Free Journey of Honor A love story by Jaclyn M. Hawkes

rest of the night with her head buried in my chest. It's amazingly hard to rest with a beautiful women glued to you. Did you know that? Not to mention that when you're married, but not really, it kind of tests your self control."
    Mose laughed at him, but then said, "I feel for you, Trace. If I'd have had to keep my hands off Callie, I'd have had to move to another state."
    "I am moving to another state. Unfortunately she's moving with me. Maybe it's fortunately. As it was, I seriously considered just staying in bed this morning and letting the rest of you move on without us."
    This time Mose busted right up with laughter. "I can see you just lying there while the whole rest of the wagon train left without you. What would you have told her when she woke up?"
    He grinned. "That I accidentally slept in?"
    Shaking his head, Mose laughed again and said, "She's a bit too smart for that. You could always stay married to her, you know."
    "I don't think Mormons really marry people who aren't. Plus, I've heard the weirdest s about them."
    Mose shrugged his shoulders. "We've been with them for weeks now and all I've noticed is that they work hard, serve each other, never swear and don't go off and get drunk and shoot each other. Seems to me they have the key to living happily. At least they have a wonderful spirit about them."
    Trace considered this. "They really do, don't they? I thought it was just that I was enamored with Giselle, but Josiah and Petja have that same spirit. I hadn't thought of it that way."
    Turning to leave, Mose said over his shoulder, "You should start thinking of her that way. She's a good woman. You need her."
    As he finished building up the fire for her to cook breakfast, Trace thought about that. Need was too strong a word for this situation, wasn't it? He heard a sound and turned to watch her approaching the fire. No, need was the word all right. She looked positively tempting this morning. Her hair was pulled up and twisted somehow at the back of her head and she looked soft and sweet and still a little sleepy. She looked at him as she came, and walked right up to him to look at him as hard as Mose had. After studying him for a minute she asked, "Are you okay, Trace? You're not sick are you?"
    He laughed at that. "No, not sick. Just a little tired."
    She dropped her eyes and then looked back up and asked earnestly, "Was it me? Waking you up last night?"
    Hesitating, he wasn't sure how to answer that honestly. "Maybe a little. It was probably just those darn teamsters trying to kill themselves at the fort. I'll be fine once I'm awake. Are you okay this morning? You were pretty upset last night. What were you so afraid of? What did you dream?"
    Her face clouded and she shook her head. "Just a nightmare. I have it sometimes. I'm sorry I woke you. Please forgive me." She went to turn aside and begin breakfast, but he stopped her.
    "Its okay, Elle. I was glad to help you. It was awful to see you afraid, and being by me did help, didn't it?"
    Looking up into his face she said, "Being by you was like heaven when I was that afraid. Thank you. I wish you would have been there the other times I've dreamed about it. Those times I wasn't able to stop being afraid like last night. You bring me peace. It's a priceless gift. I'm very grateful."
    He wanted to touch her but didn't dare. Instead he just said, "You're very welcome." They looked at each other for a second or two and then turned away to get on with their morning chores. All morning she was on his mind.
    It was a good thing he had something nice to think about, because the whole morning was a rout. The rowdy teamsters who weren't shot were hung over, and the one who was shot was worthless. At least he was going to live. That was something. It took them an extra hour to get the train headed out that morning, and then within just another couple of hours it began to rain. It settled the dust within seconds, but then it wasn't long before the teams were slogging