Em had never had a Saturday dress. All of her clothes were hand-me-downs. By the time she was twelve she could sew as well as her mother, but the dresses she made were for her big sisters. Her mother told Em it would be foolish to make anything for herself.

Beneath the cover of the wagon, the girls played games and sang on the journey, but when they camped they wanted to help. Everyone gathered firewood, fearing that Trapper might get cold outside. Number One liked to help him with the horses and Two always helped Emery with the meal.

Chubby Four and tiny Five took on the job of washing the dishes and packing everything away. Five wanted to help fish, but after she fell in the stream twice, Emery appointed her the official lookout.

Every morning Trapper looked like he was silently counting as he helped each one into the wagon. Four was always the last one in, with her pocket full of rocks.

When he lifted her in, Four would always pat his cheek and say, “Thanks, Tapper.”

Trapper would secure the back of the wagon, then walk around and help Emery up. She thought of telling him she could climb into a wagon without any assistance, but she liked the gentle way he lifted her. She loved it when his smile reached his blue eyes.

As the days passed, he rode Midnight, circling the wagon and riding ahead from time to time. He’d always come back to her side of the wagon and check on the “little ladies.”

When the wind changed at the start of the second week, the nights grew colder. She worried about Trapper sleeping outside on the ground, but he insisted the cold didn’t bother him.

Emery liked to stay out by the fire long after the girls were asleep. Trapper talked about the weather and the plans for the next day. Thanks to him hunting and fishing, they had plenty of supplies. A wagon they’d past a few days back had told them of a trading post two days ahead. Emery agreed they’d stop there.

“I’d better turn in.” She stood still, wrapped in her blanket.

As he always did, he walked her to the back of the wagon. When his hands went around her waist to lift her up, he whispered, “You know, that first night when I helped you up in the wagon, you kissed me.”

“I remember.” She could feel her cheeks warming. She’d been so grateful he’d agreed to take her.

“I was wondering if you’d thought about doing that again. It was a great way to end the day.”

She looked down, surprised he’d asked. “I thought it was a nice ending to the day also,” she answered. “If you have no objection, I’d like to do it again.”