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groups traveling together but most of the emigrants were meeting each other for the first time. There’d be plenty of friction as strangers were forced to learn to work together.

      It was almost noon before he finished and returned to the wagon where his sisters waited with the meal ready.

      Rachel looked ready to burst as he washed his hands and filled his plate. “I’ll ask the blessing,” he said, ignoring her impatience, and bowed his head. His amen was barely out before she spoke.

      “I can’t believe the Binghams are on this wagon train. How are you going to avoid running into her?”

      He pretended not to understand what she meant even though he knew she referred to the relationship he and Abby had enjoyed back then. “There’s a lot of people traveling together. We don’t have to keep company with any we don’t choose to.” He said it as if that solved the entire problem of encountering Abby and he intended it should.

      Rachel sighed. “I just don’t want to see your heart broken again.”

      “It’s not going to happen.” Never again would he give Abigail the right to hurt him. He would do his best to keep a wide distance between himself and Abigail. Two thousand miles over several months lay ahead of them. But all he had to do was avoid her one day at a time.

      Surely that wasn’t impossible.

      * * *

      “Please stay with me,” Mrs. Littleton said to Abby as her husband left to attend to other business. “I’m afraid to be alone at the moment.”

      “Of course.” Abby sat beside her on a quilt. The blond-haired woman’s blue eyes were friendly and welcoming. Her dress was well-worn but clean.

      “You have a sweet baby. How old is he?”

      “He’s just a year old.”

      “I’m sorry to hear about your other children.”

      Mrs. Littleton bent over her son, caressing his brown hair. His brown eyes closed slowly and he slept. “Life can be hard at times.” She looked into the distance. “I hope we can start over in Oregon without so many painful memories.”

      “That is my hope, as well, Mrs. Littleton.” Losing her husband had necessitated her move back to her parents’ home. But it didn’t pain her the way losing her twin brother Andy had. That pain never went away but she had learned to let it sweep through her. It would then settle back into a steady ache. Perhaps in Oregon she could think of Andy without the pulsing pain and regret.

      She hoped for more than freedom from her past with this trip. It was her chance for a new beginning. She had her private plans. When they reached Oregon, she meant to go her own way. She’d work until she saved enough money to set herself up in business. Perhaps she’d run a boardinghouse. All that mattered was she’d never again depend on someone else. But Mother had other plans...plans that involved marrying in such a way as to improve the social and financial status of the Binghams. Abby hadn’t informed her mother yet, but she would not marry again. To her sorrow and regret she had learned a lesson about marriage that she didn’t care to repeat.

      Strange to see Ben on the wagon train. She hadn’t seen him since she ended their relationship six years before. His light brown hair had been tamed some. Only one wave dipped over his forehead. He’d filled out, too, so his six-foot frame seemed all muscle and power. Even his blue-gray eyes had grown serious.

      His expression when he looked her way contained only the cool disinterest of a stranger.

      Not that she could blame him. Six years ago, she’d dismissed him harshly because she knew no other way to end a relationship that held so much promise. She’d balked at the idea of marrying Frank. Begged her mother to allow her to marry Ben, the man she loved. But Mother had reminded her of her promise to take care of her parents and pointed out that Ben couldn’t possibly provide for her and them. Nor could he offer a way of advancing them socially. His father’s mercantile business had floundered in the depressed economy.

      Mrs. Littleton turned to look into Abby’s face. “You’ve had your losses, too, I can tell.”

      Abby’s mind flooded with sorrow as she recalled kneeling beside Andy’s lifeless body. He was but fourteen years old. If only she had spoken up and asked Andy not to ride that high-spirited horse. Instead, she had bragged to the snobby Isabelle that her brother could ride any horse they found. She had been wrong. She’d never told Mother or Father of her responsibility in Andy’s death. Her sorrow and guilt had led her to promise Mother to take care of them. In her mind, she hoped she could replace Andy, become the one Mother counted on.

      “My condolences over your husband’s death.”

      Of course Mrs. Littleton meant Frank, but Abby could not find it in her heart to feel sorrow at his passing. Yes, it left her penniless and back home under her mother’s rule, but it freed her from Frank’s cruelty. She shuddered. She’d never told her parents what marriage to Frank had been like.

      Mother had seen him as the key to a promising future for the Binghams and when Abby protested over his offer of marriage, Mother had reminded her of her promise.

      “Marrying well is the best way you can help us,” Mother had insisted as they discussed Frank.

      “But I don’t love him.” Her throat still tightened as she thought of that day. If only her promise didn’t bind her to do her mother’s bidding.

      “Love is a luxury few of us can afford.”

      “But you love Father, don’t you?”

      “I’m happy with our arrangement.”

      Abby realized later that love was nothing but a flight of fancy. But at the time she still believed in it.

      Out of guilt and duty, and a desire to please her parents, she’d obeyed her mother and married Frank. To be fair, he’d been attentive and gentle when courting her.

      That had ended the day of their wedding.

      Mrs. Littleton patted her arm. “A new beginning will be good for all of us. And please call me Sally.”

      “I’m Abigail or Abby to my friends.”

      Sally chuckled. “Then I’ll call you Abby.”

      Abby glanced at her mother still sitting nearby on her wooden chair. No mistaking the disapproving scowl. She sighed. She tried, oh, how she tried, to please Mother, but nothing ever seemed enough. Why, mother had even hinted that it was Abby’s fault that Frank had died penniless. His grave had barely been covered over when agents from the bank had come and carried away everything but her personal belongings and had given her three days to leave the house. The harsh truth about her husband had been reinforced yet again. Not only was he cruel behind the closed doors of their home, he was foolish in business. She’d gone back to her parents’ home. Where else could she go? Though it had reduced her to striving for her mother’s approval and always falling short.

      Mother would never let her forget her promise.

      She remained convinced that Andy would have fulfilled all her dreams of advancement. And now she expected Abby to be the means.

      “You’ll need to find a suitable suitor soon,” she’d been saying since they made plans to head West. “In Oregon, there are far more men than women. That means you can have your pick of the best.”

      Abby hated the reminder of her duty. Surely she’d paid for it with her marriage to Frank. However, one thing no bank, no demanding mother or cruel husband could take from her was her faith. God would provide the strength she needed for every test and trial. And please, God, a chance to start over.

      Sally shifted and glanced at the sun overhead. “It’s noon. I need to start dinner but I hate to put Johnny down.”

      “Let me hold him while you cook.” Abby held out her arms. By rights she should offer to make the meal, but she doubted Sally and her husband would appreciate her efforts.

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