Free Trail of Hope (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) by Heidi Vanlandingham

of love, Sophia. Honor her strength and yours. Because of you both, the little one is alive.”
    She took a deep breath, her fingers gently combing through the boy’s tangled hair. Her thoughts tumbled over each other as she tried to calm her shaky nerves. As the minutes ticked by, she realized it wasn’t working and her nerves were now more jumbled than her thoughts. Clay’s thumb rubbing the tender skin under her ear wasn’t helping either, especially since she was still lying in his lap. And enjoying every second.
    Her inner destruction was interrupted by the child’s pitiful cry. “Papa?”
    Her grip tightened, hugging him close to her warm chest. “It’s okay, sweeting.” Her gaze fell on her doll, lying close to Martin’s crossed legs, and pointed to it. He handed her the doll and she held it in front of the small boy. Her lips curled into a smile when his tiny fingers brushed over the painted face, and Sophia placed her in his chubby little arms. They all smiled when he curled up against her and laid his pink cheeks against the doll’s head for comfort.
    “You’re okay. As soon as we get off the boat, we will find your papa.” I hope. Keeping her voice soft, her captivating whispers calmed him until his little eyes slid closed and he fell into an agitated sleep.

Chapter Twelve
    A warm breeze skipped over Sophia’s skin, and spring blossomed everywhere. In the fading light, she saw the small green buds that had popped up overnight on the trees. A few bare sentinels stood among the color in testament to the hard winter. She hoped they were only late bloomers. All around them, colors blazed with the excitement of new life. Soft yellows and pinks of unknown plants peeked out from among dark oranges and blues as the wild foliage began its spring growth. This land—so close to her new home—was beautiful. After breathing in the frigid winter for so long, the warmth of spring and the fresh air laden with hints of honeysuckle and fir tickled her nose. Even with the small patches of icy snow still splattered across the landscape in every direction, chirping birds created a musical symphony that began to push all memories of the empty wintry silence of the last six months from her mind.
    She pulled her empty arms around her waist, missing the little boy’s tiny grip. She hugged her antique doll instead, but it wasn’t the same. He’d only been with her for a couple of days, but his sweetness had wrapped around her heart. Even with the sadness of saying good-bye, the relief and love she’d seen on the father’s face when he saw his son had made everything—good and bad—worthwhile.
    Martin edged forward, and she slowed to match his shuffling steps. “Bryan said to make camp here.” He tugged once on her arm, then turned and walked back to the motionless wagon.
    Emotionally exhausted, she didn’t want to eat. She simply crawled into the back of the wagon and curled up in the corner. She tried to cover what she could of herself with the blanket’s tattered remains but finally gave up and threw the useless cover down over her legs. She held up the doll and looked into her dirty face, rubbing most of the dust off with her thumb. Sophia sighed and placed the doll back in the crook of her arm, absently whispering to the surrounding emptiness.
    “Clay said we should arrive at our new home tomorrow. If the weather behaves. I don’t mind walking in the rain, I just don’t ever want to see another river. I wish I knew what was going to happen. To see the future.” She frowned as thoughts of her past flashed through her mind. “On second thought, maybe not. I don’t want to know if it’s something bad. At least, until then, I can be blissfully ignorant but happy.” She twirled the doll’s hair around a finger. “If I’m honest with myself, I’d admit to being scared of ending up alone. This morning, Martin asked me to live with him. It’s the oddest thing, but I feel as if I’ve known him all my