Emma stopped near her wagon as Abigail and Elizabeth strolled away and continued to speak. “I really wish Emma wasn’t so stubborn,” Abigail said. “These kinds of marriages take place all the time. She needs the help, and her resistance is going to bring her harm, I’m afraid.”
“What I don’t understand,” Elizabeth added, “is why Ezra is allowing her to go it alone. I thought no female without a family member was allowed?”
“You’re right, but Jeb told me the reason Ezra is allowing this is to impress on Emma that she needs a man. Besides, he can’t just put her off in the middle of nowhere, anyway. She’ll come around, it won’t be long. She’s looking mighty tired.”
Emma stood still, absorbing the women’s words. So this was Ezra’s way of bringing her around. She waited for the anger to rise at his machinations. The only feelings she could conjure up were worries about tomorrow, and an overwhelming sense of fatigue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A shrill whistle woke Emma. As she remembered today’s river crossing, a wave of fear washed over her. She crawled out from under the wagon into total darkness. Her stomach churning, she splashed water on her face, and attempted to convince herself she could do this. The wax paste she’d mixed up the night before lay alongside the wagon. With shaky hands, she smeared it on the cracks in the sides to help make it watertight.
Emma glanced up from her work to see Davis making his way along the row of wagons, offering encouragement, and checking that each wagon was ready for the crossing.
“You gonna be all right?” After checking her wagon, he stood over her, his broad shoulders blocking the barely visible sun from her face.
“I think so.” She was appalled at how close the tears were.
He reached out and cupped her chin, then shook his head and walked away.
She touched her face where his hand had been. Warm and strong, just like the rest of him. Emma continued to view Davis as he stopped and spoke with each family. Brown curly hair hung over his collar. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, leaving his muscular forearms, dusted with fine hairs, exposed. The sound of his laughter echoed over the area as he slapped one of the travelers on the back, and continued on.
Emma returned her attention to her wagon, her stomach clenching once more at what she faced. Alone.
The sun was still low in the sky when the first wagon crossed the river. The animals swam over and the wagon floated, just as Ezra said. Emma’s wagon would be the eighth wagon to cross. She hadn’t been able to choke down any breakfast due to her anxiety.
She stretched up on her toes, searching for Davis. She spotted him on the other side of the river, helping the wagons and animals out of the water. Taking a shuddering breath, she relaxed a bit after seeing him, hating that the sight of the man calmed her.
Around nine o’clock, Emma’s turn came. Scouts on her side of the river grabbed the oxen and steered them into the water. Perched high on the wagon seat, Emma slowly eased the wagon into the river. It did seem to float, but the water moved much faster than she thought it would. Panic set in when her wagon seemed to tilt to one side. She slid over to balance the weight, but it righted itself at the same time, and sent Emma tumbling off the seat into the water.
Water engulfed her, and the old terror of being underwater rushed back as she floundered, trying to grasp onto the wagon wheel. She slid underneath the vehicle, the rushing water forcing her away from it. Her heavy skirts dragged her down, and she tumbled along, scraping her limbs on rocks. In her fear, she didn’t know which way was up. Each time she surfaced, she gulped for air, and took in water at the same time.
Within minutes strong arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her up. Breaking the surface once more, she sucked in air, and frantically tried to grab onto the solid strength that held her. Davis flipped her onto her back, then with one arm wrapped tightly under her breasts, dragged her toward the shore.
A crowd had gathered, watching anxiously as Davis pulled Emma out of the water. Two men had gone into the river, directing her wagon to shore. Davis tugged Emma to the bank and collapsed alongside her, gasping.
Emma rolled to the side and vomited. When there was nothing left to bring up, Elizabeth handed her a cloth that she used to wipe her mouth.
“All right, folks, let’s break it up and get the rest of these wagons across.” Ezra shouted and waved everyone away. “You all right, little lady?” He leaned over her.
Emma kept her eyes shut and nodded, tears running down her face. She continued to drag in lungsful of air. She coughe
d and gagged, but didn’t throw up again. With a shaky hand, she pushed stringy wet hair off her face, and glanced at Davis sitting alongside her, watching her carefully.
She covered her mouth with her hand, and shuddered, the fear of the river gripping her once again. Davis pulled her into his arms, and she sobbed and trembled, grasping his solid form with stiff fingers. He rubbed circles on her back, both of them dripping water onto each other and the ground around them. Sounds of men shouting, and animals braying filled the air as they sat there, clinging to each other.
“Darlin’ you gave me a scare that time.” Davis spoke softly into her hair.
Her sobs had turned to soft hiccups, but she remained in the same position, resting her cheek against Davis’s hard chest. “All right.” She whispered.
“What?” Davis asked, leaning back to peer into her eyes.
“I said ‘all right.’” Emma cleared her throat, speaking a little louder.
“Are you telling me you’re all right?” Davis questioned.
“No. Well, yes, I am all right, but what I’m saying is… I’ll consent to marry you. I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.” She twisted her fingers. “I was never so scared in my life as when the river water swirled over my head.” She hugged herself, and stared beyond his shoulder. “I almost drowned as a child and it brought back all the horror of that day.”
Davis took her chin in his hand, and turned her face so their eyes met. The look in his eyes was not an I told you so look, but one of compassion, and something else she couldn’t identify.