Read A Home in Drayton Valley for Free Online Page B

longed for a large, boisterous family, God hadn’t seen fit to grant her desire. And He’d made the right choice. He’d known her time on earth would be short and that Joss wouldn’t be able to handle the burden of more than two children on his own. Yes, God always knew best.
    Tarsie finished wiping Mary’s face and sat back, placing the limp handkerchief over the armrest to dry. Then she opened the bag that rested between her feet and began pawing through the contents.
    Joss nudged Mary lightly. “You’re not expectin’ another one . . . are you?”
    Despite the pain that throbbed through her midsection, she winged upward a short prayer of gratitude. When she left this earth, at least she wouldn’t be taking a second life with her. “No, Joss. I’m not expecting.”
    He heaved out a mighty breath, and his obvious relief pierced her heart. As much as she knew he loved her, he’d never seen the children as the blessing she believed them to be. Oh, how she prayed he’d find comfort when her time came, knowing a piece of her still lived in the forms of Emmy and Nathaniel.
    Tarsie held up a small bag and bounced from the bench.“I’ll be begging some hot water from the conductor and brew you up a cup of chamomile tea. Maybe it’ll settle your stomach better than the ginger.”
    Mary wanted to tell Tarsie not to bother, but the young woman shot up the aisle before Mary could form a word of protest. She leaned sideways, her shoulder connecting with Joss’s arm. He lifted his arm, and she tucked herself against his side, the warmth of his body familiar and comforting. His elbow curved around her, his big hand cupping her waist. She pressed her face to his chest and closed her eyes against the pain that throbbed fiercely from her breast all the way to her hip. If only the pain would abate. She didn’t want to wake the others another night by crying in her sleep.
    Strength, Father. The simple plea left her heart without conscious thought. Nestled in Joss’s arms, she focused her pain-fuzzy brain and offered another request. A selfish one, perhaps, but she needed to cling to an element of hope. I know this sickness will have its victory, Lord, and I accept Your will. But could You let me live long enough to reach Kansas—to see with my eyes the place where my children will grow to adulthood? Give me a glimpse of their home, Lord, before You take me to Your home.

 5 
    D es Moines, though not as big and bustling as Chicago or New York, still offered a city view. And city smells. Tarsie wrinkled her nose as she scanned the clusters of tall buildings, some of which bore smokestacks belching gray puffs into the pale blue sky. She hoped the Kansas landscape near Drayton Valley proved more pleasing to the eye and fresher to the nose.
    She pulled a restless Nathaniel against her skirts lest he become lost amongst the travelers rushing to and fro on the planked boardwalk. Her days of sharing the single bench seat with both Emmy and Nathaniel had bonded her to the children in ways a year of weekly visits had not. The little boy tipped back his head and grinned up at her, his endearing dimples flashing in his apple cheeks.
    â€œDo you suppose Joss will find a train of wagons leaving yet today?”
    Idly smoothing Nathaniel’s tousled hair away from his face, Tarsie turned to Mary, who slouched beside Emmy on a slatted bench pressed against the depot wall. The tiredness in Mary’s voice matched her drawn face. Tarsie prayed wagon travel would prove easier on her friend than the train’s rocking motion—poor Mary appeared to have aged ten years in the past few days.
    â€œMr. Driscoll told me wagons travel every week toward the western states, so I’d be thinking there’s a good chance we’ll soon be on our way to Drayton Valley.” As eager as she was to reach Kansas, Tarsie secretly hoped they might have a