American Frontier - Chapter 15

Missy sighed as Parker peeked through the door again. "Are you sure I can't help?" he asked, as he had multiple times since they arrived at her house to pack up her belongings.

"I'm sure," she answered. While it was rather sweet that he wanted to help, she found his persistent repeating of the question rather tiresome. And she couldn't think of a way to tell him that she didn't want him handling her underclothing without embarrassing herself.

He returned to his post outside her door, watching for Father, while Missy tucked another folded dress into her small carpet bag. She had filled it and a small trunk with things she would find immediately useful. Now she turned to a small stack of wooden crates Parker had rustled up to pack her more sentimental belongings in.

She didn't have a lot, so it only took a little while to finish. She and Parker carried everything out to the wagon, then returned to the house for a last check.

"Is there anything of yours elsewhere in the house? Dishes? Anything in the attic?" he asked, looking around.

"Oh. Actually, yes." Missy had almost forgotten the small box Mother had told her about shortly before she passed away. Missy hadn't ever looked at it. At first, she had been too grief-stricken. As time wore on, she had forgotten about it, and on the rare occasions it returned to her mind, she had been too busy to do anything about it.

Now at last, years later, she climbed into the musty attic and retrieved the small, ornate metal box. She looked around, wondering if there was anything else she should take. She remembered some of Mother's old clothing being tucked away in one of the trunks. Father could have no use for the old dresses, but perhaps Missy could remake some of them. It would be nice to wear something that belonged to Mother.

She grabbed the trunk and the box and made her way to the small, precarious ladder. Before she could worry about how to get them down, she found herself looking into Parker's stormy eyes.

"What are you doing?" he bit out angrily.

"You asked if there was anything in the attic and I remembered a couple things-"

"But why are you hefting a heavy trunk around on your own?" he interrupted. "I'm fairly certain that I allowed you to come with me only under the condition that you do nothing to strain yourself."

"I didn't feel strained or I wouldn't have done it," she argued.

He shook his head, his expression softening. "Well don't you dare try and lower that heavy trunk. Here, pass me the smaller one and climb down."

She did as he requested. Once she had reached the bottom, he handed her the small box and directed her to the wagon as he climbed up for the trunk. He soon joined her at the wagon and loaded the trunk in.

"Anything else?" he asked, surveying the fairly small collection in the wagon.

"This is all," Missy answered firmly. "Thank you for your help. And thank you for allowing me to come. I'm sorry if I worried you." She looked down and scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dirt.

"I am happy to be of assistance." Parker placed a finger under her chin raising her eyes to meet his. "And I know my hovering is annoying. I just want to keep you safe and healthy. When I saw you, unconscious and injured, it- it was one of the most terrifying moments of my life."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

He shook his head and moved his hand to cup her cheek. "You don't need to keep apologizing."

Missy placed her hand over his as his eyes darted to her mouth. She leaned in, her eyes fluttering closed, anticipating-

"Hello, my friends! Fancy meeting you here!" Thomas' exuberant voice interrupted as he casually put an arm around her and pulled her back a step from Parker.

"If you want to embrace, I would recommend a less public venue," he whispered, glancing around furtively.

Missy followed his gaze and gasped at the surprising number of people walking past on the other side of the street. Many were casting their own surreptitious looks at Missy and Parker and she felt a dark blush rise on her cheeks.

"Oh my."

Parker also looked around, wearing an unconcerned expression that couldn't quite hide the tightness around his mouth. He casually waved at one woman who returned his wave and a small smile before hurrying along with her small flock of friends.

Sighing, Parker looked at Thomas. "Thank you. I forgot where we were for a moment there."

"Happens to the best of us," Thomas replied with his usual, genial smile. "Especially when we're in love," he added in an undertone, winking at Parker.

Parker flushed a bit and Missy felt her own cheeks heating even more. "Thomas," she hissed, hoping to quiet her lively friend before he could embarrass her any further.

He noticed her blush and hesitated, then changed the topic. "So where are you two headed?"

"I'm moving in with Emmaline and Jacob," Missy answered almost too quickly, grateful for the turn in conversation.

"What a brilliant idea! I don't know why we never considered that before."

"It was Parker's idea."

"Then may I congratulate you on your ability to see what should probably be common sense." Thomas offered Parker a handshake and a slap on the shoulder. "It will be a load off my mind to know that Missy is no longer living here."

"Mine as well," Parker agreed. He seemed to have regained his footing in the conversation and he and Thomas quickly dove into a discussion about the horse Parker had harnessed to his wagon while Missy checked to make sure all her belongings were properly secured. She had tucked the small box from the attic into one of the crates, but she now felt a desire to hold Mother's final gift, so she lifted it out. Tonight, when she was alone and finished unpacking, she would open the box and see what Mother had left for her. For now, it was enough to have a small piece of her nearby.