Free Come Home to Me by Peggy L Henderson

raised his eyes to meet her stare, and the smile faded from his face. The unshed tears that shimmered in those blue pools hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, and tugged mercilessly at his heart. The urge to pull her to him, wrap her in his arms and take away her pain pulled at him unlike anything ever had. Jake clenched his jaw. What the hell was happening to him?

 
     
    Chapter 7
     
     
    Rachel fumbled with the ribbons of her bonnet, trying to retie the knot that had come loose from under her chin. She ducked her head low to keep the dust from blowing into her face. A strong gust of wind caught her unawares, and her bonnet went flying out of her grasp. Her skirt flapped wildly around her legs. She lunged for her head covering, and nearly stumbled on a rock on the uneven ground.  The strong wind picked up her bonnet like a kite, carrying it across the grassland. Her skirt snagged in the branches of a sagebrush, and she gritted her teeth, carefully extracting the fabric from the unyielding bush. She only owned three dresses, and couldn’t afford to have this one rip.
     Tommy raced after the precious hat, yelling loudly, “I’ll get it. I’ll get it.” Rachel sighed, and her shoulders slumped. She envied the boy’s enthusiasm and endurance. She’d walked all day, and had no energy left to chase after her bonnet.  If Tommy hadn’t dashed after it, she would have had to give chase herself.
    Today marked the third day on the trail, and already all the days seemed to blend into one. Mr. Wilson usually called an end to travel an hour before sunset, and rang the morning bell before sunup. The wagon train followed a course heading north toward what she’d overheard was the Platte River Valley. From there, they would head west. The landscape hadn’t changed at all, and was a mixture of sandy soil, rolling hills and tall windswept bluffs. Gazing far into the endless distance brought dizziness to her head. They were truly in the wilderness. There was no sign of civilization anywhere. The only indication that other people had come before them was the wagon ruts they followed. Whenever they were near water, the danger of the wagons and animals sinking into quicksand was a constant concern.
    Thomas was as sullen as ever. Rachel hadn’t realized he had brought along several flasks of corn liquor, which he kept hidden under the wagon seat, and he drank heavily each night after supper. The liquor couldn’t last forever, she kept telling herself. At some point, he would run out, and then he would have to come to his senses. She was sorely tempted to grab all the bottles and smash them to the ground. 
    Rarely did Thomas speak to anyone, and during the long days driving the team, he seemed to sink deep within his own mind. None of the other men spoke to him. Thomas’ demeanor didn’t make him an approachable man. As a result, the women didn’t pay much attention to Rachel. She’d caught more than one woman casting glances of pity her way. Although usually cordial, none of the women sought her out for company. Even Mary had been unusually evasive, and stopped talking to her. Rachel took the hint and kept her distance. How much more unbearable would the situation become in the weeks ahead? They all had to rely on each other, and cooperate as one unit, even if they were fourteen individual families.
    Squinting into the wind, Rachel wasn’t sure if the tears that rolled down her cheeks were due to the dust, or if she’d finally succumbed to homesickness. She missed the company of her neighbors back home in Ohio, familiar faces of people she’d known all her life. Bracing against the sensation of someone crushing her chest, she mindlessly set one foot in front of the other, her worn leather shoes sinking into the loose soil. She couldn’t think about home anymore, or the friends she’d left behind.
    She was the one who suggested to Thomas that they move out west so they could make a new start. She had really hoped the