Hannah's Hanky (Clover Creek Caravan Book 1)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  When she had spoken to them, she turned and ran from the camp, crying hysterically. She must have run a mile, and this from a woman who tells me her feet ache on a daily basis. She had a day when she didn’t have to walk the trail, and instead she ran a mile back before sinking to her knees and sobbing hysterically. She has been unable to speak since that moment.

  I do not know how to help her, and I have prayed and prayed. I have been up all night trying to think of what I could do to take the burden of her sorrow from her. I cannot come up with a solution. I pray God tells me what to do for her, so I can continue to have my bride on my side.

  I am afraid she will find her voice again and beg for me to take her back to Independence. I would not want to, but I would do it and stay there with her if need be. She is a great deal more important to me than free land in Oregon.

  I pray it won’t come to that.

  Hannah was still in a daze most of the next day. Thankfully Mary took the children who usually walked with her under her wing and watched out for them. She kept trying to talk to Hannah, but Hannah didn’t find herself capable of doing anything more than going through the motions of their journey. She made breakfast, walked, ate lunch, but forgot to take Jed his lunch, and she fixed supper.

  She did everything she knew she had to do, but she did nothing more. She didn’t speak to anyone, and she didn’t know if she would be able to anytime soon.

  When Jed came to her at supper, he spoke to her using a soft voice, and tried to get her to talk to him. She looked at him, and she opened her mouth, but no words came out, and the tears came back into her eyes.

  She made extra supper again, thanks to the buffalo he’d killed the day before, and he took the extra over to the Hendersons. When he returned, he told her they needed to go for a walk so they could talk, and she simply nodded, willing to agree to anything. There was nothing left inside her but sorrow, so it was easy to go along with him.

  As they walked, he tried again to speak to her. “Hannah, I’m getting really worried about you. Are you feeling ill?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you angry with me for something?”

  Hannah again shook her head, more emphatically this time.

  “I need to know what’s happening. Why have you stopped speaking?”

  She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but the words seemed to catch in her throat, and she was unable to force them out, even after putting a hand to her neck and trying to force them out of her mouth.

  He took a deep breath. “Are you willing to continue toward Oregon?”

  She stopped walking and looked at him for a moment. She didn’t know if she was willing to keep going. Did he want to take her back to Independence? Was she too defective to continue along the trail?

  “Do you want to go back to Independence and live with your parents?” he asked, hoping she would be able to respond to something.

  She shook her head.

  “Do you want to go back to Independence to live with me?”

  She wasn’t sure how to answer that question either. She put her hands in the air, face up, to express that she just didn’t know. On one hand, she wanted to run away from the trials and death that came with life on the Trail. On the other, she wanted to continue on with him, to prove to herself she could do it.

  When they got back to camp, Jed went to fetch the doctor, determined that a cure for her would be found, whatever it was that was wrong. When the doctor approached Hannah, she waved him away, but Jed refused to let him leave.

  “She hasn’t spoken since yesterday afternoon. I’ve seen her open her mouth and try to speak, but nothing comes out. You have to find out what’s wrong with her.”

  The doctor frowned, but he put a hand on either side of her throat. “Open your mouth.”

  Hannah did everything she was told to do.

  “I can’t find anything wrong with her.” Dr. Bentley frowned at Hannah. “Hannah, why won’t you speak?”

  Hannah immediately started crying again. She couldn’t explain her deep sorrow at the other woman’s death. She didn’t know how to explain, but she knew that Jed wasn’t going to rest until he knew.

  Instead of trying to speak again, Hannah let the men talk, and she walked to her journal and wrote.

  I’m not sure why I’m so upset at the passing of Mrs. Henderson, because I barely knew her. I was fine until I looked into the eyes of those precious children, and I thought about them never having a mother. I thought about the wagon wheels going over her grave, and I even understand the reasoning behind it, but I can’t help that it shattered my heart when it happened.

  I think about her grave, devoid of headstone, and I think about those children who all loved their mother dearly who will now spend the rest of their lives wondering if she would have been proud of the things they do. They’ll wonder if she would have been happy with their choice of a woman or man to marry. They’ll wonder if she’d have been proud of their professions and their avocations.

  Those children lost part of themselves yesterday, and it was a big important part of themselves, and I mourn for them. I mourn for myself because I lost my father in an instant, just as they lost their mother.

  I mourn for myself because I will never again see my mother to know if she’s proud of me. I will never again visit the headstone of the father who was one of the most important people in my life, and whom I miss dearly. I miss him every day. I miss him every hour.

  Since I’ve met you, I’ve often forgotten to miss him though. He hasn’t been on my mind as much as he once was, and I feel like I’m forsaking that memory. I looked into those children’s eyes, and I knew they were just like me. I wanted to take their pain from them, but the very thought of their pain was too much for me to bear.

  Yesterday changed four lives in a way that can never be mended. I want to mend those lives, but she’s twenty miles behind us on the trail, and her body will remain there forever, even as her heart travels with her children.

  I try to talk, but the sorrow is so overwhelming that the words will not move past my throat. I do not mourn for Mrs. Henderson. I mourn for her children and the mother they have lost.

  Yesterday those three darling children woke up to a mother who made their breakfast, washed their clothes, and fixed their lunch. She was dead before she had a chance to fix their supper. I mourn for them. I mourn for my father, but mostly I mourn for myself.

  Please give me time to do what needs to be done, and to get myself back to where I need to be. Only time can heal the deep sorrow that has washed over me. I will do what I need to do in the meantime, but I may not be able to speak.

  When she’d finished writing the passage in her journal, she carried it to her husband, and showed him where to start reading. The doctor had already left, which pleased her, because she didn’t want him checking on her. She wasn’t sick. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces. And that was entirely different.

  Jed carefully read everything that Hannah had written, and when he was finished, he felt he finally understood. “You feel guilty for leaving your father’s grave, and it’s bringing back his death all over again.”

  Hannah nodded emphatically, and took the journal back, thinking there was one more thing she could write that would help him understand.

  I wonder if us being on the trail helped contribute to her death. If there hadn’t been a pastor on the trail, would she have still gone? And would she have died? Is the trail just a long march to our deaths? Will we come out alive and if we don’t, what will become of the children I know we are meant to have?

  Jed read the last of what she wrote, and nodded. “Let’s go in the tent and talk.” It wouldn’t keep people from being able to hear them, but it would keep them from seeing her. “I don’t think we have any responsibility in the death of Mrs. Henderson. She made her choices. Even if the choice was out of her hands, and her husband ordered her to follow him, she made the decision to do as she was told, and the responsibility
ultimately lies with her.”

  Hannah nodded. What he’d said made sense to her.

  “We are not on a death march. I do know people who have made it safely to Oregon, and those people live there happily now that they’ve arrived. Even Captain Bedwell has been there and says we need to go. I think we will not be giving God everything we should give him if we don’t make the trip. I can minister there in a way I truly can’t in the east. I can do His work in a way that I’ve always dreamed of doing. Do you believe that’s a good reason to endure hardship? For our God?”

  Hannah nodded. She did believe so. But did that mean they wouldn’t be culpable if they were meant to have children and they didn’t?

  “Then what we need to do is put our future and our children’s future into God’s hands. We cannot give him our worries and our fears and constantly take them back from him when we want to. We need to place them entirely in his hands forever.” Jed took Hannah’s hands in his own. “I know this has been a hard two weeks, and there will be many more hardships on the trail. I won’t lie to you about that. This trail is one of blood and many tears, but I believe this is the way God wants us to go. So, I will go there. Do you want to go with me?”

  Her eyes were filled with tears as she nodded. “I want to go.”

  At the sound of her voice—even though it was filled with tears—he felt something break inside him. Pulling her close he held her and stroked her hair. “I have been so worried about you, Hannah.” He was so relieved to hear her speak, even though he knew she was still suffering.

  She sniffled, feeling the torrent of tears coming again, but she knew she would be able to function again. She could speak, and she would continue doing so. Maybe she couldn’t do it for herself, or even for the Henderson children. But she could do it for her Jed and for her God.

  Settling down into their makeshift bed, Jed pulled her against him and held her, continually stroking her as she wept herself out. His touch had no sexual quality to it. He was a man who was doing everything he could to sooth the woman he loved beyond belief. And as soon as she was ready to hear it, he would tell her how very much he loved her, and he prayed she would say the words back to him.

  Never in his life had he imagined he would fall in love with a woman as he had with Hannah. She completed him as no other woman really could. He wanted to kick himself for putting her through the sorrow she was experiencing, but he knew her place was there with him. And what’s more, he knew she knew her place was there with him as well.

  On Wednesday of that week, Mary and one of the men were able to get four antelope, which was more than enough to feed their entire wagon train. Hannah fixed meals for her and Jed and the Henderson family, who had started walking with her for the past two days.

  When she’d finished the meal, she gave the Hendersons’ portion to Jed, and he carried it to their wagon, which had begun parking on the other side of Margaret’s wagon, because it was easier for Hannah to deal with the children and get meals to them.

  When Jed returned to camp, he took his plate and Hannah’s and told her to grab a blanket, because they were having a picnic dinner. She had no idea why he wanted to have a picnic when to her, every meal she’d ever eaten with him, save two that had happened at her mother’s house, had been picnics.

  She grabbed the blanket and followed him though, and he stopped at a spot under a tree, and she spread the blanket as he wanted. She sat down and took both plates so he could sit on the blanket as well.

  She wasn’t paying attention as he went to sit, and he sat down and handed her a bouquet of wildflowers. “Oh, Jed. They’re lovely. Thank you!” He’d never given her flowers, but he’d never really had the opportunity to do so.

  “Do you think those flowers are any less pretty because they aren’t roses?” he asked.

  “Of course not. That makes no sense.”

  “Well, what if I said there are women who are roses, and yes they’re beautiful, but they’re not always the flower that attracts you the most. What if I said a wildflower is a great deal prettier to me than a rose?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see that being a problem.” She had no idea what he was trying to say to her.

  “To me, you’re a wildflower, Hannah. You’re not a rose like many of the women in the east think they are. You’re a woman who has a unique beauty all your own. You are the most beautiful of women to me. Because you look different. Because your inner beauty shines in everything you do. The past few days have been very hard for you, but you never once failed to make a meal. You never once failed to cook for a family that just lost its mother. You’re a beautiful woman, because what you do makes you beautiful.”

  She sat for a moment thinking about what he’d said. “So, when you tell me I’m beautiful, you really aren’t lying?”

  He shook his head. “I would never lie to you, Hannah. Your inner beauty is something like I’ve never seen before. I love the inside of you and the outside of you.”

  She slowly nodded, smiling. “I love you too, Jed. I love you so much! I’m sorry I wasn’t really communicating with you when I got so upset, but I needed time to work through exactly what I was feeling. Now that I’ve taken that time, I know I’m where I need to be. On the trail to Oregon with you at my side.”

  Jed smiled. “I’m glad. I told myself that if you needed to go back to Independence to be able to smile again, then I would take you back to Independence. I would live there with you for the rest of my days if that’s what you needed to be happy.”

  “It’s not what I want. I needed to come to understand that no matter where you are, and no matter what you do, if you are doing your best to follow God’s Word, then you are doing the right thing. We are doing the right thing. God will bless us for that.”

  “I agree with you.” He took a bite of his supper, and smiled. “Wonderful supper as always. It’s hard to believe it was less than three weeks ago that I first laid eyes on you, and you were convinced you would never be able to cook over a campfire. Look at you now!”

  She laughed. “I had Mary and Margaret to help me. They are wonderful people, you know.”

  “I do know that. They’ve helped you in a way I never imagined when I first met you. Now you can shoot a musket, and you can skin a rabbit like it’s nothing. And the kittens! They’ve grown so much, and you’ve managed to train them to follow along with you.”

  “I don’t know that I trained them. They just know I’ll feed them, so they keep following.”

  He smiled. “Well, either way they follow us. We’re not going to have any mice problems when we get to Oregon, you know.”

  Hannah nodded emphatically. “I do know that. No mouse problems. No bird problems. I think if they worked as a team, they could take down a squirrel. Or even a buffalo!”

  “I think the buffalo might be out of the question for them,” he said with a smile.

  “You’re wrong. If I could keep going after how I felt on Sunday, then those two kittens can take down a buffalo.”

  “You know we’re going to have dozens of children, and someday, they’re going to read those journals we keep scribbling in, right?”

  “Do you think they’ll ever make a game about the Oregon Trail? Where everyone dies of dysentery?”

  “They might,” Jed said, looking at her strangely. “But it would make more sense if the game had them dying of cholera. Dysentery isn’t nearly the killer on the trail that cholera is.”

  “I guess so. Still, in a hundred years or so, they may think that dysentery is the killer.”

  “Maybe so.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly. “I just hope in a hundred or even two hundred years, people realize that the people on the Oregon Trail were real people, who went through hardships to get where they were going.”

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