"Return to Paradise Trail" PART FIVE
Charlotte could feel her warm face partially cool off as her eyes flickered open only to see a blur of her surroundings. She blinked softly, her weak eyelids almost refusing to come back open as she felt another wave of weakness consume her. She barely moved her head, finally identifying the source of the coolness on her forehead as a hand gently pressed a wet cloth to her skin.
"Molly?" Charlotte strained to speak as she forced her eyes open.
Molly sniffed one hard time and smiled. "Charlotte. Welcome back."
"W—what happened?"
Reaching for Charlotte's hand, she drew it to her chest, a small laugh of relief still playing at her vocal chords before she forced it away with an inhale. "You were shot last night."
Charlotte turned her head back to gaze upward at the canvas of the wagon. "Oh, yes. I remember now." She sighed and let her eyes close again. She only barely recalled seeing a glimmer of sunshine through the opening of the wagon before shutting her eyes. Was it morning? Afternoon?
"You rest now." Molly gave Charlotte's hand one last squeeze before she let go and made her way out of the wagon.
"How is she?" John Mason drew Molly closer to himself as he noticed a tear in her eyes.
Molly looked towards her husband, gladly letting him embrace her. "She still has a small fever. John, it's a miracle she's made it this long. But…" Her words caught in her throat, forcing her gaze downward.
John pulled her forward, looking her in the eyes as he reached a finger to brush away a tear from his wife's face. "Have faith."
Sam Brazos tied his horse to the wagon as he rode up from his morning scout and quickly approached the Masons. His step was hurried as he caught his breath from the long ride. "How is Charlotte?"
"Molly says she still has a slight fever." John paused, catching a glimpse of worry in Sam's eyes as his lips pursed. He could tell his thoughts were stirred, anger surfacing in his narrowed eyes towards the men who had hurt the young woman. "Sam, we all did the best we could. She's in God's hands now."
Brazos scoffed as he shifted his weight, one hand steadied against his holster as he glanced to the wagon where Charlotte lay fighting for her life. If he could have taken the bullet in her place, he would have. Instead, he was the only one there who had ever seen such a wound. It had been up to him to remove the tiny metallic menace from Charlotte's shoulder. Thankfully, it had not gone too deep and was a fairly quick ordeal to take care of. Still, Sam had wished a doctor could have taken care of her. His skills were far from the kind that Charlotte deserved.
After reliving the previous night in his mind in the short window of silence, Sam inhaled and moved forward to look at the horizon still yet to be traveled. "We can't stay here for long. We're losing time."
Molly's eyes widened as she stepped forward, her mouth gaping open slightly. "Sam, she shouldn't be moved. Not just yet."
"I know," Sam nearly snapped but held his tongue with a deep breath. "But…we have to move out soon." With that he turned and marched away towards the wagon, his heart still torn between the woman he had grown to love in the past weeks and the wagon train of people who depended upon him to bring them across the prairie safely.
Sam paused at the opening of the wagon and briefly eased the canvas open with the back of his hand before stepping up and into the wagon. He took his hat off quickly and settled by Charlotte's bedside, a smile touching his lips as she turned with her eyes barely open to him in return.
"How you feeling?" Brazos whispered.
Charlotte forced a smile. "I've felt better."
"I'm sure." Sam held her gaze for a second, letting the commotion of the camp filter in the gap of silence between them. "I hope you know you gave us all quite the scare."
"I was rather frightened myself."
Sam hesitated just a bit, opening his mouth to speak but shutting it tightly with a sigh as Charlotte watched him turn away. He slowly turned back to face her. "I thought I had lost you. You know," Sam turned away, this time in reflection, the words catching in his throat, "When you were shot last night, I couldn't help but think about that first day I saw you. I had a gun pointed at those men to stop them from hurting you. Yet…I couldn't do anything to stop that bullet from…" Sam turned to look Charlotte in the eyes, "…from hurting you."
Charlotte swallowed hard as she felt the warmth rise to her face from resisting the tears that stung at her hazel eyes. "It's okay. I chose to take a chance. You can't blame yourself."
"Still," Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he held his lips tightly together while watching the single tear slide down the young woman's cheek. He reached out and brushed it away ever so softly. "I still wish I could have taken that bullet instead."
Charlotte managed to smile before she felt a wave of nausea overcome her. She blinked hard and sighed. "I should get some rest."
"Of course." Brazos moved to leave her to her rest. He had many responsibilities too. Besides, he wasn't sure what had overcome him since last night. Clearing his throat, Sam slipped on his hat and was just about to step out of the wagon when Charlotte's voice stopped him. He ceased his step and lifted his gaze to her.
"Thank you," Charlotte whispered as loud as she could.
Brazos offered her a smile and held their gaze for a second longer before he slipped away, the canvas flap falling into place behind him as he walked off.
##
Day sixteen: When I first started this journal a few weeks ago, I never knew I would actually have a story to tell. Yet so much has happened so far that makes me want to write even more. Not because I'm proud of what has happened. Not everything has been wonderful. I almost died last week. Everyone here has neared death at one point or another along this journey. This fact has caused me to think about why these people desire so strongly to travel westward. To the common man, this is a foolish endeavor. But as I get to know Molly Mason, her husband John, and everyone else here, I begin to understand why. And even after nearly knocking on heaven's door myself, I perhaps understand now more than ever. Hope. It is the strongest motivator I know that can cause one to hang on to their faith and continue on a journey that is no short of life-threatening and life-altering. As long as one has hope, he has everything.
We will be arriving to St. Louis in a week or two if this nice weather holds. This is doubtful according to Sam. But I am praying that it holds. I've never been to St. Louis. It will be a grand adventure to see this big city for the first time.
"Whoa!"
Charlotte snapped her journal shut and set it aside, quickly pulling the covers onto herself as she heard Molly's voice from the front of the wagon. A choir of voices followed, calling to their teams and pulling up on the reins. She could hear the long, familiar sound of wagons rolling to a stop and men's voices echoing to their animals. As Charlotte listened, she could hear Sam's voice as he dismounted his horse. He was shouting a call to the others to make camp for the night while John Mason spoke up in agreement.
"How are you feeling?"
Charlotte nearly jumped out of her body as she heard the voice from behind. "Molly Mason, you startled me."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Molly offered a penitent smile.
"To be honest," Charlotte picked up with the question asked of her, "If I stay cooped up in this here wagon for another day longer, I may just burst at the seams."
The two ladies shared a chuckle.
"You should get better though. You wouldn't want to take a chance of that wound opening up. Besides, that would delay you getting to see St. Louis."
Charlotte sighed. "I suppose you're right."
It took a bit of convincing over suppertime as Charlotte made her case to a very motherly Molly Mason before a good-hearted John Mason finally took her side, encouraging Molly to let her have a bit of fresh air after the evening meal instead of going straight back inside the wagon. They had kept this custom for the past week of travel. But restlessness was finally getting the best of Charlotte. So with her one arm tucked within the shelter of Molly's homemade sling, and a green, hard-backed copy of Little Women in her free hand, Charlotte took the opportunity for a walk among the sunset, traversing a slightly far path from the camp to the cover of an oak tree not too far away.
Charlotte carefully settled herself on the grass beneath the tree and worked at opening her book to where she had left off that afternoon before the urge to journal had come. It took only a few paragraphs to bring a smile to her face despite the fact that reading the book with one hand was a rather difficult chore. But she chose to count her blessings and carry on.
"I never did have much time for reading."
Charlotte glanced upward as Sam Brazos neared her, casting his shadow over her as he found a spot on the grass next to her. He kept his eyes on the camp up ahead as he broke a piece of straw piece by piece between the fingers his strong hands.
"I never had that much time to read either when I was back home helping Mr. Wooster run the store. By the time I got to my room, I was always tired. Being cooped up in that wagon all week has forced me to find my old hobby again I suppose." Charlotte smiled to Sam before casting her eyes back over her book as quickly as possible.
Sam debated silently if he should continue with the small talk or get to his reason for interrupting Charlotte's valuable time alone. He had refused to turn back on his promise. He may as well get it over with while he had a small drop of courage left inside. With a sharp inhale, Brazos turned his eyes to Charlotte. "I'd like to talk with you if possible."
"Okay." Charlotte nodded and set her book aside on the ground. A small gaping silence caused a smile to creep onto Charlotte's face. "What did you want to tell me?"
Brazos was clearly trying hard to avoid his fears and push them from his mind as he tore the final bit of straw in half, its dusty contents falling to the ground with a finality that almost forced the man to speak. "The past several days have shown me a few things. I'm not really the sentimental type. Anybody will tell you that."
Brazos turned to see Charlotte's eyes intently upon him, listening with such a soft fervor that encouraged him to continue.
"Well, you changed that for me somewhat." Sam chuckled dryly and sighed. "In fact, I've been thinking a lot about the idea of asking you to marry me someday. That is…if it's something you want too."
Charlotte could feel her body weaken as she swallowed hard. It took her a moment to realize that Sam in his own way had just asked for her hand in marriage…at least in a way that left the offer open for her to easily accept or decline. Yet saying no wasn't entirely in her mind.
"I've been hard on you," Charlotte sighed and bowed her head. "To think that all those gestures you did for me was purely out of care makes me ashamed for how I treated you."
"No," Sam interrupted and brought his finger beneath her chin softly to raise her eyes to his. "Don't apologize. You were grieving. It's perfectly natural." He drew his hand back to himself. "I'm just glad I was there."
"And I'm glad that you were there when I needed you the most. Heaven knows I needed a friend. And God gave me a whole camp of people who love me."
Charlotte's soft laugh echoed between them as joy slowly welled within her. Yet stifling her laugh to a smile, Charlotte watched as Sam neared her for a kiss…of which she returned with no regret.