Free What Once We Loved by Jane Kirkpatrick Page A

had made herself of her husband when he'd kidnapped Jessie. “Zane's in French Gulch. Some doctor's treating him. I'm not running,” she told Elizabeth.
    “I know that. Still its wise you leave. No one needs to know just where, exact, unless you let us. That way, he cant find you.”
    “I'll have to risk his knowing where I am anyway, so I can have divorce papers filed. I just want to be a distance north before its done.”
    “I could take them for you. What could he do to a tough old woman?” Elizabeth grinned.
    “He could do more than I'm willing to risk.” Ruth shook her head. “No. I'll let my lawyer do it.”
    “You might ask David Taylor. He has some unfinished business with that man.”
    “I imagine he does.” Ruth stood quietly.
    “And as for my daughter…” Elizabeth nodded toward Mazy. “She's a good woman.”
    “I know,” Ruth said. “I just…”
    “You need some time.” Elizabeth patted Ruths arm.
    “Tell her that for me, will you?” Ruth said.
    The commotion, sounds of harness and hames, cows bellowing and wagon wheels crunching, took Elizabeth by surprise. “Who do you suppose that is, so late?”
    Then the sounds of wagons and dogs barking and a big “howdy” coming out of the night brought people out of the cabin, scooped Elizabeth up into the middle of children and oxen, soft laughter and stars.
    “Another wagon train on Nobles Emigrant Trail, I'll ponder,” Elizabeth said.
    “That you, Elizabeth?” a familiar voice called out.
    “Who is it?” Mazy asked.
“Mazy, Mazy
She's not lazy.
Got herself a dairy.
That's what she'll marry.”
“Seth Forrester!”
    “Hey, Seth's here!” shouted Ned. Elizabeth stepped aside to avoidthe stampede of children heading for Seth Forrester, wagon master, gambler, friend.
    Elizabeth watched her daughter cross her arms, then drop them and stride out to meet the rider stepping off his horse. She put her arms around the tall man in a giant embrace.
    “Or maybe I should have rhymed the last word with ‘lazy and said something like, ‘Some say she's crazy.' “
    “You don't think that now, do you?” Mazy asked.
    The big man bent and swept Sarah up into one arm and Jessie into the other. “You two pistols are packing extra lead,” he said, laughing.
    “Cant be from Ruth's cooking,” Lura told him, fast-walking right up to him, wiping her hands on her apron.
    “We do have extra venison and noodles. Though with that endorsement, you may want to pass,” Ruth offered.
    “You didn't answer my question,” Mazy challenged. Elizabeth could hear lightness in her daughter's stuffy-nosed words.
    “I've had jerky enough, but I suspect some of the folks in this wagon train would find a meal prepared by others' hands welcome indeed.” He set the little girls down. “And no, Mazy Bacon, I'm not one to call a woman following her heart crazy.”
    Were they sparring friends or spooning as they used to call it in her days? Elizabeth wondered. These young people. Who could make sense of them? Well, old-fashioned hospitality was still available, and Elizabeth walked out toward the wagons with kerosene lamps casting yellow shadows on the faces of men, women, and children. “Welcome to California,” she said, speaking to the first woman she reached.
    “You just survived the worst months of your lives, I'll bet,” Lura said, close behind Elizabeth.
    “That's a certainty,” someone said. Tired and drawn faces nodded to Elizabeth as they busily unyoked oxen, keeping them inside the circle of wagons Seth Forrester had guided them into.
    “You're among friends now. May still be foreigners in a foreign land,but you got yourself some guides, folks who have made it. A year ago now, but we did it. Like you. Where you all from?” Elizabeth said.
    “The States,” a man answered.
    “The states of confusion and exhaustion, if you ask my wife,” added another.
    “You'll be right at home here in Shasta City,” Lura told them. “You've joined a select group