Jacob raised his brows. “Dawn, you know me. Did I ever desire to be around my family rather than spend time with you?”
The air seemed to leave Dawn’s lungs, and she blinked up at him. Sure, during those days in the meadow and alongside the pond, they had each seemed drawn to one another as a moth to a flame. Every waking moment not dictated by their parents or other obligations, they had spent in each other’s company. But that had been seven years ago, when they were young and carefree. While in some ways it felt as though it was only yesterday, much had occurred in the meantime, and life was much more complicated now. “I…I suppose not. But that was so long ago.”
“That fact has not changed, Dawn.”
Dawn swallowed. He could not mean all that he implied. That he felt as strongly about her then as she had always hoped and still did? It could not be. No, it was best not to allow herself to daydream about what deep affection her husband seemed to be declaring. Perhaps the sun beating down upon them had made him delirious? She had to change the subject. Dawn rolled her eyes and forced a laugh. “You make it sound as though your family is insufferable.”
Jacob chuckled. “The house does get a little loud and full with the five of us. And you can always count on them to poke at you. But they always mean it in good fun.” He shrugged. “I know Jared seemed tough, but he went through a great ordeal in the war. He was caught in an explosion and is lucky to be alive. It has hardened him.”
Dawn placed a hand on his arm. “I am sorry. Perhaps time will work to heal the wounds that remain on the inside. We will pray it is so.”
“Yes. Thank you.” Jacob took a deep breath. “Well, best to head on our way, I suppose.”
After they crossed the creek, there was a wide, level trail that traveled alongside the water for as far as the eye could see. For the first time, it seemed, since they had entered Kentucky, it actually appeared that people had come this way before them, the earth bearing the scars of their steps. Of course, to their right, the land drifted up and up, but for now, what a welcome respite.
Even Mary seemed to understand what a blessing it was, for she squirmed atop Samson. “Me walk?”
“Of course you can, my dear.” Dawn moved toward her with a grin. As Mary began to slide from the saddle, though, Jacob came to her aid. He whisked her into his arms and spun her around, coaxing from her fits of squealing laughter.
After several times around, Jacob stopped and seemed to take a moment to gather his own bearings. Then he slowly settled Mary on the ground. A broad, toothy grin split her face as her eyes attempted to focus on the trees around them. It took only a moment before she was marching right along beside Dawn, holding the ends of the reins as if she was the one leading the massive animal.
Less than half an hour later, though, the idea of walking had lost its shine. Head down, Mary did not utter a word of complaint. But her feet trudged forward one slow step after another, the toes of her boots dragging in the dirt. Jacob noticed her lackluster attitude and gave Dawn a knowing look. Then he knelt in front of Mary. “How would you like to ride on my shoulders and see how many tree branches you can reach?”
Immediately, both Mary’s eyebrows and her spirits lifted, and her toothy grin returned. She nodded emphatically, white-blond curls bouncing. As soon as Jacob turned, she scrambled up onto his shoulders. And as he began walking, her little arm shot into the air, reaching for the branches overhead.
Dawn chuckled and shook her head, but it warmed her heart to see. Despite all her squirming and stretching, Jacob carried her along merrily as could be. Mary had been in need of a father figure for quite some time, and he was the perfect man for the job. At least until they made it to Bryan’s Station, that was. She frowned. Would Mary’s uncle step into that role as easily as Jacob had?
CHAPTER 10
Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
SONG OF SOLOMON 7:11
July 3, 1782
Between Big Hill and Richmond, Kentucky
“Can you believe that, after all this time in the wilderness, we will have been to two different settlements in a single day?”
Jacob grinned at the bounce in Dawn’s step as she spoke. Though she loved nature, she, like anyone else, could not help but be thankful for the conveniences a station or town provided. The company of others was nearly always welcome after such a solitary existence. He could only imagine that sensation was heightened for Dawn, who had such little human interaction for all these years. “It is strange, is it not? And Richmond is the largest town we have seen yet. Likely, the largest we will see.”
Her steps faltered now. It was barely noticeable, but there was a slight hesitation before her next step. Her hand went to her other arm. “It has been years since I have been seen inside a town without a cover. We have only seen small stations.”
Jacob stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I know your stepparents did not set a good example of how people will react to your difference, but has anyone seen you differently in all the course of our travel?”
Dawn avoided his gaze. “There have been a few.”
“True. But your stepparents are two of those. And they treated Mary horribly as well, and there is no physical difference with her.”
She closed her eyes, and a pained expression washed over her face. “It is difficult not to doubt. Not to believe the worst.”
“I can only imagine.” Beside them, the wind blew the tall grasses. Their gentle rustle filled the silence and gave him an idea. “But try to see the light within people as you see the light in the world around you. You have such a gift for that.”
That brought a slight lift to the corners of her mouth. Dawn peeked at him with raised brows. “Flowers do not tend to disappoint.”
Jacob chuckled. “What about the poisonous ones?”
She returned his laugh with the soft, melodic sound that warmed his heart. “You have a point.”
