Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1) - Page 53

“Mrs. Cooper?” They both turned as the man behind the counter called to them. “I have a note here for you that a Mr. Hale left.”

“Oh, dear.” Emma shot a glance at Davis’s scowling face.

Chapter Twenty

Emma settled quite nicely into a routine. Mae insisted on opening the store as usual, allowing Emma time to sleep a little later in the morning. They both worked together from mid-morning until they closed for dinner at noon. Then Mae insisted Emma take a short nap, after which she took over the store completely, allowing Mae some free time. All three met for a light supper following a six o’clock closing. Tired after the long day, oftentimes Emma retired immediately to her room for the night.

She found Hans Berger to be a quiet, gentle man. His blond, wavy hair was now mostly white, as was his mustache. The lines in his face spoke of a life well lived, and his deep blue eyes sparkled with humor. It was plain the Bergers adored each other, and she enjoyed watching them together. Mae loved to fuss over her

husband, and although he grumbled a lot, it was obvious he was happy to let her do things for him that pleased her so much.

Seeing them together made her miss Davis. She hadn’t realized how much a part of her life he had become over the last several months. Emma longed for his easy outlook on life. Nothing seemed to be a problem to him that couldn’t be solved. She missed his lazy grin, and the way he looked at her a certain way that made her stomach flutter and her heart beat a little faster.

Her musings had her asking herself once more if she loved him. With all that had happened to her, she hadn’t given herself a lot of time to ponder such things. Now with them apart, she could see him and their relationship clearer.

Well, if she didn’t love him, she certainly had a strong fondness for the man. She tried to compare these feelings with what she had felt for Peter, but as time went on she found it harder and harder to remember much about her deceased husband.

Since neither she nor Davis ever spoke of love, she wasn’t sure how he felt about her, either. Although, given the irritation he had with Nate, it seemed possible that his feelings for her ran pretty deep.

A grin crossed her face recalling this reaction to the note the hotel clerk had handed her the other night. Although Davis didn’t ask outright to see it, after reading its contents, she handed it to him. She chewed her lip to keep from smiling at the look of relief on his face when she turned the paper over to him.

Thankful the note was no more than wishing her well before his return to Fort Laramie, it was apparent Nate had written it before he’d decided to stay in Oregon City. No point in telling her husband that. She could handle whatever Nate cooked up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davis had set up a camp of sorts at the building site. In only a few weeks he and the Campbell brothers had hauled all the lumber to the site. They’d quickly dug a foundation, since Davis was adamant about wanting a cellar, and now worked on the frame.

They kept the wagon parked nearby to supply them with food. Davis had lived on his own cooking for years, but he didn’t find himself too happy to revert back to it.

The sun would barely break over the horizon before the men were up and eating breakfast. Then, at first light, they started a day of hammering and cutting. They broke briefly for a meal at noontime, and continued on until light grew too dim to continue. After a supper of usually beans and canned meat, they fell into an exhausted slumber to do the same thing the next day.

Davis was pleased with the progress they were making, and the unusual dry spell that kept them working. As the end of November approached, he promised himself he’d have Emma in her house by Christmas

He missed that little imp. The few times he’d made it into town, he’d grabbed a quick meal, and then fell into a dead sleep in her bed. More than anything, he missed the warm comfort of her body pressed close to him while he slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davis pulled his collar up and the brim of his hat lower to ward off the rain as he rode into Oregon City. He’d left the Campbell brothers arguing over a card game in the wagon, each one accusing the other of cheating. It had been over a week since he had seen Emma, and the rain made the perfect excuse to visit.

Muddy water splashed up the sides of the horse’s limbs and ran down in rivulets as it plodded along, shaking his head once in a while to rid his large body of water. Darkness had descended, and combined with the wind and rain made for a dreary and miserable evening for both animal and rider.

After handing his horse over to the livery man, Davis hurried across the street to the mercantile. Before he reached the door, it whipped open, and Emma stood in the doorway, wringing her hands.

“Hi, darlin’.” Davis grinned at her. “It’s nasty out here, you’ll get all wet standing there.”

The door closed with a bang and he quickly shrugged out of his duster and removed his hat. She flung herself into his arms and burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” Frowning he studied her face.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Nothing. I’m just happy you’re here.”

“Ah, honey. I’m happy to be here, too.” He tilted her face up. “Don’t cry.”

She fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief. “I’m just a watering pot these days. I think it’s the baby.”

He placed his palm on her stomach. “Is everything all right?”

Emma waved her hand, then wiped her nose. “Yes. Fine. So tell me, how’s the house coming along?”

Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical
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