
The Wedding Promise
Autor:in
Carolyn Davidson
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Prologue
âThereâs no way on Godâs green earth you youngâuns can travel by yourselves.â As if he pronounced the fate of the three people facing him, the weathered wagon master issued his ultimatum. âIf your pa had listened when he should have, youâd have two good oxen pullinâ your wagon instead of those horses. Youâd have stood a chance, maybe.â
The big man took off his hat and shaped it with a fist, his gaze avoiding the eyes of the young woman in front of him. âI asked around, Rachel. Thereâs plenty of churchgoinâ people in Green Rapids thatâll be glad to give homes to all of you.â
Rachel Sinclairâs arms stretched like the wings of a mother hen to encompass the narrow shoulders of her small brothers. âI can tend to my family,â she muttered stubbornly. âI donât need the charity of a bunch of church folk.â
âYouâre nothinâ but a child yourself, girl.â With a rush of exasperation, Mr. Clemons denied her claim. His brow furrowed as he scanned the waiting wagons behind her. âYouâre a good girl, Rachel. Youâve held things together for your brothers real well, but the truth is, these men are in a hurry. Theyâre haulinâ freight, and besides that, I canât expect the rest of the people in the group to look out for you when things go sour. Weâre goinâ to leave you here with the sheriff and thatâs that!â
Rachelâs slender fingers tightened their grip, as if she must imbue her brothers with a trace of her determination. âGo on then,â she told the man in front of her. âWeâll be just fine.â
A look of sheer relief brought an easing of Tom Clemonsâs frown. âSheriffâs on his way. Yâall just stay put here and heâll make some arrangements for you. I already talked to him.â His gait was hurried as he made his way past the three young people, none of whom turned to watch his departure.
âIs he really leavinâ us here, Rae?â Barely a whisper, the voice reached her ear and Rachel bent momentarily to brush a quick kiss across her brotherâs dark hair.
âWe donât need him, Jay,â she murmured.
âWhat are we gonna do, Rae?â came the query from her other side.
He reached her shoulder, this ten-year-old who looked so much like his daddy that it made her heart hurt to look at him. Her smile was sweet as she met his worried gaze.
âWeâre going to climb back into our wagon and head out before the sheriff gets his hands on us, Henry.â As a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, it had as much merit as any other notions sheâd come up with in the past day or so. Rachel Sinclair was plumb out of ideas. But standing in the middle of the dusty street, halfway between the hotel and a general store, she had reached a conclusion.
âThereâs enough food in the wagon to keep us for a while. Weâve got a barrel of water and two good horses to pull the wagon. Itâll be a cold day in you-know-where when we canât figure out some way to keep body and soul together without a bunch of busybodies pokinâ into our business. Just hike yourselves into the wagon, boys.â
Her dark hair swung in a long braid down her back and slim legs were briefly exposed as Rachel Sinclair scrambled atop the high seat. Her brothers joined her in seconds, even as a rangy lawman sauntered from his office to head in their direction.
His hand lifted in a silent gesture and his mouth opened, only to snap shut as the trio huddling on the wide seat ignored his beckoning fingers. Shaking his head in puzzled resignation, he watched them go, until they were just a speck on the horizon.
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