by Emily Woods
There were a few people who would not be able to walk, such as Eugene Howard's wife, Constance. His daughter, Lily, had also been injured in the rockslide caused by her father's impulsive and dangerous actions, but she hadn't sustained anything worse than a sprained ankle, a cut on her face, and a few bruises. Well, that was Tom's opinion in any case.
Although he'd gone by Tommy for most of the trip, he decided to change it to Tom now because it sounded more authoritative. He could have gone with Thomas, but that was a little too fancy for him. Captain Tom or Captain Rutger was how he’d asked people to address him now.
“I can do that. Thanks.” He stuck out his hand like he’d seen Jeremiah do numerous times when thanking someone on the wagon train.
He was grateful that both the doctor and the preacher had remained with this half of the group. Although he didn't feel like a novice at the age of twenty-seven, he was nonetheless glad to have older men in leadership positions to support him.
And that was exactly what they did. The preacher gave him wise advice on how to encourage the travelers and the doctor kept him informed as to their physical health. The wagon train might be smaller and without its original leader, but he had every reason to hope that they would be able to make the rest of the trip.
“We'll start out tomorrow then,” he declared. “Captain Holt told me that he'd leave a marker every six to seven miles, so we should aim for that if we can.”
The two of them had determined that Jeremiah would stop every six or seven miles and paint a nearby rock blue so that they'd know they were on the right trail. Thankfully, the doctor's daughter Sarah had the paint and was willing to sacrifice it for the sake of the group.
Since there didn't seem to be anything else the two of them needed to discuss, Tom left the doctor's campsite and moved around to let the others know that they would be heading out tomorrow. Most of them had been eagerly anticipating the announcement, but he knew that others would be nervous.
“I'm glad to hear it, Captain Rutger,” the preacher said with a smile and a nod. “It's been good for us to rest, but we're all anxious to be on our way.”
The smile he gave in return was tight and a little nervous. Although he was glad that the preacher had stayed with them, he didn't feel entirely comfortable around the man. He suspected that had something to do with his lack of faith. Every Sunday, he showed up for the service and appeared to be generally agreeable with everything the man said, but in truth, he didn't give the whole religion business much thought. Whether or not there was a God didn't seem applicable to him. He had no particular objection to religion; he just had no feelings about it at all.
“For sure, Preacher,” he replied, nodding.
“I'll be praying for safe travels tomorrow. I hope you'll join us tonight.”
The preacher had been having nightly meetings to read the Bible, pray, and generally encourage the travelers. Many of them showed up every night, and more had joined as the trip had progressed, but Tom was never one of them.
“Uh, well, I have to set up the watch schedule and check the animals and so forth. I'll see if I can stop by for a bit, though.”
Preacher Riley gave him a steady look. “It would be good for people to see you there, Captain. Please consider it.”
The man had never extended the invitation so forcefully before, and Tom felt he had no choice but to accept.
“Alright, Preacher. I'll see you there.”
Walking away from that meeting, Tom felt a little shaken. He didn't feel scolded exactly, but something very close to that. Part of him wanted to rebel, but then he considered what Captain Holt would do. His mentor would have attended, and in fact, had attended every meeting, even though the man had only recently been convicted of his beliefs. So he would do the same. Maybe he wouldn't go every single night, but he realized the preacher was right. Most of the people on the train were God-fearing folks, and it would make them feel secure to think that he was as well. It wasn’t a deception so long as he didn’t profess anything untrue with his mouth. Attendance didn’t equal acceptance.
Blowing out a long sigh, he observed the last wagon he had to visit, the one that belonged to Eugene Howard. Or rather, it had belonged to him. Captain Holt had taken the man with him to Fort Boise for the authority figures to deal with. His reckless behavior, shooting at some natives who had merely crossed their path, had caused the rockslide that had injured a number of people, not the least of whom were two members of his very large family.
How would the remaining seven members survive with their mother bedridden and the oldest child barely able to hobble along? Of course, the preacher's wife and the doctor's wife had helped out a lot, but would it be enough?
A surge of overwhelming trepidation welled up in his chest. He was responsible for all the people in this train now, and that included the weak and the sick. It would fall to him to ensure their well-being. Was he truly up to the task?
“Good morning, Lily,” he greeted the girl, who was cleaning up the breakfast items. He forced a cheery smile, determined not to let his worry show. “Did you hear that we're moving out tomorrow?”
She wasn't really a girl, but a grown woman of nineteen. However, her slight form made her seem younger. He watched as she pulled her bonnet forward a little, an attempt to cover the injury that she'd sustained in the rockslide.
“I did,” she murmured back. “But thank you for stopping by to tell us.”
It was a shame, Tom thought. The girl had been so pretty before, but the angry red mark was disfiguring and probably wouldn’t completely fade. It started at her left temple and went nearly straight down to her chin. No amount of tugging on the bonnet would cover it. Perhaps if she wore her hair differently...
He gave his head a little shake. Why did he care about that? It was none of his concern. Where they were going, men were plenty and women were scarce. He was sure that she would find a husband regardless of the scar.
“You feel well enough to travel?” he asked courteously. “The doctor said so, but it's good to hear it directly.”
Lily hesitated a little. “I can walk without too much difficulty,” she replied. “I'm just worried about Mama. She's still in a lot of pain.”
Tom nodded. “She's lucky she didn't lose her leg, though. That one Indian did some fast thinking.”
He was referring to one of the braves who had stopped to help them, even after being shot at. It was a tremendous lesson for the whole group. Even though they needed to be on their guard, they shouldn't assume anything about the people who lived on this land.
“Yes, lucky,” she mumbled back, but her face clouded. It was likely that she was thinking about how her father had been the cause of this trouble and didn't think they were lucky at all.
“Well, I'll be checking in on you from time to time tomorrow. You'll let me know if we're going too fast, right?”
She nodded, her face bent with the left side turned away. Pity coursed through him. From the right, she was perfectly lovely. He nearly shook his head in dismay, but he knew from experience that a person who was down on their luck didn't enjoy being pitied.
“Alright then. As I told the others, we don’t need to head out at seven. Eight is early enough for our first day.”
Walking away, he headed back to his own wagon and took out his journal. He wasn’t much for writing, but he liked to draw. He’d barely made it through grade school, but his teachers had always praised his sketches.
Now his hand raced to capture the combination of beauty and sorrow that he’d witnessed in Lily Howard. When he was done, he felt his heart twinge with…something. Initially, he figured it was sympathy or something of the like, but on second thought, he realized it was admiration. Lily was, at not even twenty, the head of her large family, a burden for sure, but he’d never heard her complain. She didn’t look happy, but he could see that she was determined.
Grit was something he understood very well. He’d been forced into a lifestyle that had required
quite a lot of it, and he suddenly felt a bond with this young girl.
He would do all he could to help her. She deserved it.
Lily watched the handsome captain leave, her face screwed up in agony. Near the beginning of the trip, she'd tried to find moments to speak with him, but her father had always been there, so she barely had time to say anything more than hello or ask how he was doing. Now, with her father being brought to Fort Boise and her mother bedridden, she had ample time to converse with him, but she no longer had the same burning desire.
Part of the problem was that she no longer the person she'd been when they first started out. The past four months had been hard on their family because of their father's short temper and stubborn ways. He'd been hard enough to live with back in Missouri, but once they were on the trip, he was nearly unbearable.
Day after day, he'd complained about anything and everything. Her mother had borne the brunt of his miserable attitude, but he'd bark at the children whenever they misbehaved even the slightest bit. She'd also had to endure his wrath nearly daily. He would accuse her of wanton behavior if she so much as looked in the general direction of a man.
Then last week, his suspicious and aggressive mindset had caused him to believe that an approaching band of natives were set on killing them, so he'd grabbed his gun and started firing. Thankfully, Henry Morris had tackled him and prevented any of his shots from finding their mark, but the bullet had hit the side of the canyon and caused a slide.
She raised her hand to her face and grimaced. The small mirror they'd brought with them told her everything she needed to know. She was hideous. No man would ever want her, let alone a fine-looking man like Tom Rutger.
“Lily?” a weak voice called from inside the wagon. “Who were you talking to?”
Her mother wasn't asking to be demanding or invasive. She probably just wanted company. Lily finished piling up the dishes and pulled back the covering of the wagon.
“It was Captain Rutger,” she answered, trying to smile. Her mother's injuries far exceeded her own, so she put on a cheerful expression in order to help lift her spirits. She'd heard that a happy person recovers faster, so she would do everything in her power to bring a smile to her mother's face.
“What did you talk about, dearest?” she asked weakly, trying to lift her head.
“Oh, he said that we're going to start out again tomorrow, but don't worry. He'll check on us and make sure that the train isn't going too fast for you.”
“What a good man,” she replied softly, her head falling back onto the thin pillow. “So considerate. You know, I thought perhaps that you and he might...” Her sentence trailed off. “But I guess his heart is set on conducting the wagon train for many years. Your father talked to him about it. He's very keen to build a good business.”
Sighing deeply, she put her forearm across her eyes, possibly in an attempt to shield them from the light that Lily knew gave her a headache.
“He was never interested in me,” Lily replied softly. “And even less so now.”
Her mother lifted her arm slightly to peer at her. “What do you mean, daughter?”
Lily refused to cause her mother further grief with self-pity. Instead, she clambered up into the wagon and to hang a blanket along the side where the sun was shining in. If she could make it a little darker, perhaps her mother would enjoy a reprieve from the pain.
“Oh, well, you know. He's the captain now and has so many duties to occupy him. He can't be thinking about romance or anything like that.”
Her mother blinked a few times, then nodded slightly. “You're right of course. I thought you were going to say...”
Lily pressed her lips together and asked, “Is that any better? I've managed to block out some light.”
Constance Howard lifted a hand. Holding it lightly, Lily knelt beside her.
“You are still a beautiful woman,” she whispered. “And one day, you'll make some very lucky man tremendously happy. You know that, don't you?”
Even though she wished to keep her bitterness to herself, her mother's kind words burst a dam inside of her.
“Oh, Mother,” she sobbed. “I don't think so. Have you looked at me? I mean, really looked? I'm not beautiful, Mother! I'm not even pretty. And every day, I have to look at myself and remember that my father caused all this. He disfigured me and maimed you!”
Misery overwhelmed her, and she cried in earnest, covering her face with her hands. Hot tears seeped though her fingers and ran down her wrists.
Her mother didn't say a word, but merely rested a hand on her daughter's leg. When the sobs had subsided, Lily fished a handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe her face.
“I'm sorry, Mother,” she whispered. “I know your situation is much worse than mine, but I get so upset when I think about...”
Constance patted her daughter's knee.
“Everything happens for a reason, dear girl. I know it's hard to see it now, but God still has a good plan for your life.”
Lily sniffed and shook her head. “No, I don't think so. What kind of life can I have now?” In her mind, she could see the rest of her days laid out ahead of her. She would work alongside her mother, if she recovered, in order to take care of the younger ones. She only hoped that the two of them could manage a small farm by themselves. There was no indication of how long her father would be incarcerated. And if he was let go, that would be much worse, in her opinion.
Either way, by the time the youngest was grown, she would be well into her thirties. What man would want her then? She raised her hand to the left side of her face. What man would even want her now? If her father hadn’t taken out his gun, maybe some man in the West would have looked her way. Maybe even Captain Rutger…
“How could you marry him, Mother?” she blurted without thinking. “Couldn't you see what kind of man he is?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them, but of course she couldn't pull them back.
Constance sighed and pulled her hand back, folding both over her chest and looking up at the wagon ceiling.
“You won't believe me, but he was a very different man when I met him. He was kind, considerate, and gentle.”
That didn't sound anything like the man she'd known for the past nineteen years. Even in his less volatile moods, he was mostly just tolerant or withdrawn, but her mother had never lied to her.
“When did he change?” she asked softly.
However, her mother shook her head.
“I can't talk about it, dear. I'm sorry. But please know that underneath that hard exterior, there is a man who loves you and wants the best for you. It might not seem like it, but everything he does is to protect us.”
Thinking that her mother was a little delusional from the heat or her illness, Lily just let her talk. There was no way she was going to say anything to upset her after everything she'd been through.
“Would you like some water?” she asked. “Or more of that tonic the doctor gave you? You've hardly had any of it.”
Doctor Taylor had given her a small bottle of medicine to help with the pain, but her mother didn't want to take it.
“You can give that to someone else who needs it more,” she murmured, putting her arm over her eyes once again. “I think I'd like to sleep now, darling girl. You'll see to the boys?”
She didn't need to ask, as Lily had been doing that since the accident. Mostly, her five brothers entertained each other and stayed out of trouble, although they had been pushing a lot of boundaries over the past few days. She suspected that their father's absence accounted for that. He’d been even more strict with the boys, always expecting them to be quiet and orderly. Lily was a little grateful for that because for the first few days after the rockslide, they'd just stayed near the wagon and played quietly. Now they had gotten braver and went down to the river, throwing rocks and making up noisy games. She didn’t fret too much because the oldest was seventeen and kept a close watch on the others.
Still, it wa
s good to see them behaving more like normal boys. The preacher's sons often joined them and the seven of them played together very well. Until the previous week, the Taylor boys had kept to themselves. She knew that had everything to do with their father, and now that he was gone, it seemed like they'd been released from a kind of prison.
She hoped it would last.
2
The first day of traveling was very slow going, but Tom knew that it would be before they’d started out. However, he was still disappointed when they traveled less than four miles. He knew that because he didn't see the marker that Jeremiah had set out, and he was certain they were going the right way. There wasn't really any other option. They followed the Snake River the whole way, but the trail was rough, so they didn't make good time. Not only that, but every time he circled the train to check on the injured people, it was clear that they were having a hard time. By three o'clock, he was ready to stop.
“There's still a lot of daylight left,” remarked Henry, the oldest of the Morris brothers. “Are you sure we need to stop?”
Although he was fairly certain the man wasn't trying to make him feel inadequate, the question pricked his pride.
“I don't want to risk the health of the weaker people,” he returned calmly. “It wouldn’t be smart to keep going if people are having a hard time.”
Although he was only one year older than Henry, he wanted the other man to recognize his authority, so he tried to sound professional and authoritative. It seemed to work. Henry nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, you're right. We still have enough food to last a few weeks. No sense rushing and losing folks.”
The change in the man's temperament was noticeable. A few weeks ago, he'd been headstrong and sullen, but he was now agreeable and pleasant. Tom suspected that two or three things accounted for the change. One was the company of Margie Taylor, the doctor's oldest daughter, another was the nightly meetings at the preacher's campsite, and then there was the decision not to go south in search of gold, but rather to stay with his brothers and head onto Oregon.