Caleb nodded then refolded the note and tucked it back under the rock. They should get back to camp. But with his heart equally heavy, he couldn't budge.

"Mr. Caleb?" Her lips quivered.

"Yes ma'am."

"Why do babies have to die?"

His whole body trembling, Caleb looked away from her pleading eyes. Cupping his face in his hands, he finally allowed himself to shed tears for Billy and the other eight men in his squad.

Anna trudged through tall grasses along the stream a few feet behind Hattie and her brother. A candle lantern hung at her side, but she hadn't lit it yet. Hopefully someone in the search party would find Davonna Kamden soon so they could all return to camp before dark.

A glance at the sinking sun told her that wasn't likely.

"Something isn't right with that woman." Charles spoke over his shoulder. "Seems a bit daft to me. Probably wandered off and can't find her way back."

"That is why we have to find her." Hattie marched ahead of her brother. "Imagine what could befall her if we don't."

Three of them bunched together looking for her wouldn't do much good, but Anna couldn't sit back at camp and do nothing. Not when that poor woman was out here somewhere. Alone. She could have fallen and hurt herself.

Sadly, Anna found herself in agreement with Charles's theory, if not his exact description. At first, she thought the elder Mrs. Kamden just a little peculiar. Back in Saint Charles, she'd known a few folks considered different from other folks. The trapper back at Little Blue River would definitely qualify as such. Indeed, his differences were obvious and had frightened her.

That day, Caleb had kissed her. Stepping around a rock, Anna pressed her fingers to her lips. That day, she'd kissed him. That day she'd been so sure she'd found a man she could love.

Anna shook her head. She'd been wrong.

And this evening wasn't about Caleb Reger. It was about Davonna Kamden. That was who she needed to think about. That was why she was out here, to help find Mrs. Kamden.

Hattie stopped and raised her hand, signaling for Charles and Anna to stop and be quiet. They did, and after a few seconds she shook her head. "I thought I heard something."

"Probably someone else in the search party." Charles shifted his rifle to his other shoulder. "Awhile back, I thought I heard Caleb calling her name."

Anna resumed her steps. She could do without hearing Caleb's name again this evening. Picking up her pace, she caught up to Charles. "Davonna buried her husband in Memphis, then boarded a paddle wheeler bound for Missouri. Grief could be causing her odd behavior."

Hattie glanced back at them. "Anna's right. Drastic change can affect a person. The poor woman hadn't been in Saint Charles but a few months before her son carried her off for parts unknown."

Anna sighed. Like she'd done to her own mother.

A rifle blast stopped them all midstep. They remained frozen in place until a second shot.

Charles shifted the hat on his head. "That was the signal to say someone found Ian's mother and that she isn't harmed."

"Thank You, God."

Anna's heart echoed Hattie's short prayer.

Charles pointed to the right, up from the stream. "They're not far away either." He turned toward the shots.

"Since she's all right, we can go back," Hattie said.

"Best to see for ourselves, sis. Not harmed doesn't mean they couldn't use help."

Hattie nodded and looked back at Anna.

Anna was ready to get back to camp before full darkness claimed the day, but she didn't dare try to do it alone, lest she end up needing the search party herself. She pulled a match from her apron pocket and lit the candle lantern, then fell into step with the brother and sister. Within a few minutes, they'd reached a bluff at a crook in the stream and a cluster of dogwood trees. Charles stopped suddenly, quietly, and raised his hand. Hattie stopped, and Anna stepped up beside them.

She saw the silhouettes of two people sitting on the ground beneath one of the trees.

Anna took slow steps past the others. Stopping a few feet out, she lifted the candle toward Mrs. Kamden. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"How can I be?" Mrs. Kamden shook her head. "A baby has died."

"A baby?" They only had one baby in their midst. Evie Brenner. It couldn't be her.

"Mrs. Kamden found a grave." The man stood and helped Davonna to her feet, then, after dragging one forearm across his face, he pointed to the ground with the other.

"Caleb?" In the faint light from the candle, she could see that redness ringed his eyes.

Garrett and Caroline rushed toward them from the left, Ian Kamden from the right. "Mither! I was so worried."

Davonna patted her son's cheek. "I am well. Mr. Caleb is a very nice man, you know. The baby made him sad too."

Ian shook Caleb's hand. "Thank you for finding her. For taking care of her."

Caleb nodded, looking straight at Anna but not saying a word.

He had told her the day he kissed her that he had something to tell her, something she needed to know. What if she was wrong not to hear him out?

She squared her shoulders. No.

No matter how desperate she was to believe Mutter could change-that her near-drowning would reform her-there was better chance that Mutter's struggle would continue. No. She wasn't judging Caleb. Not really. She just knew that hearing him out wouldn't make a difference. She couldn't give her heart to a man she knew would break it time and time again, as Mutter had. He'd make promises he couldn't keep, regardless of his desire to do so. Because of alcohol.

"Anna?" Hattie laid her hand on Anna's arm. "I asked if you wanted to walk back to camp with Caleb."

"I don't."

She couldn't.

37.

Saturday morning, Anna walked the road with Maren Wainwright, whose plaited blond hair circled her head. The Danish immigrant suffered from what a doctor in Saint Charles referred to as Night Blindness, with no known cure. And yet Maren possessed a quiet strength and grace Anna desired for herself.

Little Gabi Wainwright and little Maisie Kamden skipped ahead of them, singing to their cloth doll and rabbit. The girls' songs about the birds and rocks tickled Anna, but also pricked her heart. Would she forever be responsible for Mutter and Grovater, or would she one day marry and have a family of her own? She'd started to believe she might ...

She shook her head. Never mind what she thought. Or felt.

It didn't matter.

But still, last night's image of Caleb on the ground with Davonna Kamden, mourning the loss of a baby he didn't know, disturbed her. He hadn't behaved like he'd been drinking. Instead, he'd seemed wrought with grief.

Anna brushed a blade of grass from her apron. Whatever happened to her resolve to lean on God's understanding and to trust Him to direct her paths? She should be thankful God had allowed her to discover the truth about Caleb before she'd let her heart follow him. They'd already kissed. A mistake.

"Your mother? Is she well?" Maren tucked a windblown curl behind her ear and blinked feverishly.

Anna looked at her friend. "Yes. Thank you. She seems to be feeling better than she has in a long while." Anna tugged the brim of her bonnet to better shade her eyes from the sun. "In fact, she's been doing most of the cooking lately."

"Yes." Maren nodded. "She brought us some of her kartoffelpuffer this morning. Even better than Mother Brantenberg's potato pancakes." She pressed her finger to her mouth. "You know you can't tell Elsa I said that."

"Don't worry, she won't hear it from me." Anna smiled. "But I know the secret ingredient."

"Do tell."

"She adds garlic to the hot oil. Says that's what adds flavor. And wards off rheumatism."

"Rutherford asked her for the receipt. Perhaps she can teach Gabi how to make them."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to."

And what a great idea to get Mutter involved with the others. Being around children was good for one's spirit. One of the great blessings of being on the trail with all these families.

"Anna." Maren looked at her, blinking. "You are a good daughter."

Anna looked away, fighting the legions of doubts that plagued her.

"Even before we left Saint Charles, we all saw you." Maren laid her tender hand on Anna's sleeve. "Despite your own grief, you worked to provide for your family. And here on the road, you've done everything you can to care for your mother."

"Thank you." Anna patted Maren's hand. "You are a good friend."

"I know it can't be easy."

Anna shook her head. "No, but we all do what the Lord gives us to do. You are a good example of that, from the very day you boarded the boat in Copenhagen. Now, you're on a wagon caravan crossing this wide desert, all the while anticipating a child." She glanced at the girls scampering ahead of them, then returned her focus to her friend. "You're feeling better these days?"

Maren nodded, bouncing her braided crown. "No more fainting. I count that good."

"Yes, well, you did gain everyone's attention for Rutherford's sermon that Sunday."

Maren giggled, her face turning pink.

"What was it Caleb read this morning? I can't remember."

"From Romans, the fifth chapter?" Maren looked ahead at the two girls. "That's far enough ahead, Gabi girl." She turned back toward Anna. "Something about glorying in tribulations."

"Yes." Anna sighed. "Knowing that tribulation works patience. Patience, experience; and experience, hope."

"I suppose that means we'll both have an abundance of patience by the end of this trip?" Maren smiled.

"Good." Anna swatted a fly away from her face. "I could use a greater measure of patience."

"Me too." Maren pointed at the two little girls twirling just ahead of them then faced Anna. "He's a bit of a surprise, that man."

"Rutherford?"

"Him, too. But I was thinking about Caleb. A man who reveres God's Word. And always helping folks, like your grandfather and Mrs. Kamden."

"Yes." Anna couldn't argue with any of that. Caleb was like no man she'd ever met. Quiet. Smoldering. Emotion in check, but just barely. Sensitive. Compassionate. But if what Mutter said was true, he had a secret Anna couldn't abide.

"Rutherford and I-Gabi too-are excited about the music celebration tonight. You're planning to come, aren't you?"

Anna gulped. Grovater had mentioned the plan over breakfast. She hadn't yet come up with a good enough excuse not to participate. But she couldn't go.

"Your grandfather is playing the mandolin. Rutherford will play his zither." Maren arched her eyebrows. "With all the troubles your family has had lately, a little fun would do you well."

That much was true, if not for the fact that she was trying to avoid Caleb, and it would be even more difficult to do at a Company dance. Especially since he was convinced she was angry with him and he was bent on learning why.

Caroline pulled the hand mirror from her trunk and studied her reflection. Except for the fact that she'd been traveling across the country on foot for a month, out in the elements, she didn't look too terrible. After supper, she'd managed to wash her face and brush out her hair, which now was swept into a chignon. If only her feelings could be so easily contained.

With the attention Garrett Cowlishaw had been paying her the past few weeks, her mind had started thinking about the possibility that she could marry again. The realization that she cared for Garrett tangled her feelings all the more. This wasn't his first wagon caravan. He heard the call to adventure and answered it. He'd traveled this way twice before. In their time together on Sunday afternoons, he'd said nothing about wanting to settle down. He'd been married once already. At one time, he may have planned to have a family, but he could have decided not to marry again. Did he even mean to remain in California once he'd seen the wagons safely there?

"How-de-do, Miss Caroline!" Davonna Kamden's face appeared through the puckered opening in the canvas. "Dear, the family went ahead. I said I'd wait for you, but I can't-"

Caroline held up her index finger. "I'm nearly ready." She tucked the mirror into her trunk then pinned a small hat on her head. She handed her candle lantern to Davonna and carefully climbed over the wagon seat. Her feet on the ground, Caroline smoothed her blue dress and repositioned her lace shawl.

"You look lovely, dear."

"Thank you. You do, as well." Davonna wore a starched green, puff-sleeve dress, and a warm smile that crinkled the soft creases at her eyes. Caroline raised her arm and bent it as a proper escort would.

Her smile deepening, Davonna rested her gloved hand on Caroline's arm. "I already have dance partners."

Plural? "The music hasn't even begun, and you've received multiple requests?"

She held up her other hand. "Three dance partners, in fact. Mr. Tiny. Mr. Lyall Kamden." A finger wiggled with the mention of each name. "And your Captain Garrett."

"He isn't my Captain Garrett." The statement left her feeling a bit cold.

"Well, dear, I don't believe he has a clue about that." Davonna tittered.

Their Sunday horseback rides had everyone making assumptions about the two of them. But she couldn't afford to presume Garrett Cowlishaw's attention meant anything more than companionship to him.

"Oh my stars. I was wrong. Four menfolk reserved a dance with me." Davonna shook her head. "How could I forget about Oliver?"

Caroline swallowed her amusement. "You do have a full dance card."