The Wedding Promise
highlight_author
Carolyn Davidson
highlight_reads
19,0K
highlight_chapters
19
Prologue
“There’s no way on God’s green earth you young’uns can travel by yourselves.” As if he pronounced the fate of the three people facing him, the weathered wagon master issued his ultimatum. “If your pa had listened when he should have, you’d have two good oxen pullin’ your wagon instead of those horses. You’d have stood a chance, maybe.”
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. “I asked around, Rachel. There’s plenty of churchgoin’ people in Green Rapids that’ll be glad to give homes to all of you.”
Rachel Sinclair’s arms stretched like the wings of a mother hen to encompass the narrow shoulders of her small brothers. “I can tend to my family,” she muttered stubbornly. “I don’t need the charity of a bunch of church folk.”
“You’re nothin’ but a child yourself, girl.” With a rush of exasperation, Mr. Clemons denied her claim. His brow furrowed as he scanned the waiting wagons behind her. “You’re a good girl, Rachel. You’ve held things together for your brothers real well, but the truth is, these men are in a hurry. They’re haulin’ freight, and besides that, I can’t expect the rest of the people in the group to look out for you when things go sour. We’re goin’ to leave you here with the sheriff and that’s that!”
Rachel’s slender fingers tightened their grip, as if she must imbue her brothers with a trace of her determination. “Go on then,” she told the man in front of her. “We’ll be just fine.”
A look of sheer relief brought an easing of Tom Clemons’s frown. “Sheriff’s on his way. Y’all just stay put here and he’ll make some arrangements for you. I already talked to him.” His gait was hurried as he made his way past the three young people, none of whom turned to watch his departure.
“Is he really leavin’ us here, Rae?” Barely a whisper, the voice reached her ear and Rachel bent momentarily to brush a quick kiss across her brother’s dark hair.
“We don’t need him, Jay,” she murmured.
“What are we gonna do, Rae?” 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.
“We’re going to climb back into our wagon and head out before the sheriff gets his hands on us, Henry.” As a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, it had as much merit as any other notions she’d 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.
“There’s enough food in the wagon to keep us for a while. We’ve got a barrel of water and two good horses to pull the wagon. It’ll be a cold day in you-know-where when we can’t figure out some way to keep body and soul together without a bunch of busybodies pokin’ into our business. Just hike yourselves into the wagon, boys.”
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.
