by Emily Woods
When she was about a hundred feet away from the campsite, she stopped and looked around. Since it was a cloudy night, she couldn't see much in front of her, so she called out.
“Captain Holt, I need to speak to you. I very much hope that you will allow me, or I might keep walking, lose my way, fall down a hole, get captured or eaten by a bear.”
A wry chuckle straight ahead alerted her to his presence.
“What's so funny?” she demanded to know, taking a few steps in the direction she'd heard the chuckle. She found Captain Holt sitting beside the river on a boulder.
“No bears around here, ma'am,” he replied softly. “Not for a ways yet.”
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she made out his face. He didn't look at her, but kept his eyes on the river.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” she asked bluntly. “My son thinks he did something wrong.” She felt her face flush with anger and was once again glad for the cover of darkness.
“I'm real sorry to hear that, ma'am.” She waited in silence for him to explain. Even though he didn't speak right away, she refused to urge him on. Holding one's tongue was often the best way to get another person to talk. It had worked many times for her before, and it worked again now. “Truth is, I'm the one who did something wrong.” She waited for him to continue. “I, uh, put myself before...other people.”
“Explain,” she said quietly, her anger fading a little in the face of his humility.
Jeremiah released a long sigh. “I don't think I can without making you terribly uncomfortable, ma'am. And that's the last thing I want to do.”
“I'm stronger than I look,” she replied dryly. “And I'm not leaving until you tell me.”
Another sigh came from his direction.
“Have it your way then. Well, it's like this.” A long minute ensued before he continued. “I don't generally take children as young as yours on the journey. They get sick or slow us down. But I made an exception for you.”
Her mouth went dry. “Why did you do that?” she whispered.
The moon had come out and she could see him clearly now. His face was wracked with guilt.
“Because...well, because I thought maybe...uh, maybe at the end of the trail you might, um, consent to be my wife, or at least, to court you.”
His words hung between them for a minute or two before she could work up the courage to answer. Her words surprised her.
“And now? Have you changed your mind?”
He swung his head in her direction. “I—I don't have any right to assume that you'd even consider tying yourself to me. I put your child in danger by bringing you along. You almost lost your son today.”
Emma swallowed hard as his words penetrated her thoughts. “Almost, but I didn't because of something you said to that man.” She waited for a minute, but Jeremiah didn't budge. “Can you tell me what you said?”
Jeremiah was hunched over a little, his forearms resting on his thighs. Now he rose and looked directly at her.
“I told them that Jacob was my son…and that you were…my wife.”
Her heart started to race. “You...what?”
“That man wanted Jacob to replace his boy who'd been killed by some white man. I don't know the particulars, but this kind of things happens often enough. They'll kidnap a child and take him into their tribe to replace one they lost. Seems reasonable if you look at it from their perspective, but I wasn't going to let them take Jacob. I'd met the man a few times before, traded with him even, so I thought maybe I could persuade him. I thought if I told him Jacob was my son, he might leave him alone.”
“I saw you,” she murmured. “You put your hand on your gun. You risked your life for him.”
“No,” he argued. “I risked his life for...for my own selfish desires. May God forgive me.”
“He will,” she returned. “God can forgive anyone.”
“Don't know about that,” he mumbled, suddenly starting to pace. “I've done more than a few unforgivable things in my life. Don't ask me what. I don't need you thinking any worse of me than you already do.”
It took some courage, but Emma walked over to where he was and laid a hand on his arm.
“Captain Holt, I don't think badly of you at all. A man who can admit his mistakes is a man I can trust. A man who would risk his life for my child, no matter how the circumstance arose, is a man I could grow to care for…deeply.”
The look of shock on his face was almost comical.
“But I don't deserve that!” he blurted out. “And you don't want me, not really. Look, I'll make sure you get to Oregon City safely. I'll help you set up your land and introduce you to some good men that I know there, Godly men. I'm... I'm not...”
She could see he was struggling to get the words out. “Do you want to know God?” she asked. He didn’t answer, but anguish showed on his face. “It's not as hard as you might think. All you have to do is realize that you're not in control of your life. Tell Him that you accept He is the Creator of the universe. He loves you so much that He sent His own Son to redeem your life.”
“Jesus didn't come for me,” he stated, his words choking him. “I've done so much that I regret.”
Sliding her hand down to his, she pulled it toward her and clasped it between her own. “Then confess it to Him, and He will be faithful to forgive you and cleanse you from all unrighteousness.”
The tormented look on his face began to fade and his eyes bordered on hopeful. “That's in the Bible, right?”
She smiled. “Indeed it is, that and thousands more promises besides. You can read my Bible if you don't have your own.”
His fingers curled around hers.
“I'd like that.” He gazed down at her and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, but she wasn't ready for that just yet and turned her head toward the ground. But then she glanced at him a little to give him a soft smile.
“Thank you, Jeremiah,” she said, boldly using his first name on purpose. The last time had been in a moment of turmoil when she barely knew her own mind. “Thank you for taking us. I know you might not believe it yet, but God used you, even used your own desires to fulfill His plan. You don't know what we left behind, but I'll tell you if you want to hear it, and then you'll know for sure that we were meant to come along. God even used today, just like He uses every situation, to bring us closer to Himself, to bring you close to Him.” She gave him an intent look. “You felt His presence today, didn't you?”
Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah, I did. When it seemed like that Sioux was about to take Jacob, I asked God for help. I couldn't think of a peaceful way out of the situation, but then the idea popped into my head to claim Jacob as my own. 'Son' is one of the few words that I know in the Sioux language.”
Emma released a slow breath. “I believe God is speaking to you, showing Himself to you. He can do that more if you read the Bible. Will you read with us tomorrow night? I usually choose a portion of Scripture to read to my boys every night before bed. I'd be happy to have you join us.
She heard him inhale deeply. As he exhaled, he tightened his grip on her hand.
“Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you.”
Jeremiah walked her back to the campsite, back to her tent, and bid her good night. She turned to him and smiled softly.
“Good night, Captain Holt. I hope you sleep well.”
Jeremiah felt like his body was on fire as he walked back to his own tent. How could he sleep now after having all his hopes and dreams resurrected only hours after he thought they were gone forever?
Talking to Emma had been a balm to his spirit. He'd been sitting by the river, wondering about the point of his life, when she approached. And then, for her to say such things, to first offer understanding, compassion, and then, hope for the future... It had shaken him to his core.
But he wasn't worthy of her. What could he do to make it up to her? To show her how much he meant the words he'd said? He prayed that God would show him an opportunity very soon.
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8
Emma woke up the next morning with an expectant feeling in her heart. The words Jeremiah had spoken the day before gave her every reason to believe that he cared for her, but she couldn't be entirely sure. She'd been wrong before about men, thinking that they were ready to give away their hearts, but they only had their own interests in mind. By his own admission, Jeremiah said he'd set his sights on her before they even left Independence. She would not make the same mistake she'd made with Norman.
“Is it time to get up?” her youngest asked, startling her a little.
“Very soon,” she whispered back. “You can rest a little more, my boy.”
Robbie lay back on his pallet and was soon still again. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Emma could see his small form. What a joy he was to her, and what good care Captain Holt had taken of him. But then her mind flitted in a different direction. Had all his kindness and care toward them been a ploy to win her affections? And if it was, did she mind?
It was hard to sort out her feelings, and as she cast off her blanket, she prayed that God would help her to be wise.
“You're up before the wake-up call,” Jeremiah commented when she emerged from her tent. “I guess you're getting used to this life.”
Even the sound of his voice was enough to make her heart jump. In the pre-dawn light, she couldn't make out his face very well, but his intonation was warm enough to make her flush.
“Perhaps,” she replied, trying to sound cooler than she felt. “But I've noticed that I need more time than the other women to get breakfast ready and whatnot.”
“Well, it's a good sign either way,” he replied.
A thought popped into her head, and she wondered if God had given her the idea as a means to test Jeremiah.
“There's a reason I get up early,” she informed him. “And a reason that I struggle to cook. I'm not really a housewife in the typical sense of the word.” He didn't comment, but stood in front of her, waiting. “I'm actually probably going to have a hard time out west. I have no training in domestic work at all. I'm surprised that you have eaten my meals. They must have been very hard on your stomach.”
She could feel, more than see, his surprise. “I've got a pretty strong stomach.”
“And I'm utterly useless at laundry and whatnot. I'll probably wreck most of my future husband's clothes, if I remarry that is. And the poor man will likely have to eat food that is undercooked or burned for many years before I figure out how to cook properly. Oh, and he shouldn't expect me to help out too much around the homestead. I'm rather puny and weak from having been spoiled for many years.”
She heard him make a low noise in his throat, one of consideration, she supposed.
“Well, it would take a very devoted man to put up with all that,” he said quietly, in a voice almost devoid of emotion. “One who was utterly in love with you, I suppose.”
“Exactly. He shouldn't expect more of me than what I can give.” Now she wondered if she'd undersold herself a little too much. “That's not to say that I can't learn, but he shouldn't expect too much. He shouldn't think that he's getting a perfect wife for farming or ranching. I haven't been raised for it.”
The sky was lightening a little, and as she kept her eyes fixed on his face, she thought she saw uncertainty.
“Well, you're certainly not shy about pointing out your, uh, drawbacks, are you?”
“I thought I should tell you. I haven't been entirely forthcoming about my past, and it seemed to be time to tell you.”
More was left unsaid than said, but she thought he had the general idea. If he thought she would be the perfect wife with whom to start a new life in the West, well, he needed to know that it wasn't true. If he was still interested in her after all that, then she would give him a chance.
Jeremiah spent the day contemplating Emma's words. He still picked up Robbie and held him on his lap mid-morning. He ate lunch with the small family and observed Emma when she thought he couldn't see her.
The truth of her words was very apparent. Her cooking and cleaning skills were not anywhere on par with those of the other women. The bread he'd been given that morning was slightly charred, and he wondered if she'd done that on purpose as a kind of warning. Did any of this matter to him? It might have a month ago, but now he saw Emma as much more than a potential good wife. She was a good and kind human being.
However, he didn't say much to her over the course of the day. He knew what she'd been up to that morning. She'd been warning him, letting him know who she really was and giving him space to consider if he really wanted to hitch his life to hers.
As night drew and they circled the wagons again, he came over to where she was preparing the evening meal.
“Beef stew,” she supplied before he could ask. “With some kind of dumplings. Grace explained how to make them.”
It wasn't long before Tommy and Emma's boys were holding bowls of the food in their hands. The dumplings looked a little odd to him, but he barely cared. His eyes were on Emma as he took the first bite of his food.
Before his mouth could even register the taste, he complimented her.
“Best dumplings I've eaten in a long time,” he murmured, looking directly at her. “Beef is nice too.”
However, to her surprise, her boys were quick to complain.
“Mama, my dumplings are soggy,” Robbie said.
“The beef is too hard to eat,” Jacob added, but Jeremiah was having none of it.
Emma sighed. Her boys had eaten too many of Grace’s delicious meals, and now they easily found fault with hers. Jeremiah saw her sad expression. “Hey now, boys,” he said before Emma could reply. “Your ma's been working for hours to cook up something for us all. I think everything is just fine. We need to be grateful for the food we have, right? Lots of people in the world have nothing at all to eat.”
Robbie slumped a bit. “You can have mine if you want.”
Slowly, Jeremiah rose, took Robbie's bowl from him, and dumped the contents into his own bowl. Emma stared open-mouthed at him.
“I like it, son, and I'll eat it gladly. In fact, I'd eat this every day of my life if I had the chance.”
His eyes meet Emma's and he hoped that she understood what he was saying. He didn't want her for her cooking, her ability to work or help him in his future… He just wanted her.
Robbie watched Jeremiah eat the stew and suddenly regretted giving up his dinner.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Robbie said. “Can I have some more?” He held out his bowl, his face full of guilt.
Emma laughed and gave him a spoonful with a large piece of bread to dunk. His countenance brightened significantly at the sight of the very edible bread.
“I wouldn't mind a bit more of that bread if you have some,” Jeremiah murmured. When Emma extended a piece, their fingers brushed slightly, but enough sparks flew between them to start another fire.
“I'm glad you like it,” she said softly. “Very glad.”
Emma felt that Jeremiah had passed the test and then some. His response to her statements were all that she'd hoped. Norman had wanted a trophy wife who brought a small fortune to the marriage, and even though Jeremiah might have originally wanted her for what he thought she could bring, it was clear to her that all he wanted now was her.
She still had a lot of questions about the future, but in her heart, she truly believed that God had given her a great gift in this man. When she saw how he doted on her boys, the feeling magnified until her heart threatened to burst. And then as he sat and read the Bible with them, his own eyes feasting on the words, she knew beyond a doubt that they had a future between them.
Later on that night, after the boys had gone to bed, the two of them sat by the fire. She decided to confess all that had been on her mind, but she struggled to find the words.
“Jeremiah,” she whispered, placing her hand near enough to his that he could take it should he so desire. “I want to tell you something, but it's hard for me.”
>
He saw the invitation of her hand and took it in his own. At his warm touch, all thoughts flew out of her head.
“Take your time,” he murmured. “We've got lots of it, five months or so.”
She laughed nervously. “Well, I hope things can be settled between us before that.” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to censor them. “I mean... Well, um, no, that's what I mean.”
Now he laughed softly and slowly brought her fingers to his lips. All the others had gone to bed already, so he placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“I hope so too,” he replied. “But I'll tell you this, Emma Pearson. I plan on taking the next five months to court you slowly. I want you to know beyond any doubt by the time we get to Oregon City that you are the only woman for me. And if you agree, I want to make you my wife when we get there.”
Emma thought she might faint. “But how can you be so sure? You only just realized...”
He raised a hand and stroked her cheek. “No, sweetheart. It wasn't just. It took me less than a day to start falling in love with you. From the minute you offered to cancel our deal because of your...cooking, I knew you were so much more than a beautiful face. You are a woman of strength and integrity, a wonderful mother and a kind neighbor. And I am very sure you will be an equally amazing wife.”
His confidence chased all her doubts away, and after looking over her shoulder to make sure that they were utterly alone, she leaned forward, intending to press a small kiss to his cheek, but he shifted slightly so that her lips met his. Her eyes widened and she gasped, not just at the surprise, but at the lightning that flashed between them.
“My, my, Miz Pearson,” he joked, his eyes warm. “I am really going to enjoy courting you.”
And even though she couldn't manage to repeat the words aloud, her heart echoed the same.
Follow the wagon train as they continue their trek westward to Oregon City. More trials and heartaches await the adventurous group as they leave behind their pasts in pursuit of their dreams.