Word spread about the birth of Eirica’s baby and during the next day well-wishers dropped by to bring special treats or small gifts. The following morning, on their last day of rest, Eirica sat propped against pillows and quilts, feeling quite sinful lying abed. James refused to allow her to get up and lift a finger, no matter how many times she’d assured him she felt fine, was perfectly capable of resuming her activities.

For just a little while longer, she’d indulge in the luxury of having someone see to her needs and those of her children. Holding her infant daughter close, Eirica marveled anew at the healthy pink of her peacefully sleeping newborn. She fingered the girl’s soft reddish-gold curls and ran the tip of her finger down the babe’s button nose.

The baby was no longer wrapped in Rook’s shirt. Before her daughter’s birth, Eirica had torn an old quilt into squares to use for diapers and blankets. She’d even used one of her old dresses to make a couple of gowns. They weren’t much, wouldn’t last through many washings, but they’d have to do. When Summer awoke a short while later, Eirica put the baby to her breast. She loved this closeness, the bond that had already formed between her and this precious child. With Birk, she’d never been allowed the luxury of just watching her newborn child. This baby, this new life, symbolized Eirica’s own new start.

When the baby fell back asleep, Eirica changed her, adding the soiled cloth to a growing mound of laundry. She wrinkled her nose. Already, a pile of dirty garments waited. Between the guilt of not starting that laundry and the growing heat in the tent, Eirica rose from her bed and made sure she was presentable. Cuddling her daughter close, she stepped outside, marveling at how well she felt. A glance down at herself made her smile. She’d soon regain her figure, and it was wonderful to be able to get up without struggling.

Warm, bright sunshine and clear blue skies greeted her. Songbirds filled the air with their sweet music, and around her, the now-familiar comforting bustle of emigrants going about their business went unnoticed. “Welcome to the world, Summer,” she whispered to her sleeping daughter.

Glancing around for a safe place to lay her infant so she could start the laundry, Eirica realized she’d have to empty a box to make a temporary cradle. She spied Coralie sitting alone on a wooden crate, her back to her. Remembering the girl’s worry about becoming a mother, Eirica went to her.

“Coralie, would you like to watch Summer while I start the wash? Unless you’re busy,” she added, noting the sewing in her lap.

A myriad of emotions crossed Coralie’s features as she shoved a piece of pink material back into her sewing basket. Her gaze filled with longing as she stared at the infant stretching in its mother’s arms. Delight and awe followed, quickly replaced by uncertainty and fear. “I’d love to, but I don’t know what to do with her. What if she cries? What if I drop her?”

Eirica laughed and put the baby in her arms. “All you have to do is hold her. Relax and let your instincts guide you.”

Coralie pouted. “I don’t think I have any instincts.” She cuddled the baby close to her breast. “Oh, she’s so tiny, so beautiful. I hope I have a little girl.”

Watching Coralie adjust her hold and sway ever so slightly in a rocking motion that came naturally to most women, Eirica knew Coralie was wrong. She had the mothering instincts, she just didn’t recognize them. “I’ll be by the river if you need me,” Eirica said. “She just ate and I just changed her, so you get the fun part—holding her while she sleeps.”

Back at her own campsite, Eirica put on a large pot of water to boil then took the dirty clothing down to the river to rinse the worst of the soil out. She had nearly finished the washing when James returned from a walk with her other three children. He strode down to the river where she was gathering the washed clothing. All that remained was to hang them to dry.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be up yet. You should be resting.”

Eirica rolled her eyes. “James, I lay abed all of yesterday and this morn. I’m fine. In fact, I’ve never felt so good.” His concern touched her.

He stepped forward and took the wrung-out clothes from her. “I’ll finish this. You go back to the tent and rest.”

Her brows lowered. Well-meaning was fine and dandy, but she wasn’t an invalid. If she had to endure any more time alone in that hot, stifling tent, she’d go crazy. She put her hands on her hips. “James, I’m perfectly able to finish the washing. You’ve already done so much.”

His jaw firmed. “Not enough. You deserve to be pampered and spoiled.” As his voice softened, a hint of pain flashed into his eyes then was gone.

Eirica knew he was remembering her past and though his reasons were sweet, his intentions unselfish, stubbornly she held firm. If they were to marry, they’d have to arrive at some middle ground, for she wouldn’t allow James to treat her like an invalid, nor would she allow him to do more than his share of the work. Her own gaze gentled. “James, you can’t make up for the past. It’s done with. Nothing can change it.”

Obstinate green eyes clashed with equally determined blues. “No, but I don’t have to watch you work hard only days after giving birth. It’s bad enough that we have to leave tomorrow, but at least you can ride.”

She lifted a brow. “Or walk.”

“Ride.” His lips compressed.

“Are you asking or telling me?’ She crossed her arms in front of her and tapped her foot.

He threw his hands up. “Woman, what is it with you?”

Watching him remove his hat and thread his fingers through his thick, wavy black hair, Eirica couldn’t stay mad. She wasn’t really that angry to begin with, but she had to make her point. She stepped toward him and held out her hand for the washed baby clothes he held.

When he glared at her and refused to pass them over, she snatched them from him with one hand and with the other, poked him in the chest with one finger. “Don’t go getting bossy, Mr. Jones. I know my body, know what it can handle. If I need to rest, I’ll rest. If I can’t walk or get too tired tomorrow, I’ll let you know. And if you’re so keen on doing laundry, start with your own.”

With a shove to his chest, she pushed him out of her way so she could gather the rest of the washed items.

Standing at the edge of the bank, James stumbled off balance when the soil beneath him gave way. He fell, landing with a startled yelp, on his backside. Eirica ignored his cursing as she returned to camp.

A short while later, while hanging nappies and blankets out to dry, James came up behind her. His hands slid around her from behind. “I suppose I deserved that.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Suppose?”

He had the grace to look ashamed. “All right, I deserved it. I apologize for being pushy and trying to order you around. I just worry about you.”

Eirica turned in his embrace and smiled. “I know. And it’s wonderful knowing someone cares. But I’m not an invalid. Nor am I a piece of fragile glass.”

James ran his hands up the sides of her neck. His grin turned sheepish. “No you’re not. I forget about that red hair of yours. Forgive me?”

Standing on tiptoe, Eirica kissed him on the mouth. “Forgiven.” They stared at each other until a voice from behind James broke them apart.

“Ahem. If you’re done with your laundry, Eirica, we have a surprise for you.” When Eirica turned, she saw that Jessie stood there, watching, amusement lurking in her dark green eyes.

Eirica blushed.

James scowled. “And what if I’m not done?”

“Tough,” Jessie said, laughing. “Come on, Eirica, everyone is waiting.”

“Waiting? For what?” Puzzled, Eirica glanced around, just now aware of the sound of muted whispers and laughter. To her surprise, there was a large group of women gathering at Sofia’s wagon.

“For the mother of that adorable little girl.” Jessie grabbed her hand. “Come on. James will watch Ian.”

Curious, Eirica followed Jessie, leaving James to scowl after them.

When Eirica and Jessie arrived, the group parted, revealing a makeshift table laden with food. The women quickly sat on a large quilt spread on the ground. Jessie led her to where a pile of hastily wrapped gifts awaited. Her two daughters were jumping up and down excitedly. As soon as Eirica realized all these people were there to celebrate Summer’s birth, she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. Their thoughtfulness overwhelmed her.

Mixed among the women in her own wagon party, there were several others—neighbors on the trail, much as one had neighbors back home. “Oh, my. Oh, my,” she whispered, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

“Well, come on, we’re all waiting,” Coralie said, looking as excited as the two little girls.

Laughing, Eirica used her apron to wipe the tears from her eyes as she took up the seat of honor. For the next hour, Eirica opened gifts—some tied in paper, others hidden in scraps of material, and others unwrapped, folded in a neat square. Excited chatter followed with each revelation. Some of the gifts were new, others used, but all given in sisterly love and support.

Eirica couldn’t believe the number of snowy-white linen gowns, quilts, blankets, tiny dresses and even the knitted sacque with matching booties sitting before her. Anne had even made matching dresses for Lara and Alison and a shirt for Ian so her other children wouldn’t feel left out. She’d never had so many nice things for any of her kids and the thoughtfulness overwhelmed her. Now she knew what Anne, Jessie, Coralie, Sofia and Catarina had been doing all those evenings when she’d felt so left out. They’d been sewing, planning this all along.

Touching the wonderfully soft baby garments, tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never—I mean—” Once again, words failed her.

Jessie leaned forward, an impish light in her eyes. “Just say thank you, Eirica. We know.”

Eirica smiled through fresh tears. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

“Wait, I have one more.” Coralie passed Summer to Jessie who, to the amusement of all, squeaked that she didn’t know how to hold a baby.

Coralie smirked at her. “Nothing to it, my dear sister-in-law.” She handed Eirica a large package.

Eirica peeled back the cut-up canvas sack and gasped. With shaking hands, she lifted up a long infant dress made of pink satin with ruffles and an undergarment of matching linen. The bodice and hem of the dress bore tiny pastel flowers and there was a pink linen blanket to match, with an embroidered center and the baby’s name in one corner.

Oohs and ahhs greeted the sight. Jessie stared at her sister-in-law with a dumbfounded look on her face. “You couldn’t have made that?”

Coralie preened. “Every seam and stitch. I traded for a dress from a woman I met and took it apart to use it for a pattern.”

“I didn’t know you could embroider,” Jessie said, her gaze on the items being passed around.

Coralie, pleased by the reception of her gift, tipped her chin haughtily. “I may not sew or knit very well, but my grandmother in Boston insisted ladies had to be able to embroider their own lace hankies and such.”

Eirica jumped in. “It’s beautiful, Coralie, but where did you get such exquisite material?”

“Just something I had,” Coralie muttered, looking uncomfortable.

Jessie handed Eirica back her daughter then turned to Coralie, a look of admiration and awe in her eyes. “You had one more dress saved, for a grand entrance when we reached Oregon, didn’t you?”

“Oh, Coralie, you shouldn’t have cut up your fine dress,” Eirica said, fingering the exquisite material.

Shrugging, Coralie waved her off and glared at Jessie. “Grand entrances just don’t seem to work for me anymore. Besides, where in Oregon is a farmer’s wife going to wear something like that?” There was no rancor or bitterness in her voice, just pride, as she added, “I even have some left for if I have a girl.”

Eirica rose and gave Coralie a hug, then Jessie. The women all stood and Eirica made sure she thanked each and every one. Then they moved to the food and pots of tea and cocoa Rook had brought over. The merrymaking went on until it was time to start supper.

Several hours later, as the sun lowered, leaving the sky above turning orange and pink, Eirica knew she couldn’t be happier. With the baby sleeping, and her children giggling at something James had said while they ate, she watched. Could life be better? She had three happy children, a healthy newborn and a man who loved her.

Nope, life couldn’t get any better man this.

Nearly three weeks later, a broken axle on Elliot’s wagon forced the emigrants to stop for the night early. No one minded, though. With the first of September right around the corner, they’d been pushing themselves and the animals very hard. They’d come more than thirteen hundred miles, and had another six hundred to go before the snows arrived.

“Well, I for one am not sorry we are stopping here,” Anne said, staring at the myriad falls before them.

Eirica agreed. The view was glorious. Immediately opposite, a subterranean river burst from the middle of the basalt cliffs, sending cascades of foamy white water spewing forth to spill over the rock and sage to the river below. There had to be a thousand waterfalls, some no more than thin ribbons of quicksilver water, others raging torrents.

“This couldn’t be a better place,” she sighed. After leaving Fort Hall, they’d followed the Snake River. Its banks were sometimes impossible to get down due to precipitous, practically vertical cliffs. The landscape had turned volcanic with groupings of black, jagged upthrusts of lava rock. Yet, as if trying to make up for the alien austerity of the valley, the Snake River boasted a marvelous beauty in waterfalls unlike any Eirica had ever seen.

Some were so loud, the emigrants could hear the roar from miles away.

Coralie held out her arms. “Can I take Summer for a little while, Eirica?”

Eirica smiled. “Sure.” She transferred Summer to Coralie’s waiting arms. “If you’d like, you can give her a bath.” She hid her smile at the look of happiness that sparked in the girl’s eyes.

“Really? Oh, I’d love to.” Coralie checked Summer’s nappies. “I’ll even change her.”

Jessie rolled her eyes when her sister-in-law rushed off. “This means she’s not helping Rook and me with supper again. She’s going to be impossible when her own baby is born.”

Eirica chuckled. “I think she’ll be a good mother.”

Wrinkling her nose, Jessie muttered, “Better than a bread baker, that’s for sure.”

The women laughed and headed back toward their own wagons to get a start on the evening chores. Though Eirica longed for a cup of tea, she settled for a long drink of tepid water from the small water barrel on the back of her wagon. The sooner the meal was cooked and clean-up done, the sooner she and James could spend time together, unless he had first watch that night.

As she worked, she let her mind wander over her day. James had spent the day with her, alternating between helping her with the children and her wagon. Now that she wasn’t with child, she insisted on doing her share and had no trouble handling the team.

True to his word, he’d started teaching her what she would need to know, including how to protect herself in case of trouble. But she wasn’t very good with a knife or shooting. She hated the thought that she might someday need to use one in defense, but knew that never again would she be a victim.

When the others learned that James was teaching Eirica to handle weapons, Rook insisted the rest of the women learn some measure of self-protection. When Coralie and Catarina both declined his suggestion, he’d sat them all down and purged from his soul the sad tale of how he’d lost his wife and daughter. For the first time ever, with Sofia sitting beside him, holding his hand, he even mentioned losing his unborn second child. After that, there were no more protests.

Eirica’s days and evenings were filled with lots to do, but her favorite time came each evening, after the children were abed and it was just her and James. They’d stroll in the dark. Sometimes, they talked. Other times, they’d take advantage of a secluded place to kiss. Heat suffused her when she thought of what else they’d done in the deep shadows of the night.

James had shown her just what pleasure he could bring her with his fingers and even more amazing, had taught her to pleasure him with hers. They’d pleased each other several times since she’d given birth to Summer, but it wasn’t the same as having James make love to her. Eirica yearned to experience true love-making with him and share that incredible oneness that only happened when they were joined. But knew she had to wait a bit longer for her body to fully heal from giving birth. Soon, she comforted herself. Soon she’d be able to make love with James again.

As if he knew that she was thinking of him, James walked over to her after tending the oxen and the tent and pulled her into his arms for a deep, soul-searching kiss. “I couldn’t wait another minute for that.”

Eirica flushed. “James, someone will see.”

He grinned. “Everyone knows how I feel about you, sweetheart. I have to go check on the cattle. Can you handle things here?”

“Go. I’m fine.”

“I’ll try to be back in time for supper.”

Eirica watched him mount and ride off. With a sigh, she checked on her children. As usual, Alison and Ian were running around together, playing chase with Hanna and Kerstin, while Lara played on her own by the tent. Coralie still had Summer with her, which left Eirica free to start supper.

Around them, people came and went. Men with thick beards, hats pulled over their heads and exhaustion written in the slump of their shoulders, pushed handcarts high-piled past where she worked. Others led mules and oxen to the water. Newcomers arrived, full-loaded wagons bumping along as families sought to find an uncrowded spot near the river. Tents went up and a multitude of sounds rode on the wind. Another ending to a day on the trail.

Eirica served three plates of beans and bacon, then called her children. Alison and Ian came running, each kneeling down around a wooden box. Ian immediately used his fingers to pick up his beans one at a time and pop them into his mouth. She poured three tin cups of milk. “Now where is your sister?” Lara sometimes had to be coaxed to eat as she hated to stop whatever she was doing. “Lara!”

Eirica strode to the far side of the tent where she’d last seen her daughter playing in the dirt with the wooden figures Rook had carved. The toys were there, scattered among mounds of dirt and rock, but where was Lara? Eirica frowned and turned in a slow circle, searching for her daughter. Bidding Alison to stay with Ian, Eirica went to the Svenssons’ camp. Maybe her daughter had followed Anne’s children. But Lara wasn’t there either. Unease skittered up her spine. Where was she? She wouldn’t wander off, not Lara.

Eirica went from camp to camp, her steps quickening as her panic grew.

James rode toward Eirica’s wagon, as always, eager to see her again. Jeremy and Jordan, along with three other hired men, rode toward Rook’s campsite, each arguing as to who’d be first in line to see what Sofia had fixed for their supper.

Passing the meal line, James sniffed. Whatever Sofia had fixed sure smelled right tempting to a hungry man. His stomach agreed then protested when he rode past.

Before he reached Eirica’s wagon, he heard her voice.

“James!”

At the sound of her high-pitched cry, James spun his horse around. He jumped down and caught her as she ran up to him. “Lara’s gone. I can’t find her. I’ve checked everywhere.” Eirica’s voice rose with panic.

James ran his hands up her arms. “She’s here somewhere, sweetheart. Don’t worry. We’ll find her. Where did you last see her?”

Eirica led him to the side of the tent and the forgotten wooden animals. “She was right here. When I called her for supper, she was gone.” Big blue eyes rounded with fear stared up at him. “James, Lara wouldn’t wander off.”

James knew Eirica spoke the truth. Unlike Ian, who habitually wandered off, Lara tended to stay close, only wandering amidst the Svenssons. While the boy had given him and Eirica this same scare at Fort Bridger when he’d gotten lost, this seemed out of character for the older girl. His unease grew. If Lara weren’t here, where was she?

He snapped his fingers. “Did you check the wagon where the pups are?”

Relief showed on Eirica’s features. “No. I didn’t look there. Do you think?”

“Let’s go check.”

Together, they ran to one of Rook’s wagons. Since many of the supplies had been used up, Rook had cleared a large area in one to make a nice secure shelter for Sadie and her litter. He peered in. Sadie greeted him with a soft woof. Squeals of protest followed when she stood and came to him, eager for an ear rub. Absently, he petted her, his gaze searching the interior of the wagon. No Lara.

“Go back to your babies, Mama,” he told the dog then strode over to Rook. In a low voice, he asked the old cook if he’d seen Lara.

“Ain’t seen the little lass since earlier, when I gave her another wooden toy.”

“What’s wrong?” Sofia joined them, her dark eyes going from James to Rook.

Realizing that it would be dark soon, James stuck his fingers between his lips and gave a shrill whistle, bringing silence to the hired men who were eating. He explained that Lara was missing. “Listen up. I need everyone to spread out, in pairs, and search for Lara Macauley.” He dispatched one man to go fetch Wolf, while he organized the Svenssons along with Dante and Elliot. The first two had rushed over when they’d heard the commotion.

When he’d done all he could, James led Eirica back to her wagon and her waiting children. She grabbed his arm and stared up at him with stricken eyes. “Oh, James, I wasn’t paying close enough attention. I lost my daughter.”

“No. You can’t blame yourself. As you said, Lara never wanders off.”

Summer’s cry interrupted him. Coralie walked up to Eirica with the fussing baby. “I’m sorry, Eirica, but I think she’s hungry.”

James took the infant and handed her to Eirica. Then he tipped her chin up and stared into her eyes. “I’ll go look for Lara.”

Eirica gently rocked the crying baby in her arms. “James, what if—”

“No. Don’t say it. We’ll find her.”

Tears fell from Eirica’s eyes. “I should go with you.”

“No, you have other children who need their mama. Besides, if Lara comes back or someone finds her and brings her to the camp, you need to be here.” Summer’s wails grew as Eirica unfastened her blouse and shielded her nudity with the baby’s blanket. The baby stopped crying as soon as Eirica gave her what she needed.

Alison ran up to them just as James turned to go. “Ma! James! I found Lara’s blankie in the dirt. She must’ve dropped it and now it’s real dirty.”

Both adults glanced down at the little girl. In her hands, she held a small filthy blanket with a large footprint ground into it.

Eirica tightened her hold on her baby as she and James exchanged glances. Both knew if Lara had wandered off, she’d have taken that small security blanket with her.

“Find her, James. Find my little girt.”

James reached down and kissed her, then bent to hug Alison. “I’ll find her.”

Moving among wagons and tents, Birk pushed a handcart, with a hastily made cover stretched across it, over the rough ground. A high-pitched whimper from inside made him stop. He peeled open the cover and glared inside at the tear-streaked face of his daughter.

“Not a sound, Lara girl, or else. Ya hear me?” He held his fist in front of her face.

The whimpering stopped. Lara sucked harder on her thumb and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Satisfied that she’d do as she was told, Birk replaced the cover and continued on. What a stroke of luck. Of all his brats, she was the only one he could count on to obey him. She’d always been afraid of him.

He pushed the cart, his steps hurried. Curses followed in his wake as he shoved past anyone in his way. Finally, he reached the sheltering outcrop of rock where Zeb waited.

“Where ya been?”

Birk snickered and whipped the top off the cart, revealing his frightened child.

“Dammit man, what the hell are you doin’?”

Birk reached in, grabbed Lara and pulled her out. “This here’s one of my brats, ain’t ya, Lara girl?”

Lara shrank from his hold, but Birk pulled her close, kneeling down beside her. “I got a use fer her.”

Zeb ran his fingers through his matted beard. “Man, they’s gonna be lookin’ fer her.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” Using his knife, he cut several curls of her hair and a wide swath of fabric from her skirts, then took her shoes, a tiny pair of moccasins.

Beside him, Zeb paced. The two horses they’d stolen grazed nearby. “We can’t take a kid with us. People will see and be suspicious.”

Tucking away one of the curly tresses, the fabric and the shoes, Birk stood, handing Zeb the second lock of hair. “Oh, we ain’t keepin’ her.” He removed a medallion from around his neck, the one his ma had given him and made him wear. The woman had been so religious, so fanatic in her beliefs, she’d made his life a living hell with her insistence that he ask forgiveness for his sins, real or imagined. He’d endured her beatings, believing he had to pay for his misdeeds. Now others would pay.

He placed the chain around Lara’s neck. “Ya leaves that on, Lara girl.”

He turned to Zeb. “That bitch is gonna know I’s here, that I’s watchin’ her whorin’ ways. Law says she belongs to me, and she might as well know I can come after her or them brats anytime I wants.”

“I thought tha plan was ta wait till Oregon.”

“Still is. But no harm in lettin’ her know jest where she stands. I seen her and that bastard kissin’.” Birk’s hands clenched into two tight fists. “He’ll die fer touchin’ her.”

Inside, Birk burned every time he thought of Eirica with that Jones man. What really riled him was watching that damn Jones bastard act as if he had a right to be with his children. Well, Birk had news for the pair of them. The bitch was still his. Them brats was his. It was time both of them knew she still belonged to him.

Putting Lara back inside the handcart, he gave Zeb instructions as to what to do with the lock of hair.

“Meet me back ’ere, then,” Birk ordered. “And be ready to ride.”