"Return to Paradise Trail" PART THREE
I decided to begin writing a journal today. I don't really know why. My life isn't anything to get excited about. Yet perhaps I'll have some interesting stories to tell over the next few months. Why? Because I've reluctantly decided to join a wagon train heading west for Utah. I didn't come by the decision easily. It took some convincing over the past few days on Sheriff's Andrews part and another man I have met. His name is Sam Brazos, and he is the master of the wagon train I will be joining. I've been told I'll meet the group's leader later today. He is a Mormon. I don't know much about those folks. But if this wagon train means a bit of a better life for me, then I suppose it's the Lord's will.
Charlotte shut her eyes tightly and sighed before standing out of the rocker in her room and clasping the buckle around her new leather-bound journal while she crossed the short distance to her bed, tucking the fresh, treasured item onto the top of her carpetbag. The pages of the book still smelled strongly. Their thin canvases stayed blank and silently told of adventures yet to be written upon them. But as far as Charlotte could see, those pages were far from being filled with anything worth knowing. It had been the last of those that Mr. Wooster had special ordered almost one month ago. They had arrived just one day before…before the untimely incident. On the same morning, they had sold all but one. Charlotte had chosen to purchase the final one herself, hating to see such a beautiful thing get lost in the mayhem of the store changing hands.
Charlotte wandered out of town a short while later, putting one foot in front of the other as she traversed the busy, dusty streets of the town she had called home for nearly twenty-two years. She hardly knew the time. It had to be well-nigh noon by the way she felt the sun's warm rays beating against her bare neck just above the neckline of her ruby-red cloak. She had almost reached the far edge of town when she raised her gaze to notice a pleasant-looking woman smiling her way as she rose from being bent over a crate of books. She stood erect, holding a primer in one hand while shielding the sunlight from her eyes with the other hand. The hide flap of the Conestoga directly behind her gently whipped at the side bodice of her calico dress as a few ladies crossed in front of her, heading towards the longer line and cluster of wagons further away. A few children pranced and played a futile game of peekaboo with the lone woman from behind the nearby covered wagon as she stayed intrigued with the oncoming visitor.
Charlotte gripped her carpetbag in both hands in front of her as she came to a stop. Reluctance played on her emotions as she glanced forward at the large circle of wagons dotting the landscape before her.
"You must be Charlotte." The woman before her grinned some more and stepped from around the crates to extend her hand. "My name is Molly Mason. Mr. Brazos told me you'd be coming so I promised him I'd look out for you just in case."
With a brief nod and handshake, Charlotte took a deep breath, wondering silently how Sam Brazos could have been so bold to already draw conclusions as to what her final decision would be. "Yes. I'm Charlotte Wilson." She tried her best to shove aside her thoughts with a smile, glancing over the camp. "This is quite a spread here."
Molly laughed ever so lightly. "It is." Turning back to Charlotte, the kind young woman reached a hand to clasp over Charlotte's. She searched for her eyes as her smile diminished into a straight line. "Mr. Brazos also told us what happened. I want you know that you are very welcome here, Charlotte. What you went through isn't easy. But we will do everything within our power to make the journey a bit easier."
Charlotte narrowed her lips into a single line of a smile as she nodded limply, keeping her comments to herself. She tucked away a few more futile thoughts about Sam Brazos to the back of her mind, still stewing inside over his lack of concealment regarding her personal affairs.
Molly smiled again, turning back to her crate of books. "I've got some more supplies to load for the journey. Do rest by the campfire over there if you'd like. I will be putting on some lunch soon for husband John and my son Tommy. You are more than welcome to join us." She cast a hope-filled glance to a still silent Charlotte.
Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat and forced some words from throat. "I—It would be my pleasure to join you all."
"Great!" Molly was gone around the corner of the wagon a quick second later, hauling a crate to a neighbor's wagon nearby and leaving Charlotte to her still shaken thoughts.
Half an hour passed before Charlotte returned to the same wagon she had met Molly at shortly before. She had taken it upon herself to explore the camp and settle in, even if she still felt as if she didn't fit in quite yet. Already she had met a few friendly faces that welcomed her into the little community. It was a nice start. But much sorrow and doubt still weighed heavy upon the girl's heart.
Charlotte took one look at Sam Brazos from across the Masons' campfire and quickly jerked away, slightly resituating herself on the large crate that sufficed as a chair during their lunch. She pushed her food back and forth on the tin plate before her with the prongs of her fork, not really feeling like eating very much.
Molly sat nearby to her side and caught a glimpse of the young woman from the corner of her eye before silently communicating with her husband John with a lock of their eyes together. She wanted to speak up but held her tongue.
Meanwhile, Sam was hard set to find Charlotte's eyes as if it was some futile effort to apologize for an action he never knew he had committed. His eyes were narrowed beneath the brim of his hat. His forehead was creased. His lips were fastened in a rigid line all the while in an attempt to not show a speck of emotion.
It was a few more silent seconds of quiet torture between the four adults before Brazos' thoughts finally drove him to his feet. The campfire hissed a bit as he tossed the last little bit of the liquid he had left on the ground nearby, the drops bouncing into the flames by mere inches. He cleared his throat. "I'll be checking over the wagons again if you need me, Mason."
John Mason finished his sip of coffee before nodding. "Alright. I'll join you in a moment."
Brazos nodded curtly and forced himself to carry on with his duties despite the fact he felt as if he were speaking out of turn. But he had to move on. The coldness he felt from the woman he thought he was helping was almost too much for a tough man like him. Could she really be resenting him for giving her a chance at a good life out west?
Molly nodded to her husband. "John, can you check on Tommy?"
"He said he was going to have lunch with Lizzie and her family."
Molly glared at him with a quick glance towards Charlotte.
John Mason finally understood his wife's notion and rose from his crate, a cheeky smile nearly highlighting his handsome features as he set his dishes on the back of the wagon and continued around back towards the slightly worn path to the other wagons.
Molly waited a few seconds and watched as Charlotte continued to peck at her food, her facial muscles sagging from the weight of her frown. "Charlotte, you are going to have wrinkles before you're thirty if you don't smile a bit."
Charlotte wanted to smile at Molly's attempt to cheer her up. But it didn't work. "I'm sorry I'm not much of company today," she sighed.
"Oh, Charlotte, you know we are glad to have you here. What's on your mind?"
Barring her hesitation, Charlotte bent over and set her plate on the ground at her feet before reaching forward and drawing her cup of coffee of the iron rack to herself. She teetered the cup in her lap briefly as the intense heat beat against her hands while she guarded the cup from falling over. Yet she then gave in, wrapping the rag around the cup and bringing the steaming comfort to her lips and taking in a large sip. Charlotte let the fiery hot liquid sear her throat just a bit. To say it may have not been too hot would have been a lie. Yet the numbness she still held on to would not allow her to feel even the physical pain.
"Charlotte?" Molly pressed further.
"It—It's Mr. Brazos."
Molly smiled just a bit. "Is that all?"
"No. It's not what you think."
"Oh, nonsense. I can see the way he looks at you, Charlotte."
"Because he despises me."
Molly chuckled this time, reaching a hand to Charlotte's leg. "Despises you? Darling, that man does everything short of worshiping the ground you walk on. He cares for you, hon. I can tell."
"That's ridiculous."
"How?"
As she flipped through the files of Sam Brazos' wrongdoings in her mind, she began to find it difficult to see him in any sort of bad light. "He—he had the nerve to tell my business to the sheriff. And then he seems…he seems to want to help me…" her voice softened as she continued, "…and be there for me." It was no use. She relaxed into the pleasant thought and took another sip of coffee. She couldn't say anything further about the man that could be considered bad.
"See?" Molly grinned. "He's sweet on you. I can tell."
Charlotte smiled for the first time since entering camp.
"And I can see why. You have the most beautiful smile, Charlotte. A smile that clearly tells me you have a beautiful soul."
"I don't see how that could be what Sam Brazos likes about me."
Molly's forehead creased. "How's that?"
"Because I doubt if he has ever seen me smile."
##
It was quickly decided no matter how much Charlotte protested that the Masons would be sharing their wagon with her, providing her meals around their campfire and shelter from the elements along the dusty, unpredictable journey of the Paradise Trail as it was called. Charlotte had insisted she didn't want to be a burden, a sentiment that had weighed heavy upon her for the past week since her life had been turned inside out.
Sam Brazos was secretly pleased with the arrangement although it would be a cold day in hades before he ever admitted that to a single soul. He would most likely be visiting the Mason's camp regularly as the wagon train master to speak and plan with their leader Brother John Mason and subsequently would have a chance to see Charlotte. That is...if she really wanted to see him. Yet he couldn't quite wrap his mind around why the same woman whom he had saved from sure humiliation and death had begun to think of him as a most hideous excuse of a man. Maybe it was just him. Maybe it was her grief. Maybe he had better let the entire matter drop and focus solely on the job at hand…getting these Mormon settlers across treacherous territory safely to their new home in the West. For that journey would begin bright, early, and eagerly at sunup.