Victoria went to bed confused and restless, but she found herself unable to stay around Gabriel much longer without the conversation becoming more complicated than she was able to deal with. It was difficult to absorb.
He'd told her, twice, in an indirect way, that he loved her.
She didn't know what to make of that. She wanted to believe it, badly. Too badly. Maybe she should just give in now. Stand up, go back to where he was still on his watch, and throw herself into his arms. Admit that she loved him, too…
No, the way she had chosen was wiser. More cautious. Mama and Papa would be able to see the truth in Gabriel, even if she didn't trust herself to discern it. She breathed evenly, willing herself to sleep. All this did no good. Rest was clearly not her friend this evening, no matter how much she tried.
It was nearly dawn when she finally fell asleep, and so she arose far more tired than she'd been the night before. Cursing her overactive mind and Gabriel's confusing statements, she determined to find something interesting or distracting to occupy her thoughts.
Captain Napier saw fit to assign her the duty of helping Naomi with the orphans, which suited her well. The new mother was wonderful with her new, and very large, brood, but there were a lot of adjustments to be made merging children from various families and ages. Consistent rules and structure were paramount, and more help was needed until the children got used to the new family.
Victoria and Naomi's primary task was to keep the children from falling behind their place in what amounted to a long train of wagons going through the mountain passes. On the third day of the journey, through many twists and turns, they were convinced the way was lost, but a scout had been sent to guide them into the proper camp.
There was a collective sigh of relief that they were not hopelessly wandering forever. At that point, with a confident purpose, the mood lightened somewhat. There was still the heavy grief of much loss, and the overwhelming fear of the potential end of their world, but at least they were not the only ones left in it.
Roland was still alive, and leading the survivors. There was hope.
The children responded to the mood change as well. Their youth predisposed them to overwhelming bursts of energy, which were not conducive to simple plodding along beside their wagon. Victoria devised a clever series of games in which the children would race ahead, towards the leader of the wagon train, and then once their energy was spent, they would find a place to rest in the grass or on a rocky mountainside to watch the wagons go by until they revived enough energy to burst forward again.
It was fun for the children, but also spent their energy in a productive way. Those that were still young enough to require naps in the afternoon were relegated to the wagon for that time, while the elders teased each other or practiced the verbal lessons Victoria quizzed them on. As a recent graduate, all the material was still relatively fresh in her mind.
Just now, she carried a very tired Owen on her hip while a boy of about ten recited his math tables. He was doing very well and needed almost no correction, so Victoria's attention wandered slightly.
"Mama?" Owen murmured sleepily as he leaned against her, and Victoria's heart broke a little more. The poor tyke was having a very difficult time adjusting.
"She's gone, Owen," Victoria ran her hand over his hair. "Do you want Naomi to hold you?"
"Mama," He said more insistently, raising his head to swivel around and look for the woman. "MA!"
He pointed frantically, but it turned out to be the same stranger as before.
"Um, continue reciting, Dear, I'll be back in a little bit," Victoria said to the boy beside her. "Stay close to the wagon, it's up ahead. I'm afraid we've been walking rather slowly, haven't we?"
"Yes, ma'am," The boy dipped his head and scampered off, while Victoria approached–what was the woman's name? Angela?
"Hello there," Victoria smiled at the woman, who turned away to say something quietly to the man walking near her. Hadn't she mentioned a husband before?
"Ah, Hello," Angela replied as the man moved further away, his hat pulled down over his eyes.
Angela had such unusually bright green eyes, that even with most of her face covered, she was memorable.
"I'm Victoria, I'm not sure if I introduced myself before," The younger woman offered her hand, and Angela shook it tentatively. "And this is Owen."
"I remember," The stranger looked away while the child stared at her.
"He's having a hard time adjusting to being an orphan, and has mistaken you for his mother more than once. Perhaps you really were related?" Victoria tried to get the woman to be a little more talkative and find out more about her.
"If we are, it would be very distant indeed," The woman shook her head. "I know of no such relative. There is no reason the boy should come to me."
"There are so many orphans, you see," Victoria explained. "I was an orphan myself, and had the blessing of being adopted by a childless couple when I was but five years old. It is a wonderful thing for a child to find a home, and a family. Have you talked with your husband about spending a little more time around Owen? You might be surprised how much you like him. He's a sweet boy."
Victoria planted a kiss on the sleepy child's head. Suddenly shy, he ducked his face into her neck.
"I do not think we could take on a child," Angela shook her head again. "I'm sorry."
"Please, just… I know it is a lot to ask. And Naomi loves every one of them so much, but it is quite a handful. I worry she may think she can handle more than she's able to. If you hold him for a while and still have no interest whatsoever, then I will accept your answer and leave you alone, but if Naomi's burden can be lightened at all, it would be a great help." Victoria pled with her eyes and her words.
"I… suppose I could hold him, for a moment," Angela said slowly.
Victoria gently handed the child into her arms as Naomi walked up. "Oh, there you are! The children were asking… Oh, hello."
"Angela was going to hold Owen for a moment," Victoria explained, releasing the child into Angela's arms. Many people were resistant to children at first, but found they had a knack for it if given the chance. Since Owen seemed already attached to the woman that reminded him of his mother, Victoria thought it might be best to give him a chance at what he wanted.
"He is very sweet," Angela admitted, "but I'm afraid I just can't–"
At that moment, Owen squirmed at being held by the unfamiliar woman dressed like his mother. He reached up and pulled the scarf off her face. "MAMA?" He demanded.
The woman gasped and pulled the scarf back up immediately, before thrusting Owen back into Victoria's arms. "Thank you, I have to go," She said before rushing off.
The younger woman was stunned.
"I'm so confused. She seemed to be warming to him a little, but then… I don't understand her reaction. She wasn't scarred or deformed. There was nothing about her appearance that needed to be hidden…" Victoria looked over at Naomi. "Can you make anything of it?"
"I'm not sure." Naomi had a crease between her eyebrows. "It is suspicious that she did not want her face to be seen, isn't it?"
"And her husband pulled his hat low over his face and turned away, too." Victoria mused aloud. "I thought he might just not want to talk to me, but after her reaction to being seen, I wonder."
"She looked afraid," Naomi said. "And familiar, somehow."
"You recognize her? Is she Rhone, or Cetoan?" Victoria asked. "She said her family had lived in the village for generations..."
"Many Rhone women became Cetoan brides around the time I did," Naomi replied, "but I don't know of any that came this far North to settle in an outlying village. It would be an incredibly strange place to come, either for a Rhone or a Cetoan."
"But you think you know her?" Victoria looked over to where the strange woman had disappeared. "Why would she want to avoid you if you did?"
"I think I should consult with my husband about this," Naomi replied evenly. "He knows best what to do in strange situations, especially if what I'm beginning to fear turns out to be true."
"What is it that you suspect?" Victoria's eyes widened.
"I don't want to say, in case it turns out to be wrong," Naomi frowned. "But nothing good."