America 1883: The Western Homeland

Chapter 44 Tom Returns

Little John mumbled incoherently, "Tom..."

Margaret didn't hear him clearly, so she crouched down to look him in the eye: "What did you say?"

"Tom!" Little John's voice became clearer.

"Missing Tom?" Margaret paused, then ruffled his hair and whispered comfortingly, "He'll be back."

"Tom!" Little John suddenly bypassed his mother, his little head turning eagerly toward the back of the long convoy.

The next second, he raised his childish voice and screamed, "Tom—!"

Before the words were even finished, the small figure shot off like an arrow, rushing madly toward the back of the convoy!

"Tom—!!" he screamed as he ran.

This sudden action stunned everyone.

"Little John!" Margaret's expression changed drastically, and she hurriedly chased after him.

James, who was on patrol, had just started his horse when his gaze was drawn to a group of people appearing on the horizon.

Tom was driving the carriage when he saw a caravan resting in the distance. A familiar, tearful cry pierced the air and reached his ears: "Tom—!"

He looked closely and saw that the small figure running wildly through the dust was none other than Little John.

boom!

Little John fell heavily into the sand.

Ignoring the pain, without even a cry, he struggled to his feet, his face covered in dust but filled with unwavering determination, and charged towards Tom again, shouting with all his might:

"Tom—!!"

Tom, sitting in the carriage, felt his heart leap into his throat and roared, "Loach—!"

"Whoosh—!"

The loach, which was frolicking with the wild horse, instantly transformed into a black lightning bolt and shot out.

Tom lightly touched the cart shaft with his toes, used the momentum to leap into the air, and landed steadily on the mudfish's back.

"Charge—!!" He spurred the horse's flanks.

"Whew—!!" The loach's four hooves flew, kicking up billowing dust, and swept forward like a whirlwind.

"Tom—!!"

When he saw the figure he had been longing for on that black horse galloping at breakneck speed, Little John let out a heart-wrenching roar!

The voice, filled with ecstasy and grievance, silenced the entire convoy.

"Faster! Mudskipper!!" Tom roared again, his voice filled with impatience.

The loach's speed increased dramatically in an instant!

"John!!" Before the mudskipper could even come to a complete stop, Tom leaped off the horse.

Little John, who had just gotten up, rushed towards the light like a wild animal, recklessly using his last bit of strength, screaming as he crashed into Tom's arms:

"Tom—!!"

Thump! The force of the impact made Tom stumble, as if he had been hit by a pony.

Little John clung tightly to Tom's neck, his small body trembling from heavy breathing and barely suppressed sobs.

Finally, the longing, fear, and ecstatic joy of regaining what was lost, accumulated over countless days and nights, transformed into a piercing cry that seemed to shatter the heavens and almost break its own throat:

"Waaaaaahh ...

Tom hugged the little body, who was crying so hard, tightly in his arms. His heart felt like it was being squeezed and crushed, a surge of sorrow and tenderness washing over him. He patted little John's heaving back repeatedly, his voice gentle yet firm:

"It's me, Tom's back! He's back!"

Perhaps it was the familiar voice that soothed his mind, or perhaps it was the warmth of the long-lost embrace, but before long, little John began to snore softly and evenly in Tom's arms.

Tom picked up the sleeping baby and got up to walk back to the group.

Margaret remained slumped on the ground, her hands tightly covering her mouth, her eyes red-rimmed, tears welling up in them as she struggled to hold them back.

When she saw her eldest son carrying her youngest son and walking towards her step by step, she seemed to be given strength and suddenly sat up.

She bit her lower lip, forcefully brushed the dust off her body, and haphazardly smoothed her disheveled hair, trying to force a smile, but her lips were so stiff that only a barely perceptible curve appeared.

Tom stopped in front of her.

Margaret's gaze swept greedily over his entire body, inch by inch.

My hair has grown long.

The clothes were covered in dust, but surprisingly they fit better.

He's grown taller.

His face was tanned dark and shiny by the scorching sun.

Her palms... the thick calluses stung her eyes!

It felt like something had hit my chest hard.

She wanted to speak, to compliment her on how strong she had become, but her throat felt completely blocked; her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Her whole body trembled uncontrollably, her gaze fixed on her son's face, as if she wanted to etch this lost and regained face into her very bones.

The next second, she could no longer hold back. She suddenly opened her arms and hugged Tom and little John in his arms tightly!

"Hah—!" A short, sharp gasp escaped her throat, only to be abruptly cut off by herself.

Then, a suppressed sob, like a trapped beast on the verge of death, was forced out from between her tightly clenched teeth and deep in her blocked throat!

It was a shriek that was forcibly distorted, yet filled with all the loss and fear of regaining it. With the power to pierce the soul, it stabbed into the hearts of everyone around, making their hearts clench!

After an unknown amount of time, the sound of approaching hooves broke the warmth of the moment.

Margaret quickly wiped away the tears on her face with the back of her hand, forced a smile, looked up at Tom, her voice trembling with a barely perceptible sob:

"The sandstorm is really strong today!"

"Who says otherwise, ma'am!" Tom smiled knowingly, then turned his gaze to James, who stood silently beside him.

James was staring intently at him, his eyes a complex jumble of emotions—deep regret, boundless relief, but ultimately, all of it culminated in an overwhelming joy.

Looking at this wooden post-like fellow, Tom grinned, strode forward, and gave him a solid bear hug:

"Hey James! Tom's back!"

James' body visibly stiffened, his arms hanging limply like a rusty robot.

It wasn't until the words "Tom is back" hit his ears that he seemed to be released from his seal. His bewildered hands suddenly burst forth with tremendous strength, hugging Tom tightly, almost squeezing him into his bones!

But the next second, James shoved Tom away as if he'd been burned, his gaze fixed on what was behind Tom with suspicion: "What...what is that?"

Tom followed his gaze and saw Zack, Simone, and Cooper driving the cattle and pulling the carriage, slowly following behind.

"My team!" Tom proudly waved his hand, gesturing for them to come closer.

After the three of them stood still somewhat awkwardly, Tom introduced them with a smile:

"This tall, thin guy is Zach, and next to him is Simone. They're both from Germany and grew up together. And this one," he pointed to the particularly stocky Cooper, "Cooper, Zach's cousin."

He paused, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, and then uttered something startling:

"They're the 'cowboys' who tried to rob me on the way here!"

"puff--!"

These words were like a bomb, and the three of them were so embarrassed that their faces turned bright red, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into!