Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(12)



The crewman stoking the firebox was, fortunately, unaware of Marty's thoughts. Had he known of them, he would have been glad for an opportunity to show her whose muscle and hard work made possible the forward speed of the train.

Marty finally took her eyes from the passing countryside long enough to look at Clark. She was interested in his reaction to this new experience. To her amazement, she found that Clark had settled himself comfortably and, with head leaning back against the makeshift package of their lunch bundle, he slept soundly as though sleep was the full purpose of a train ride.

"Well, I never," mumbled Marty under her breath and then smiled. She should be sleeping, too. The past few days had been most trying, and the sleep that she had gotten in the last few nights was limited indeed. Clark was wise. He too was tired. He needed the rest. She'd try as well. But, in spite of her resolve, she could not as yet get her body to relax. She'd just watch the scenery for a while. Maybe she could sleep later.

Marty must have slept, for she aroused at the sound of a crying baby. It took her a few moments to get her bearings, and then excitement again filled her as she recalled that they were on the way to Missie.

The baby continued to cry. Marty opened her eyes and turned toward Clark, when she remembered that he had been sleeping, too. She didn't want to disturb him if he hadn't wakened yet. But when she looked, he was not there. For a moment, she was unnerved. Where could one disappear to on a moving train? Remembering the "lost-watch" scare of the morning, she told herself that Clark would not be far away and not to get in a dither.

The coach was even more blue with smoke than it had been when she had dropped off to sleep. It was hot and stuffy, too,



47



and Marty longed for some fresh, pure air. She gazed about her at the crowded coach. The poker game was still going on at the far end of the car. The redhead had removed her brilliant hat, and she no longer sat alone. A distinguished gentleman in a fancy suit and frilly shirt was sitting with her. They laughed a lot as they talked.

The crying baby was in the seat across the aisle. The poor mother already looked tired out. She had two other little ones as well. The man who accompanied her growled to her to "hush the kid 'fore we git throwed off the train," and the woman tried even harder. The baby was not to be placated. The man got up and, muttering to himself, left angrily. This started another one of the children crying, and the young mother really had her hands full. Marty moved to leave her seat and go to the woman's aid, but a matronly looking woman arrived first.

"Can I help you some?" she asked, and, without waiting for a reply, she took the crying baby. "You care for your son, and I'll try to get the baby to sleep."

Marty's heart went out to the young mother, and she said a quick prayer of thanks for the kind, motherly soul who was helping.

The baby soon was sleeping. Marty wondered if perhaps the young mother had bundled her too tightly and the poor little infant was nearly smothering in the discomfort of the sun-heated coach.

Marty laid aside her own hat and tried to fan her flushed face. What I wouldn't give to be able to go fer a walk, she thought. Sure would feel good to have a little wind on one's face.

Clark returned. Marty's relief showed in her eyes. "Feelin' a little better?" Clark asked.

"I did sleep some, an' it sure didn't do me no harm. Would be nice to cool off a mite. This here coach is so stuffy an' so filled with cigar smoke, I feel like I was a-travelin' in a saloon 'stead of a--"

"Now what you be knowin"bout a saloon?"

"I don't, it's jest--" But Clark was laughing at her.



48



"Where ya been?" asked Marty to change the conversation.

"Jest stretchin' my legs some. Ain't much of a place to walk, thet's fer sure. Jest back an' forth, back an' forth. S'pose it helped a little."

"What I wouldn't give fer a walk 'bout now," said Marty. "Ya want fer me to ask 'em to stop the train an' let ya off fer a spell?"

"Clark . . ."

Clark stopped his teasing.

"What time is it, anyway?" asked Marty.

Clark pulled out his pocket watch.

"Well, it's almost noon. Quarter of twelve, in fact."

Marty sighed heavily. "Thought thet it would be at least late afternoon," she said. "Seems like we been travelin' fer half of forever already."

Clark smiled.

"How many days did ya say we'd be on the train?" "Reckon they didn't say fer sure. They was rather offhand about arrivin' time. Said thet the trip usually took 'bout a week--dependin' on the weather, the track, an' such."

"A week! I'm a-thinkin' thet we'll have us enough of this

train by the time thet week is over."

"Well, now, I didn't say this train, exactly. This train we leave in three days' time. We transfer to another one. This one is usually on time to where it's a-goin'. It's the one further on thet's some changeable."

"I didn't know thet we would be usin' another train. What'll it be like?"

"I'm not rightly sure. Only thing I know, it seems a bit unpredictable. But it won't be so bad. By the time we board her, we'll already be in the West an' almost there."

Janette Oke's Books