Emma's Journey Read Online Free PDF

of the others will bring him over shortly.” Emma nodded and began her morning duties. She started a fire like she saw Peter do and fixed coffee and bacon for herself. Tears came to her eyes once more, as a sense of loss enveloped her. She missed Peter’s chatter and good morning mood. They’d only shared breakfast for five months, but her heart ached knowing they never would again, and he was gone from her life forever.
    Once more guilt washed over her as she recalled the harsh words she’d hurled at him before he went off to die under the hoofs of a panicked animal. Emma leaned her head back and stared at the cloudy sky. “Peter, you know I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m scared. More scared now that you’re gone. I love you.” She brought her shaky fingers up to her lips and swallowed useless tears.
    A man’s shout yanked her from her thoughts. She stood and took a deep breath, clearing away the remnants of her breakfast.
    “Be careful, men. Don’t hit the side of that wagon. Boy, pay attention!” Ezra and two other men headed in her direction, dragging a travois behind them. The still form of Mr. Davis rested there, either asleep or unconscious. Turning her back on them, she washed the dishes from breakfast, slamming pots, clanking metal utensils. With that done, she kicked out the fire, and stomped over to the bushes to take care of her necessities.
    Ezra squinted against the sun and met her in front of her wagon as she returned. The empty travois sat outside her wagon, where she assumed Mr. Davis was now settled.
    “Miz Thorpe,” he began “I have Davis’s saddlebags here. I’d like to put them in the wagon with him, but I wanted you to know about it.”
    Emma drew herself up, her chin in the air as she viewed the worn brown leather bags with distaste. “If those saddlebags contain any spirits, I’m telling you right now I’m dumping it out before we leave today. I will not have drinking going on in my wagon.”
    Ezra’s lips twitched. “Ma’am, from what I’ve seen, Davis is not a drinking man, but you’re free to look for yourself.”
    “And so I will.” Emma nodded at Ezra and turned back to her work. It was time to load the things she had used for breakfast. After gathering everything up, she tossed it in the back of the wagon at the sound of Ezra’s retreating footsteps.
    She stopped and watched her unwelcome guest lying in the wagon, his eyes still closed. He needed a shave and his clothes were none too clean. She wrinkled her nose, and shifted her gaze. That wasn’t her problem. She’d agreed to nurse him, but nothing else.
    Emma cautiously slid the saddlebags toward her and pushed open the flap with one finger. She viewed some clothes, a knife, and a jar of some type of ointment. After moving them aside, she turned up gloves, a banged up canteen, some jerky, a shaving razor, a little bit of money, a cup, some eating utensils, and a jacket. No bottles of spirits.
    “Find what y’all are looking for?” The raspy voice caused her to jump.
    Emma dropped the saddlebag with a thud. The most beautiful crystal blue eyes she’d ever seen stared back at her. They glowed with either anger or humor, not knowing the man well enough to be sure. She straightened her shoulders. “My goodness, Mr. Davis, you scared me half to death. I thought you were asleep.” Annoyance flooded her at the sound of her breathless voice. She had every right to examine what her wagon carried.
    “Cooper,” the tired voice responded.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Cooper. My name is Mr. Cooper.” His voice was low and deep. From pain, or anger?
    “Then why do they call you Davis?”
    “Because my name is Davis. Davis Cooper. I hate to bother you, ma’am, but can I have a drink of water?” He dropped his head back onto the pallet and closed his eyes. That little bit of effort apparently wearing him out.
    Emma scooped water out of the barrel with his cup and returned to the back of the wagon. She climbed in, spilling