Home's Promise (Oregon Trail)

by Mildred Colvin

  Tommy tried to hold on, but air claimed him for one hard pound of his heart until the earth smacked his body with a jolt that stole his breath. Frozen in time, he saw the backside of Midnight as he disappeared into the blackness with the snarling wolf snapping at his hooves.

  Tommy lay on the ground where he’d fallen unable to move. Rain beat against his face, trailing mud into his hair and shirt. He breathed in. And out. He lifted one arm then another. Next he flexed his toes and moved each leg. He gingerly touched his side. Nothing seemed to be broken, but from the aches in his body, he might as well count on numerous bruises. He rose to a sitting position and looked around.

  He’d never felt so alone. Midnight would lead the wolf on a merry chase. His laugh sounded loud in the silent, dark evening. The wolf would never catch up. Few animals could match Midnight’s speed even when he wasn’t frightened out of his mind.

  The thought of the wolf giving up the chase and coming back for easier prey brought Tommy to his feet. There could be other wolves, too. They normally ran in packs. He was still several miles from town. He couldn’t walk far in this weather, and he couldn’t stay out in the open. He needed to find shelter for the night. Maybe Midnight would come to his senses before morning and return.

  He’d seen a cabin just off the road when he passed earlier on his way to the Indian village. “Father God, I give praise for Your protection. You are with me and I trust Your guidance. Lead me to help. Keep Midnight safe from danger and bring him back to me. I pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  He headed toward where he thought the cabin should be as the blackness of the rainy night closed in on him. Before long, he barely made out shapes of bushes and trees as he picked his way over rocks and fallen logs. He stumbled and walked forever, it seemed. Should he turn in another direction?

  “Lord, guide me. I need Your direc— Ow!” He stumbled to a stop, his shin stinging from the sharp blow. He’d bumped into something. A low flat dark shape took form before him. He tapped the object with his boot. Touched it with his hand. Hmm, a rough-hewn log. Maybe a wash table. He chuckled under his breath. God had answered even before he’d finished his prayer. The cabin must be close.

  He turned, scanning the dim skyline until the bulky outline of a small building stood out against the dark sky. His heart beat quickly in the silent night as his hand touched the smooth wood of the door. It had to be the cabin.

  Tommy knocked. No answer. He knocked again, harder. Still no answer. He ran his hand down the wood and lifted the latch. The door swung open.

  His eyes were drawn to a faint glow coming from the fireplace. “Hello. Anyone home?” Tommy’s voice seemed to return for his ears alone as an eerie silence surrounded him.

  He pulled matches from his pocket and lit one. In the sudden flare of light, he saw a candle and matches on a shelf beside the door. Thank You, Lord. He grabbed them up when his match burned out. As he held the flare of a second match against the candle, a welcome, soft light radiated into the room.

  A rough wooden table stood in the center of the one-room cabin with two straight-backed chairs pushed under it. The floor looked clean—freshly swept. A variety of tools were stacked in the corner to his left. A pile of furs took up most of the far corner. A trapper’s cabin? But where was he? Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind sharing his cabin for one night.

  On the other side of the room he found a low bed against the wall. At first glance, it appeared empty with several skins thrown haphazardly across it. As his eyes focused, a slight rise under the covers told him he was not alone.

  “Hello, there.” He held the candle to the side. “I didn’t mean to intrude. My horse threw me.”

  No response. Tommy took a step forward holding the candle out. Black hair in two long braids on either side of a dusky face lay on the pillow. A young Indian woman lay sleeping.

  Tommy paused, uncertain. She appeared to be alone. He was miles from any other shelter, and it might be hours before Midnight returned if he returned at all. The thought of going back out in to the now steady rain urged him forward.

  “Ma’am, I hate to bother you this way. I mean you no harm.”

  Still no response. He stepped beside the bed and shook her shoulder. “Ma’am, please wake up.” He raised his voice. “Ma’am.”

  A chill crept up his spine. Something was wrong. He touched her forehead. Cold. Too cold. He felt for the pulse in her neck. Nothing. His heart sank.

  A bit of dark hair near her shoulder caught his attention. He pulled the cover back, revealing a tiny, naked baby. He’d probably lived only a short time after his birth.

  Tommy sighed. Sadness for the unknown mother and baby filled his heart. And the trapper. He obviously was away and didn’t know his family was gone.

  Tommy looked around the room. This was surely a white man’s cabin. But where was he? His gaze came back to the bed. He would have to bury them. Another sigh escaped as he got a shovel from the corner.

  When the task was finally done, Tommy stood under the weeping sky and quoted the 23rd Psalm. He prayed a short prayer before returning to the cabin.

  Bone weary and bruised from his fall, his muscles ached from digging the grave. He looked at the bed, now empty, and turned away. He’d make a pallet on the floor from some of the furs stacked in the corner. He pulled the top fur from the stack and spread it on the floor. It would take several to make a spot long enough for his six-foot frame. He pulled the skins from the pile one by one and laid them out. One more should do it. He returned to the diminished stack.

  Just as his hand touched the fur, he saw movement behind the furs. He jerked back, stifling an exclamation. What had he seen? An animal? Hadn’t he been through enough tonight? If he didn’t roust it out, he’d have to share his bed with a critter.

  He watched the corner and tensed to spring away as he grabbed a handful of furs from the pile and threw them to the side. What on earth? The corner was dark. He blinked. Surely he was seeing things. A swipe across his eyes convinced him he wasn’t.

  Chapter 16

  Two large dark eyes stared at Tommy. A small face, framed by shoulder-length braids, crumpled as first one then another silent tear tracked down her cheeks.

  “A little girl.” Tommy whispered.

  He held out his hands, but she shrank into the corner. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

  She continued to cry without a sound.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She stared at him.

  If only Rachel were here, she’d know what to do. He sighed and turned from the longing in his heart.

  “Come on. Let’s see if we can find something to eat.” Tommy moved away and soon found dried corn, sweet potatoes, and an uncut loaf of bread. He could cut them each a slice of bread so he wouldn’t have to build a fire. He glanced at the fireplace. The cabin was chilly and damp. He needed to dry out, and the little girl might be cold. Besides, he was hungry. He found a lantern on the table and lit it with the stub of his candle. Soft light filled the room.

  The half-burned log in the fireplace gave off little warmth, but would make building the fire up easier. He stirred the coals and laid kindling on them followed by larger sticks of wood. A fire soon blazed and the cabin gradually warmed.

  “Did I tell you my name’s Tommy?” He looked over his shoulder at the corner. The child shrank back. “Yep, Tommy Donovan. I’ve been to the Indian village not far from here. Have you ever been there?”

  Was that a small shake of her head? He couldn’t be sure. How did one go about getting a small Indian girl of who-knew-what age to trust him? He had no ideas. He needed to figure out something, though. What would Rachel do? Offer her food? Probably.

  Tommy found a small iron kettle and poured in some water from the drinking bucket. He cut the sweet potato into small pieces so it would cook faster. “Do you like sweet potatoes?” He glanced toward the little girl.

  She nodded and rubbed her eyes. Ah, her hunger was likely stronger than her fear. At least
her tears had stopped. He felt her attentive gaze as he hung the kettle on the hook over the fire. He walked back to the table where he’d set the loaf of bread.

  “How about a slice of bread while we wait for our potatoes?”

  Again she nodded.

  Tommy pulled out a chair. “Why don’t you come over here and eat with me?”

  Her large eyes seemed to follow his every move, but she didn’t budge from her hiding place.

  He pulled out the other chair and sat in it. “Come on. I’ll sit over here across the table and we’ll eat.”

  Tommy held his breath when she climbed over the pelts. She was so tiny. No more than a couple of years old probably. He shook his head. Poor little baby. Where was her father?

  Her large, dark eyes stayed on him as she toddled across the room. She put both hands on the seat of the chair and climbed up. Her face came barely above the table top. She stared at Tommy with no expression.

  He smiled. “Let’s thank Jesus for the food, okay?” After a short prayer, Tommy lifted his eyes to find her still watching him.

  Even as she took the offered bread, her gaze never wavered from his face. She took tiny bites and chewed until the slice was gone. Her hand reached out, palm up. “Moe.”

  He stifled a laugh. She was starting to trust him. “You want more?”

  She nodded. “Moe.”

  Tommy cut another slice. “I hope you have room for the sweet potatoes, too. They should be about done.” He handed her the bread and went to the fireplace.

  “How about a potato to go with that bread?” He found a couple of tin plates and divided the sweet potatoes between them. “Here you go.”

  He cleaned his plate of both sweet potatoes and bread and felt satisfied. A slow smile crept across his face as he looked at the little girl. Her table manners were amazingly grown-up for a child so small. No crumb fell from her hand and her face stayed clean. Her smooth olive complexion and shiny dark hair above large dark eyes made her a beautiful child.

  She put the last bite of sweet potato in her mouth. Again, her hand reached out. “Moe.”

  “More?” He laughed. Rachel would love this little girl if she could see her. “How long’s it been since you had anything to eat?” He cut a small slice of bread and laid it on her plate. “That’s your third slice. You eat it and you’ll have eaten more than I did.”

  She picked up the bread and again a tiny bite went into her mouth. Tommy watched her finish the last crumb. The child must have been starving. “I think you’ve had enough, and I know I have. I’m bushed. Can we go to sleep now?”

  “Feep.” Her head nodded. “Mama.”

  Tommy’s heart sank. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with that. Where was her father? Maybe she could tell him something.

  “Mama’s gone. Where’s Papa?”

  “Papa go bye-bye.” She nodded, causing her short braids to swing.

  “Where did Papa go? Did he go to get more furs?”

  “Papa go.” She pointed toward the door.

  Tommy stood and stretched. He was too tired to try to get sense from a baby. Even as smart as this one seemed to be, she couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. “Let’s get some sleep.” He pointed to the furs on the floor. “Do you want to sleep here by me?”

  She shook her head. “Mama.” She pointed at the bed and scooted from her chair. Before Tommy knew what she was doing, she ran to the door, opened it and stepped outside in the rain.

  “Hey, wait a minute. You can’t go out there.” Tommy ran to the door and pushed it open. His face flushed as he realized her intentions. “For such a little thing, you certainly know how to take care of yourself, don’t you?” He turned from the door and stripped the bed, putting fresh fur on it and adding one for a cover.

  When she came back inside, she crawled onto the bed, burrowed under the cover, and went promptly to sleep.

  Tommy smiled when he realized how quickly she’d trusted him. Of course, she’d had little choice at her size. She was barely more than a baby. Would he and Rachel have children some day? In the lamplight, this child’s coloring wasn’t any darker than Rachel’s. If her father didn’t come back and she needed a home, she might pass as their child. But he wanted Rachel to have his children. His heart lurched at the thought of Rachel growing with his baby. Feeding and caring for him or her. Showering her mother-love on their children. As tired as he was, Tommy’s mind, active with thoughts of and longing for the woman he loved, kept him awake longer than his body needed.

  ~*~

  Tommy woke the next morning to Midnight’s welcome nicker. He sat up running his fingers through his hair. He rolled his shoulders backward, then forward, his muscles and joints crying out in protest. Looking around the cabin in the dim light of early morning, his eyes rested on the small child sleeping across the room. He remembered the rain and the grave. No wonder he felt so sore.

  With Midnight outside, he’d have no trouble getting home. But he couldn’t go off and leave the child here alone to fend for herself. Her father might return any minute or he might not come for days or weeks. There was no way of knowing.

  He slipped out the door into a morning that promised sunshine and blue skies for a welcome change. Midnight trotted to his side at his call. Tommy ran his hand down his horse’s neck before inspecting each leg. There seemed to be no injury—no scratches or sore spots.

  “You gave that wolf a good chase, didn’t you, boy?” Tommy chuckled and gently patted Midnight’s nose. “God must’ve sent that critter so we’d stop. We’ve got a little sweetheart inside that needs taking care of.”

  Hunger pangs hit his stomach, and he figured the little girl would be hungry, too, when she woke up. He found grain in an outbuilding for Midnight then went inside. Dirty dishes sat on the table where he’d left them. He’d been too tired to wash them last night and now dreaded the job.

  After the dishes were washed, Tommy looked for food. A slab of bacon and the left over bread was all he found. He squatted in front of the fireplace to fry the meat when he heard the cabin door open. He swung toward the sound in time to see a little brown buckskin-clad figure slip outside. He shook his head and grinned as he turned to the bacon.

  Tommy smiled at the child when she came inside. “Are you ready to eat?”

  She stood in the doorway and looked around. A small fist rubbed her eye as she ducked her head. “Mama. Want Mama.”

  Sympathy rose in Tommy’s chest for the baby that stood before him. How could he explain to her that her mama was gone and would never return? He set the bacon down and crossed the room to pick her up.

  She felt so tiny, so light, yet she was a real person with feelings that he would crush when he showed her the grave he dug the night before. If she even understood what a grave was.

  He held her close. “Mama’s gone.”

  The small head shook as her big, brown eyes looked into his. “No. Want mine Mama.” Two big tears crept from her eyes before running down her cheeks.

  She made no sound, holding herself stiff in his arms and allowing the tears to flow unchecked.

  Admiration for the tiny, independent child and sympathy for her loss mingled in Tommy's heart. He patted her back. “Mama can’t come. Do you want to see where Mama is?”

  He hated what he was about to do, but couldn’t think of any other way to help her deal with the fact that her mother would not return. At her nod, he carried her out the door and around the side of the cabin to the grave where he’d laid her mother and little brother.

  “Mama is here.” He held her tight for a moment. “Mama has gone to meet Jesus.” He hoped she had been taught about God. “Her body is sleeping here.”

  The little girl squirmed in his arms. “Mama. Mine Mama.” She pushed against him until he let her down. To his surprise, she ran past her mother’s grave to the backyard. If only the father would come. Then she would no longer be his responsibility. He hurried after her.

  When she continued past the ca
bin, Tommy scooped her up and held her. “It’ll be all right. You still have your papa. If we only knew where he is, we could go get him.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped tears from her face. “Where is Papa?”

  “Papa?” Again, she squirmed to be let down.

  “Yes, where did your papa go?” Frustration mounted as Tommy struggled to communicate with her.

  A small finger pointed back of the house. “Papa.”

  Tommy swung around, expecting to see a horse and rider or a man walking toward them. Empty grassland from the house to a small grove of trees met his gaze. Tommy turned back to the child, shaking his head. “No, Papa isn’t there.”

  Her small dark head nodded and she squirmed more. “Papa there.”

  She seemed so sure of herself. Tommy could almost believe her Papa would appear. But he couldn’t see anyone. He set her on the ground. “Show me your Papa. Where is he?”

  She left the cabin behind with Tommy’s long strides keeping up. About half-way to the trees, on a gentle slope, she stopped. A long narrow bare mound of fresh earth told Tommy all he needed to know. He knelt beside a flat stone lying across one end and read the two words scratched on it. “Jeb York.”

  A man’s name. That was all. No dates telling of his birth or his death. No words of comfort. Just his name. He thought of the man who had lived here with his Indian wife. No doubt they’d had dreams—goals they wanted to achieve. They were both gone. Had they attained any of those goals or had they just existed? Before they died, did they know and experience the love and forgiveness of God? Where were they now? Were they happy in His presence? Tommy hoped so.

  A movement to his side brought him back to the problem at hand as a weight of responsibility settled on him. There would be no father coming home to take care of the little girl. Something would have to be done about her. Now he knew more than ever that God had sent the wolf last night. If Midnight hadn’t thrown him and run off there would have been no one to care for her. God had sent Midnight this morning to take her to town. She needed his horse more than he did. She couldn’t survive long by herself.