by Emily Woods
Now, the only thing she hoped for was to see Michael’s face one more time.
The provisions were running low, and Michael wondered if their efforts had been in vain. Had they left the wagon train just to die of starvation in the middle of nowhere?
He couldn’t confide his doubts to Henry because his brother had steadfastly refused to talk to him for the past twenty-four hours. It was a hard blow, but Michael knew that going to California was not what God had for him. Each hour that passed, he was more and more convicted of it. The stories that Beth had told him further persuaded him. Or rather, they’d been what started his doubts in the first place.
On a positive note, Daniel had recovered enough to be able to sit up. He suffered from headaches and would likely have to stay in Fort Hall for some time to recover fully, but his family was glad. His son, who’d also been injured in the trampling, was now running along as though nothing had ever happened. His bandaged wrist was the only indication that anything had happened.
“How much longer ‘til we get to Fort Hall, do you think?” he asked Henry. Every day, he tried to get some kind of answer out of his brother, but Henry’s heart remained hard. He turned his head away and stared in the direction of the mountains.
However, he suddenly gave a whoop and took off on his horse. Michael stared after him and then saw what Henry had seen. His spirit leaped in his chest and he grinned from ear to ear.
There, in the distance, was the very distinguishable wagon train led by Captain Holt.
“Praise God! Thank you, Lord!” Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Howard exclaimed together.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Thank God.”
It took less than an hour for the two groups to meet, and despite what Captain Holt had said before about not allowing them to rejoin, they were welcomed back. In fact, all the women insisted on arranging a celebration that night and used up the last of their special provisions. There were cakes and pies for everyone. In addition, the men managed to catch several rabbits, so the whole group feasted.
It was several hours later before Michael could find time to speak to Beth in private. By then, he’d heard that she and George had confessed to being siblings. He was glad to hear that everyone had been gracious in extending forgiveness to them for their deception. Of course, no one had really been hurt by the lie, so it wasn’t terribly hard to forgive.
“I’m so grateful that you’re back,” was the first thing she said when he came over to where she was cleaning up their dishes. “I prayed for you all the time.”
He smiled a little, unsure of what he wanted to say first. It didn’t help that she wasn’t looking at him.
“Thank you. I, uh, prayed a bit myself… I mean, not for myself, but I also prayed, well, maybe for myself too.” He let out a sigh exasperated at his babbling. “That is, I learned how to pray. Missus Howard helped me pray.”
Now Beth tilted her head up and regarded him with soft eyes. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that she was on the brink of crying.
“I’m very glad to hear that,” she replied softly before focusing on the task at hand. Biting her bottom lip, she lifted the plates from the ground and was about to bring them to the wagon when he stopped her by taking them out of her hands.
“Beth,” he began in a voice barely above a whisper. “I have so much to tell you, but I don’t know where to begin.”
Their hands had touched when he took the plates, but she didn’t draw back. He took that as a sign of encouragement.
“I—I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling exactly. Everything is all mixed up right now. You see…” He licked his lips, set the plates on the ground, and motioned for her to take her seat. Thankfully, George was elsewhere at the moment, so they had a bit of privacy. “Beth, I, uh, haven’t been much of a Christian in my life. I learned about God when I was a child, but I wandered away from the path my parents laid out for us.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “When the two families refused to follow Captain Holt away from the storm and then almost died, I realized that I’ve been doing that for all my adult life, going my own way, that is. And, well, I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Beth sat demurely with her eyes downcast and her hands in her lap. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and reaching a hand toward hers. He didn’t touch them, but his hand hovered directly above. She understood his intention and slowly turned one of her hands over. It seemed like an invitation, so he gently rested his hand on top of hers.
“You heard about me and George,” she whispered, her fingers curling around his even as her head lowered even further. “I’m so sorry we lied.”
He nodded, barely sensible to her words. All he could think about was the feeling of her small hand holding his. “I’ve known for a while, but I was waiting for the right time to talk to you. I guess God had other plans, didn’t He?”
Now she looked up, a tentative smile on her face. “You forgive our deception?”
Michael nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. “Yeah, I do. I understand it too. We make plans for ourselves sometimes, but God sometimes has something else in mind, right?”
She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yes. I didn’t think this would hurt anyone, and it didn’t seem fair that the government wasn’t giving single women land, but that doesn’t make it right to lie. He showed me that. And now that we’ve confessed…”
It seemed like she was waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t want to presume anything.
“You can have a different future,” he finished. Now it was his turn to admit something. “I’m not going to California. I feel like God put you in my life to warn me, and then the idea sat in my head for a while before I realized that I don’t even want to go.”
She gasped a little and her grip on his hand tightened, causing him to smile.
“You’re not going? Really?”
A grin broke over his face at her enthusiasm. “Really.” His face clouded momentarily. “Henry’s mad at me, but I think he’ll forgive me eventually.”
Blinking a little, Beth swallowed hard. “A brother is a gift,” she said. “You have to make it right with him before you part. We can’t be sure of tomorrow.”
His looked down at their joined hands. “Yeah, you’re right. We still have a few more days before we reach Fort Hall. I’m going to do all I can before he leaves. But for now…” He was overwhelmed with joy at being able to touch her and wanted more than anything to kiss her in the moment, but there were too many people milling around. Already they’d elicited some attention just by holding hands. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand and linked his fingers together.
“Can we go for a walk, do you think? Or will that damage your reputation?”
He barely had the question out of his mouth when she stood up and picked up most of the dishes he’d put on the ground. At first, he didn’t understand, but then he grabbed the bowls and pot and followed her to the wagon, the back of which provided a modicum of privacy. She put the dishes away and then turned toward him, her eyes on his.
“You were saying?” she murmured.
With that encouragement, he reached for her hand once again.
“Beth, you have come to mean more to me than I can say. I want to come to Oregon with you and make a home there. We still have the rest of the trip to decide if it’s God’s will for us to end up together, but right now, my heart is telling me that we are.” He paused and studied her face. “What do you think?”
“I think…” she began softly, her fingers intertwining with his own, “that we should start at the beginning. From here on out, I want to be completely honest with you, even if it changes your opinion of me. There are…things in my past that have affected me so deeply that I never believed I could love. It’ll be hard, but I want to tell you everything. And I want to know everything about you. Can we start there?”
She looked at him earnestly, her expression guarded but colored with expectation, and he knew that there was only one answer he could
give.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice husky with emotion. “We can start there, but, Beth? I don’t believe for a minute that there’s a single thing you can tell me that will change my mind about you.”
A smile so filled with hopeful longing lit her face that he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and brushing the lightest of kisses across her lips. It was just a feather of a touch, but in that moment, he knew that God had brought them together for a purpose, and he was looking forward to seeing that purpose through to the end.
Keep following the wagon train as they continue their trek westward to Oregon City in the next story. More trials and heartaches await the adventurous group as they leave behind their pasts in pursuit of their dreams.
A Healing Love
Love on the Oregon Trail, Book 4
1
Near Fort Hall, Idaho (formerly part of Oregon), July, 1853
Glancing over to where his sister, Beth, had disappeared a moment before, George Lewis tried to summon up feelings of happiness for her. Truly, he was glad that she'd gotten over her apprehension about men, and Michael Morris was a good man for her, but George couldn't help feeling sorry for himself. He'd been lonely for most of his life, but now, without his sister's company, he was more than lonely... He was alone.
The two of them had suffered a miserable childhood, first living at a gold mining camp where Beth had been attacked and where he'd been beaten viciously for rescuing her, and then an equally miserable existence at their aunt's house in Kentucky where their father had sent them after the incident. It had been a rough life at the camp, but his father had been shocked into taking action after George had been rendered unconscious by the much older and much bigger man.
To be fair, everyone had been older and bigger than him at the time. He'd only been eight, but he’d still fought hard to protect his sister, just two years older than him. Thankfully, the drunken man had come to his senses and backed off, but not before walloping George so hard that he’d smashed his head against a large rock. George had been out for several hours after that.
The next ten years of their lives had been hard in a different way, but when he and Beth were sixteen and eighteen, they’d formed a plan. When the time was right, they would sell the gold their father had given them, the gold they’d hidden from their relatives, and make a life for themselves. However, they didn't have the opportunity for several more years until they heard about wagon trains heading west.
Now, here they were, more than halfway to Oregon City with more than seventy other people and fifteen wagons, not to mention numerous livestock, some of which had been lost along the way, including a few heads that they’d bought before leaving.
Despite some of the hardships, he had been happy for the first time in more than fourteen years. Then, Beth had fallen in love with Michael Morris and everything changed. Their plan, which had included pretending to be married in order to secure more land, had fallen to pieces. In a way, he was relieved, because the pretense was difficult to maintain, but he also felt adrift. The future which had seemed so clear in his mind was now becoming hazy.
“You're going to cut off your thumb,” Beth remarked, startling him a little. She nodded at the knife he was using to whittle a small bird out of a piece of pine. “Where's your mind at?”
“I thought you left,” he replied evenly instead of answering her question.
She gave him a curious look, sat down in the chair beside him, and poked at the fire they used to cook their dinner and supply light in the evenings. “Well, I did, but Michael is busy right now. He and some of the other men are discussing what to do about Eugene Howard. He's recovered now, but he's still being difficult.” She was referring to the man who had questioned many decisions made by Captain Holt, their wagon master.
George never thought to do that. The man was experienced in bringing people over the trail, and even though they'd lost a few days, they were all alive. That counted for a lot.
“They're not going to put him off, are they?”
Beth gave a little shrug, her face reflecting uncertainty. “I heard talk that they were thinking of asking him to stay in Fort Hall and then ride the rest of the way with another wagon train. Captain Holt has had enough of that man. First there was the incident at the bridge, and then with his resistance to leave the trail during the storm...”
Not one to comment on other people's business, George didn't have much to say about that, but he thought it was unfair to punish the man for his mistakes.
His face must have said as much, for Beth went on to comment, “If you want to vote otherwise, you should go to the meeting. But keep in mind, this was the second time he’s defied the captain.”
“Defy is a strong word,” he muttered. “More like he just had a different opinion.”
Beth shook her head. “You know as well as I do that this is a life and death trip we're taking. The strange rules about boiling all the water and eating pickles with every meal seem strange, but none of us have come down with dysentery or cholera.”
Both diseases were the worry of most travelers. More people died from these two than from any other cause.
“Yeah, I suppose.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “So, will you go? How will you vote?”
George shook his head. “I'll go along with what the others decide. I’m sure they’ll do the right thing.”
Giving a sigh of annoyance, Beth shook her head and looked at him with dismay. “You need to voice your opinions more, George. Just because you think people will do the right thing doesn't mean you need to keep silent.”
She got up in a huff and strode off in the direction of the Riley wagon. Hope and Grace, the daughter and wife of the preacher, had become good friends of hers. George watched her go, his brows lowered in thought. When had she become so ornery? That wasn't like her.
Then he realized that it had started when she took up with Michael. It wasn't that Michael was a bad influence on her, quite the opposite in fact, but his affection had made her bolder than she'd ever been before. In a way, he kind of liked her like this. The alternative was a quiet little mouse, someone who was afraid of the world.
A small grin appeared on his face, and he gave a little nod. Even though he was sad for himself that she'd found love, he was happier that she had Michael. He’d helped her become a strong woman, and that in itself was a no small miracle.
Sarah Taylor watched her father, Doctor Adam Taylor, join the group of men who were going to decide the fate of the Howard family. It surprised her that he had agreed to go, given how reluctant he was to get involved in other people's business, but he'd explained that it mattered. He didn't think that the man should be abandoned at Fort Hall, and he thought perhaps he could persuade the others. She wasn't sure if she agreed with him concerning the matter, but she was proud of him for standing up for what he believed in.
It wasn't a trait that she'd inherited, although sometimes she wished she had. A sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it, causing both her sister and mother to glance her way.
“Something on your mind, dearest?” enquired her soft-spoken mother, Louise Taylor. Somehow both her parents were on the milder side, and so it was no surprise that she was the same, but her sister was the opposite of all of them.
“Don't just sit there with a nervous look on your face, Sarah,” Margie exclaimed, exasperation filling her voice as it often did. “Spit it out.”
“Let her tell us if she wants,” her mother said gently. She was the only one who could handle Margie to some extent.
However, her sister was not a patient person, and continued to frown at Sarah, tapping her toe and waiting for a reply.
Sarah swallowed hard and then forced out her thoughts. “Oh, well, it's nothing really. I'm, uh, just wondering what the men will decide.”
“That man should have been left behind to fend for himself at South Pass,” Margie declared hotly. “His arrogance could have cost Michael his life. What w
ould have happened if he got lost or attacked by Indians? It was very selfish of him.”
Sarah ducked her head so that her sister wouldn't see her smile. It wouldn't do to upset Margie. She could hold a grudge longer than any person alive, and Sarah had been on the receiving end of her sister's irritation often enough that she tried to avoid riling her whenever possible.
“I suppose Michael was just doing what he felt was right,” her mother replied mildly as she continued to darn her husband’s socks. “He made up his own mind to go after them. It's not up to us to tell someone what to do.”
Even though her mother was reserved, she voiced her opinions within her own family. In any case, they both knew that Margie's outburst had more to do with the crush she’d had on Michael than anything else. However, he'd shown no interest in her and was now keeping company with Beth Lewis, a woman they'd all been led to believe was married. When it came out that she and George Lewis were not a couple, but rather siblings, it had caused quite a stir among those in the train.
Their reasoning was that they wanted to get three hundred-twenty acres of land in Oregon rather than just one hundred-sixty, and no one seemed to fault them for that, but Margie was greatly aggrieved to discover that her plan to win the man's affections amounted to nothing. She was bitter that Beth had caught his eye, but she would never admit it.
Her mother would sometimes make a positive remark about the couple, trying to soften her daughter's heart, and did so now.
“It's nice to see so many people finding love on the trail, isn't it?” she commented quietly. “I guess we shouldn't be surprised given the close quarters.”
“‘Familiarity breeds contempt,’” Margie quoted, still disgruntled. “So I am surprised.”