"Only Mutter's death is my fault."

"You did everything you could for her. Some things are out of our control."

"I wanted to make her well." Anna sniffled. "I thought I could."

"I know." Caroline glanced pointedly at the tea.

Anna raised the cup to her mouth. "My grandfather should've let me go with them." Caleb had gone with Otto to drive Wilma's lifeless body into Rock Creek. After one sip of tea, Anna lowered the cup to her lap. "I should be with my family. What's left of it." She took a short, sharp breath. "What if she wakes up? What if-"

"Anna, you found her already gone." Caroline rested her hands on Anna's knee. "Garrett checked her. And Dr. Le Beau-"

"I know. But my heart can't believe it." Her lips quivering, Anna shook her head again. "I should have left the store with her."

Caroline knew about should have feelings too. Anytime someone you loved died, you second guessed your actions. And they always came up short.

"First, he buried his wife, then his grandson. And now his daughter. Poor Grovater. I should be with him."

"Caleb will take care of him."

Anna hung her head.

Caroline took the cup from Anna and set it on a barrel. After lowering herself to the mattress, she drew her friend into an embrace. Anna's head nestled against Caroline's shoulder as they let fresh tears fall. "Lord Jesus. You see us."

God had nudged Caroline forward, drawn her into a brighter future. Anna's situation was different, but God would do the same for Anna ... in time. Caroline had to believe that for her friend.

Caleb walked alongside Otto on the road to Rock Creek, holding the oxen's lead rope. He chose his path carefully to avoid jostling the wagon. Otto stared straight ahead, but Caleb doubted he saw much. His chest scarcely lifted, his breaths shallow. Otto hadn't spoken a word since leaving camp.

The image of Anna in pain haunted Caleb. All he'd wanted to do was stay. Hold her. Comfort her. But on the one occasion she looked directly at him, all he could see was anger. The only words she'd spoken to him were in protest, saying she should be taking her mother's body into town, not him. But Otto had insisted she remain there with her friends.

Caleb took his hat off and put it right back on. In the silence, his past was on the attack. He could have done more. Whether Anna would listen to him or not, he could have said more to Wilma. If he'd told her everything, maybe he could have made her see the destruction that lay ahead of her. Maybe he could have saved her.

There had to be some way to make his own redemption from the bottle beneficial to someone. If he couldn't comfort the woman he cared for, he'd at least try to be of some help to her grandfather.

"Sir."

Otto drew in a halting breath.

"Are you all right?"

Otto shook his head. "I'm carrying my daughter's dead body to be buried among strangers. It will take time."

Caleb knew about the passing of time but wasn't as confident about time making that much of a difference.

"Alcohol killed her."

Caleb felt his throat tighten with a fresh onslaught of remorse, and nodded.

"Wilma was in the store with Anna. I didn't know-" Otto's voice broke. "You did all you could for her."

Otto shook his head, kicking a clot of dirt in his path. "You know my Wilma got hold of rotgut? It's poison."

"I suspected as much. Saw a merchant's wagon and heard bottles rattling inside. Even suspected trade whiskey." Caleb blew out a long breath. "Thought he was far enough ahead of us ... I should've done more. I'm sorry."

Otto groaned and wiped his face with the back of his arm. "We all tried to help her. Especially Anna. She tried so hard to stop Wilma from drinking, to protect her from the bottle."

Caleb nodded, fighting the lump in his throat. "My family tried to do the same thing for me."

"You drink?"

"I did. I was lost to it. But not anymore. Not since the war."

"How could you give it up, and my Wilma couldn't?"

"Something terrible happened. I might have been able to stop it, had I been sober."

"The trouble I saw in your eyes?"

"Yes sir."

"You told Wilma?"

"About the drinking. Told her I understood alcohol's appeal."

"That explains my granddaughter's sudden change of heart toward you."

Caleb stopped to face Otto. "It does?"

"Wilma would have told Anna." Otto dragged a weathered hand over his face and glanced back at the wagon. "God rest her soul, it wouldn't surprise me if my Wilma didn't say the drinking was in your past." He hung his head. "She may have even used that to keep Anna from holding her to account."

His heart stinging, Caleb wiped his mouth. Why hadn't that occurred to him? Could Anna have really thought him an ally, supporting her mother's drinking?

"My girl didn't know your whole story, then, and in her own struggles, Wilma couldn't believe anyone could walk away from the bottle for good."

A fact Caleb couldn't expect Anna to believe either, or even care about. Not after tonight.

43.

Anna opened her eyes, looking up at the first hint of dawn. Diffused light edged a gray sky. Surely last evening had been a nightmare, and Mutter was really asleep in her hammock inside the wagon. Soon, when Isaac blew his horn, she would grouse about the noise.

Seeing the two wagons that supported the ropes for her hammock brought another wave of tears to Anna's eyes. Neither belonged to Grovater. She'd spent the evening with Caroline at Maren's wagon. If she looked out about twenty feet into the meadow, she would see where Rutherford and Garrett had kept watch over the Wainwrights' camp. Watch over her.

Mutter really was dead. And although Grovater's intentions were no doubt noble, he had indeed left her here.

"Miss Anna."

Anna turned toward the sound of Gabi's sweet voice. The little girl climbed down from the wagon, her woolly brown curls bobbing. Gabi took slow steps toward the hammock, carrying her quilted dolly, an inseparable appendage.

"Are you awake?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Anna sat up, letting her legs dangle over the side of the hammock. "I am awake, sweetheart."

Gabi peered up at her. "PaPa told me about your mutter. She died."

Anna nodded.

"My mother died too."

A new wave of tears welled in Anna's eyes. She remembered Gretchen Brantenberg Wainwright.

"When I was a baby." Gabi's blue eyes glistened. "I'm sorry about your mutter, Miss Anna."

"Thank you."

"I have a new mother now."

"Yes. Mother Maren." Maren had climbed out of the wagon behind Gabi and busied herself at the grub box.

Gabi studied Anna from her disheveled locks to her stockinged feet. "You're prob'ly too big for a new mother." Suddenly extending both arms, Gabi held the doll out to her. "But you can use my Baby Mary."

Anna opened her mouth to speak but couldn't.

"She helps me when I'm sad. When I miss my Oma in Saint Charles real much, I hold Baby Mary like this." Gabi hugged the quilted doll to her chest. "Mother Maren says Baby Mary catches my tears and gives them to God."

Blinking against the tears now brimming her eyes, Anna slid out of the hammock. Kneeling, she pulled the little angel into an embrace.

Grovater had been right to leave her here. This was the perfect place for her this morning. Here, receiving love from sweet Gabi, Anna felt God catching her tears.

Less than two hours later, Anna rode toward a small graveyard on the outskirts of Rock Creek. Boney and several of the others from camp rode with her.

Pulling up on the reins, she slowed Molasses's gait. None of this was real. It couldn't be. But when she and the others approached Grovater and Caleb, the truth was impossible to deny. They both sat on stools in the shade of the wagon, only a few yards from a hole in the ground.

Grovater stood, then Caleb. Black Nebraska soil from the grave still clung to the folds of their trousers. It didn't make sense. Caleb didn't seem like a man who would let drink get the best of him. He worked hard, and nearly every time she saw him, he was helping someone. The only time he spent alone was when he went off to read his Bible. But if it weren't true, why would he tell Mutter he liked to indulge in the drink too?

When Grovater stepped up to Anna's horse and offered his hand, she lifted herself in the stirrup and swung down into his tearful embrace. The others dismounted in silence and gathered around the grave. The slight whistle of the wind accompanied Anna and Grovater on the slow walk to their place beside the grave.

Why had she insisted they go west? Why couldn't she have just let Mutter remain in Saint Charles? Why had she insisted they leave Independence?

Anna looked down to see a form wrapped in a sheet at the bottom of the grave. Lifeless and anonymous in this vast wasteland of the prairie. Mutter finally lay in peace, free of her torment.

If only it were peace Anna felt. Instead, sorrow and regret pushed tears from her eyes and chased them down her face.

Boney read from the Twenty-third Psalm and talked about Mutter's kindness to him when he was a child. He talked of Mutter's German potato salad and shared a story about her helping him find a hiding place when Dedrick kept beating him at hide-and-seek. Good memories of a good time.

And now that was all Anna had left of Mutter-memories. The good and the bad ones.

When Boney had finished and the others walked back to the road where they'd tethered their horses to the fence, Anna remained at the graveside. She knew it was only Mutter's lifeless body there in the ground, but she couldn't leave. She couldn't stop trying to make life easier for Mutter.

Grovater stood beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's time, Anna."

She shook her head, tears streaming her face.

Grovater turned her toward their wagon. The wagon where she'd found her mother dead.

Her breaths shallow, Anna looked at Caleb. He stood beside the front wheel, holding his hat in his hand.

"Anna, I can't begin to express how sorry I am," he said.

She nodded, biting her top lip at a flood of swirled emotions. Sorry for her loss? Sorry he hadn't seen the damage Mutter's drinking could do? Sorry he drank? Sorry he kept dark secrets?

Her whole body trembled. How was it possible that she could hate him and love him at the same time?

She hated the sorrow and sincerity she saw in his eyes.

She hated that he hadn't cared enough to tell her the truth about himself.

She hated that her heart ached for him, that her hand felt cold and she longed to set it in his.

Anna looked at Grovater. "I can't stay here."

Grovater took the lead rope from Caleb and shook his hand. "Thank you. If you'll ride Molasses back to camp for us, we'll see you there."

Caleb nodded, and without looking at her, walked back toward the grave, where Boney waited with a shovel.

She hated the fact that she and Caleb couldn't be together.

After one last glance at the fresh grave, Anna joined Grovater on the road that led to their camp. The road that would take her into a life without her mother.

Grovater cupped Anna's elbow and pulled her close. "Thank you, Anna."

She reared back, startling the oxen. "You have nothing to thank me for, Grovater. I failed Mutter. I failed you."

He shook his head. "If you failed anyone, it is only yourself."

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed his finger to her lips.

"And that's because you expected of yourself what only God could do."

Anna's lips quivered. She could almost see Mutter nodding in agreement with him.

"Anna, you did what I couldn't do." His shoulders sagged. "You took care of your mutter, when she seemed bent on making the task impossible. It wasn't fair to expect more of yourself."