A Time to Bloom (Leah's Garden #2)(12)

“It’s okay, boy. This is our space for now.” Barker laid his head on RJ’s knee, and he ruffled the dog’s ears. “You disobedient rascal.” Yet something in him was glad his dog was here.

The wheels rumbled beneath them. The car lurched as the train got underway, then soon settled into a rhythmic sway. RJ rested his head back and closed his eye, letting the steady rocking lull a certain peace into his bones.

“On our way, Captain, old boy.” To what he didn’t know. Nor did he care.



By the time the train rolled into Linksburg, Ohio, RJ was grimed head to toe with sweat and coal dust from days of hot, sooty air swirling through the cattle car. He knew he smelled worse than a wet dog, and trying to get a comb through his hair made him consider cutting it off. But at least Captain was groomed and hadn’t complained, not once.

Wearing his uniform without insignias of any kind, since he was now a civilian, and a holster with his pistol and bullets belted under his jacket, he straightened. He would have shaved, but without hot water, he’d changed his mind. Maybe he’d wear a beard from now on.

He tried wiping his hands on his trousers before climbing out to look for Anders, but it was no use. Shaking his head, RJ clambered out of the car, then turned back to click his tongue at Captain.

“Be right back, old boy.”

The horse nickered at him and shook his head. Though the car had been well supplied with hay and water, and RJ by Jemmy’s generous rations, Captain was as ready to get out of the train as he was. Still, it had been better than having to talk to people.

“Where’ve you been, stranger?” A hand clapped his shoulder, and RJ wheeled around to see Anders’s grinning face.

To his credit, his friend didn’t give the barest flinch at the sight of RJ’s eye patch, only slapped him on the back. “I’d hug you, but you’re too dirty. What’d you do, sleep in the coal car?”

“The cattle car.”

With Anders already here, RJ headed back for his horse. He unhitched Captain’s bridle and carefully led him down the plank ramp to the ground.

“Didn’t want to leave your mount alone, huh?” Anders held out his hand to Captain’s inquiring muzzle and whistled low under his breath. “Don’t blame you. He’s a fine one.”

RJ stroked his horse’s broad cheek. “I hope it’s all right I brought him along.” Barker whined. “And the dog.”

“Of course. We’ve got plenty of room in the stable.” Anders eyed the bedroll, knapsack, canteen, and rifle slung over RJ’s shoulder. “You look like you’re joining the army again. That all you got?”

RJ nodded. His words seemed to have dried up, left behind in New York. With his heart. “Just this and a trunk,” he managed to get out.

Anders’s gaze grew keener—his friend always was perceptive. But thankfully, all he said was, “Come on home. Josephine can’t wait to meet you.”

Home. Something he might never know again.

But he had to go somewhere. So RJ followed Anders through the falling summer dusk.

His spirits lifted some as he sat in the circle of lamplight at the Nielsen family table, eating his first hot meal in days and watching the antics of little Marcella, Anders’s and Josephine’s five-month-old daughter. She sat kicking and squealing in her mother’s arms, bringing laughter to her parents and even a reluctant smile to RJ’s face.

Climie Wiesel, a youngish woman Anders had introduced as their friend who helped at the mercantile, sat quietly at a corner of the table. RJ wondered what her story was. An irregularity in her nose spoke of some past trauma, as did the shadows in her eyes. A tender longing touched her face as she watched the baby.

Jonah, Anders’s brother, joined them also, though he apparently lived and worked on a ranch outside of town. Not yet out of his teens, Jonah livened the gathering with his laughter. Yet every so often he’d make a comment that made Anders shake his head. With his ready wit and feeble attempted mustache, the boy seemed to be aiming to be older than he was, yet RJ noted a fleeting insecurity that crossed Jonah’s face whenever he thought no one was watching. This must be the troubled youngest-in-the-family Anders had worried about during the war. Prone to . . . gambling, was that it?

RJ pushed the thoughts away. He really wasn’t up to dealing with anyone’s problems but his own.

“I think I’ll go out and check on Captain.” He pushed back from the table. “All right if I bed down in the barn?”

Anders frowned. “The barn? We’ve plenty of room in here. Come sit by the fire awhile. I want to hear about your time in the army after we parted ways. And to tell you about this letter from my sisters and see if you’d be up for a trip out west. There’s a lot of opportunity out there right now for a man good with his hands.”

“I don’t know if I am anymore.” RJ hesitated. “And I don’t think I’d be quality company for swapping war stories tonight.”

Anders started to protest again, but Josephine laid her hand on his arm. “Let him go, Anders. He must be worn out. RJ, there’s a cot made up for you in the sitting room if you change your mind.”

RJ nodded, gratitude closing his throat. “Thank you, ma’am. Maybe tomorrow night.”

He should say more but couldn’t. Hoping his nods all around would fill in the gaps, he headed out into the welcome darkness, weariness weighting his limbs.