay here till the storm dies down."
"I've got a baby girl waiting for me," Sarah yelled again.
"She'll be taken care of," the man replied.
Yes. Rebecca would be quite safe with Mrs. Galvan. Still, Sarah's mother-heart felt compelled to get back home. She gave the man one last look, hoping that he would understand her stubbornness, then gathered the reins and climbed aboard.
The trip home was even worse than she would have dared to think. She could not see the team in front of her through the driving snow. Perhaps the man had been right. The storm seemed to have worsened. She should have stayed where she was safe until the height of the fury had passed. Now she was halfway between nothing and nowhere. There were not even any shacks in which to take shelter as far as she knew.
At length she wrapped the reins around the rein pole, letting the team forge ahead on their own, curled up in a ball in the bottom of the wagon, her feet tucked firmly beneath her, and bundled herself as securely as she could in the heavy robes.
It seemed that the trip would never end. At times Sarah felt as if she had lost all control of her senses. She knew she had lost track of time. Sometimes she even wondered if they were still moving, but then another jolt of the wagon would assure her that the team was steadily plodding on.
"I wonder where we're going?" she whispered to herself through frozen lips. "Where will we end up when this is over? If it ever ends. Oh, God, please— please—if I don't make it—take care of Rebecca. Take care of my little girl."
Sarah dozed off, then awoke with a start and stirred slightly. Her whole body felt numb. "I must stay awake. I must try to move," she told herself. But she was beyond moving.
Suddenly she realized that the team was no longer trudging through the storm. The wagon was no longer rumbling its way over the rutted road. They had come to a standstill.
"Thank God you're home," a familiar voice spoke through the still-whirling snow. It was Boyd.
"I am? I am home?"
Sarah could not believe it. She turned her head to look about her. The team of bays had stopped in front of their own barn door.
For reasons Sarah could not have explained, she buried her head on the heavy rug and wept.
***
Boyd took the wagon for the rest of the week. Sarah was not prepared to argue. Mrs. Galvan sided with her son and insisted that Sarah stay put until she fully recuperated from the ordeal. There was concern about frostbite, but after some miserable,
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