Walk By Faith

Families. That was good. Having other women and children along would make this trip so much easier. The families from Michael’s church who’d originally wanted to come with them had decided against the trip. One of the men had been drafted into the Union Army under the new draft law. Another decided to stay behind to help care for that man’s family, and the mother in the third family found out she was expecting. They worried the trip would cause her to lose her baby.

And so it was just Michael and Carolyn, the girls and Clarissa. Clarissa breathed deeply for courage. She hated lying, but after discussing the issue of her divorce, the three adults had decided to tell others that Clarissa’s husband had been killed in the war. That would avoid problems that might arise with some of the women knowing she was divorced.

It still irked Clarissa that she should be ill-treated just because her husband had cheated on her. Chad was the coward and the adulterer, yet some people treated her as though she was somehow tainted now. It hurt deeply to be treated so. Deep inside she’d reconciled herself to her fate and had decided to be proud and strong and do a good job of raising Sophie on her own. After much prayer and long talks with Michael, she’d come to realize that God surely held nothing against her for the divorce. She’d been a good and faithful wife and mother. She would not allow Chad’s foolish decisions to wreck her own faith.

The decision to go with Dawson Clements as their guide had not been easy. The man was certainly a contrast of character and emotions, saving a child one minute, beating a man near to death the next. He obviously had a goodness somewhere deep inside, but he certainly hated showing it. And as much as the man protested talk about God and prayer and professed to have no use for preachers, Clarissa suspected he longed to know Christ, to understand his own bitterness and perhaps find a way to forgive whoever it was who’d brought him to such an attitude.

Because of Dawson’s experience with the army and Indians and the way west, and the fact that he had a commanding way about him that could mean a well-organized wagon train, they’d decided to join him.

When they drew closer to the other wagons, Dawson himself walked out to greet Michael wearing simple denim pants and a plaid shirt with knee-high boots. A gun was strapped to his side, and he still wore the wide-brimmed, black hat.

Clarissa watched him greet Michael with a handshake. Good. At least the man was accepting Michael even though he was a preacher. Dawson’s attitude toward men of God was strange indeed, and Clarissa wished she knew why.

The men talked for a moment, then Michael nodded to Dawson and called out to the women to follow him to a grassy spot ahead. Clarissa followed, and Dawson stood and waited for her wagon to get closer. He walked up then and grasped the halter of one of the lead oxen, shouting, “Whoa, there! Whoa!” Once the animals stopped, he turned to Clarissa.

“You have no help driving these oxen?” he asked.

“I’ll do just fine on my own, Mr. Clements,” she answered defensively. “Michael has taught me well.”

“It can get pretty tiring, ma’am, and sometimes these beasts get ornery and decide not to obey.”

“I’ll handle them.” It irritated her that he should question her ability.

“What if you get sick or break a bone or something? Who’s going to drive your wagon?”

Frowning, Clarissa folded her arms in front of her, a switch still in her hand. “Why do you care, Mr. Clements?”

He pushed back his hat, and Clarissa noticed a lingering bruise on his cheek. He was clean shaven again, and his dark hair brushed his shirt collar. It literally angered her to notice how good-looking he was, which made her feel even more defensive.

“Mrs. Graham, I got this wagon train together, and I intend to see that everyone arrives safely in Montana. Now for the sake of practicality, I need to know you’ll have a backup for the days you can’t drive these oxen, and believe me, there will be such days.”

“I can see you haven’t changed when it comes to always looking at the worst of things, Mr. Clements. Tell me, do you ever wake up joyful, and simply grateful for the new day? Have you ever thought about simply trusting God to see you through things?”

He closed his eyes and let out an obviously disparaging sigh. “Mrs. Graham, we haven’t even left yet and already you’re presenting a problem.”

“A problem?”

He put his hands on his hips and leaned closer. “Yes. I’ll be giving orders on this trip, and I expect them to be followed. Now, I was not trying to insult your ability to lead these oxen. I was simply pointing out a fact. The time will come when you’ll need help with these oxen, so I’ll talk to these families here. A couple of them have older teenage boys who could probably relieve you if necessary.”

“I can’t afford—”

“They wouldn’t expect to be paid. We’re all here to help each other out and make sure we all get through this trip without too many mishaps, ma’am. And if the day comes that I tell you someone else is driving your oxen, I expect you to cooperate. Is that understood?”

Ever since Chad left her, Clarissa had grown proud of her ability to fend for herself, proud enough that she resented any man’s help. She’d show men that she didn’t need a man to take care of herself.

“Understood,” she answered, holding her chin high. “But only because I faint at the thought of getting on your bad side—that’s assuming, of course, that you have a good side.”

He looked her over in a way that made her blush, then grinned. “I do have a good side, ma’am. It pops out every once in a while.” He nodded and tipped his hat, then turned away, calling to her as he walked back to the circle of wagons. “Meet us inside the circle in an hour,” he yelled, not turning back around. “Big meeting.”

Yes, sir, she answered silently. An army man. She should have known that having been an officer, he was accustomed to giving orders. With a man like Dawson Clements in charge, this was going to be a very interesting trip.

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