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reaction to a mere bee sting. She had been with the boy when he died, suffering along with his agony, for none of her herbs and cures could battle his inability to catch his breath. Jimmy had been buried alone beneath the unforgiving desert. |
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A footfall behind her startled Abby, and she jumped. A deep, drawling voice asked, "Abby, what's wrong?" |
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Without turning, Abby knew who had joined her. She whirled to face Arlen Danziger. |
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Arlen, the elected wagon master and uncle of poor, orphaned Jimmy, was not much taller than Abby. Although he had been somewhat soft of build when the train had set off, hard work had turned him lean and muscular beneath his usual wrinkled white shirt and leather vest. The outdoors had changed a handsome but somewhat unformed face into one with resolute character. His formerly fleshy cheeks now clefted into hollows beneath silvery eyes that squinted even when, as now, there was no searing sun. His dark hair was long and straight. |
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He had been a cook in his former life; now he was a leader. From the time they met at the train's formation in Independence, Missouri, Abby had felt an affinity toward him. At this moment, she was flooded with an impulse to throw herself into his arms. |
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That was, of course, impossible. Nearly every unmarried woman on the wagon train had set her cap for Arlen, a kind man who had been taking his dead sister's son to a new life. Emmaline |
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