“If I sell it, I'll send you the money.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. You're a good friend, Joe.” Will gripped his neighbor's hand and shook it.
Joe glanced at the train, then back at Will. “I wish you weren't goin'. You'll be missed. I wish you luck, friend. Me and Grace will be prayin' for you.”
“We thank you for that. And if you ever have need of an adventure, come north. We'll put you up till you find a place to settle.”
The train's whistle pierced the air and a porter called, “Board!” A band played “My Country ‘Tis of Thee,” and people converged on the train.
“They're certainly making a lot of this,” Jean said, taking Will's arm.
He gathered up the baby and kissed her cheek. Then he wrapped his free arm around his wife. “We're the new pioneers.” He nodded to Joe and David. “I hope we'll see you again one day.”
“Me too,” Joe said and climbed into his truck. “David, you ready?”
David glanced at Laurel, then back at his father. “Can I have a minute?” Joe nodded. David stepped onto the platform. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Laurel said. She'd been hoping for a way to say a proper good-bye. She followed David to the end of the platform. Facing one another, neither spoke. Laurel took a slow, even breath and reached for David's hands. It was time to say good-bye. But what did a person say to a comrade she was probably never going to see again?
She looked up at David. “You've always been a good friend. I can't remember a time when you weren't there for me.” Tears brimmed. “I'm going to miss you.”
“Laurel, please stay. We can have a life together.”
Laurel searched his eyes. “I'll never forget you or our friendship.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then turned and hurried to her family.
Chapter Four
LAUREL PLUMPED HER PILLOW, REPOSITIONED IT AGAINST THE WINDOW, THEN rested her cheek against the padding. The cotton casing felt cool, a welcome contrast to the stuffy, overly warm passenger compartment. She gazed at the desolate countryside. Hour upon hour it had rolled past her window—dried-up pastures, deserted farmhouses, and dry creek beds. The bony fingers of drought had touched so much of the country.
The rhythmic cadence of the train's wheels rolling across steel rails enticed her to sleep. She closed her eyes, then struggled to open them. Too many hours had already been lost to slumber.
Brian dropped into the seat beside her. “You're looking chipper.”
Laurel glanced at her brother, wishing he'd left her to her dreaming. She wasn't in the mood for his energy. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
Laurel sighed. Obviously he wasn't going to let her alone. She straightened and looked into his flushed face. “I was kind of dreaming. Have you been playing tag again?”
“Yep. Were you asleep when you were dreaming? I have lots of dreams.”
“No, not exactly. Does Mama know you're running through the cars?”
“She said it was all right.” Brian pulled his legs up under him and balanced on his knees, making him taller and giving him a better view out the window. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?”
Brian didn't respond but waited for Laurel's reply.
“I was thinking how I'd like to lie in the cool grass beneath a big shade tree,” she finally said.
“Oh, is that all? If I was going to have a dream, it would be about catching tadpoles and frogs at the creek.” His mouth drooped in a frown. “But there isn't no creek anymore. I liked catching tadpoles.”
Feeling her brother's unhappiness, Laurel circled an arm around the little boy's shoulders. “I know. I remember how we used to hide in the weeds and watch the baby ducks.”
“Yeah,” Brian said, snuggling close. He stared out the window. “Mr. Prosser told me we get to cross some real big mountains.”
“Who's Mr. Prosser?”
“Oh, just a man. He's real tall. I met him when Justin and I were playing tag. He's got a wife. Her name's Mrs. Prosser. She's kind of old but real nice.”
A sleeping Susie resting on her shoulder, Jean Hasper sat across from her son and daughter. “I like them too,” she said softly. “They'll be good neighbors.” Gently, she laid Susie on the seat beside her.
“They have a big boy like Luke,” Brian added. “His name's Jason.”
Laurel studied her mother. She looked tired and thin. “Mama, are you feeling all right? You look worn-out.”
Jean rested her hand on her abdomen. “I guess I am. It takes a lot out of a person to chase after your brothers and see to this family.”
Laurel felt bad for not noticing. She'd been so engrossed in her own needs that she'd forgotten to think of anyone else's. “I should have been more help. I'm sorry.” Laurel offered her mother an apologetic smile, then asked, “Where's Daddy?”
“He's in the dining car chatting with Mr. Prosser. You know how it is. Men love to talk about farming and hunting. They have big dreams about our new farms.” She sighed. “I hope they come true.”
Laurel returned to gazing out the window. They passed another tumbled-down fence and deserted house with prairie dust piled to the windows. “It's worse than I thought.”
“I know,” Jean said softly. “So many people suffering.”
