Home's Promise (Oregon Trail)

by Mildred Colvin

  “Pastor Blackstone.” Tommy called to his friend and mentor. Had he just discovered a captive white among a peaceful tribe? They’d been warned to watch their valuables since Indians in the area were known to take whatever they wanted. The boy looked to be in his mid-teens. Could the Indians have stolen him from his family fifteen years ago and raised him as one of their own? “What do you make of that boy by the horse?”

  The pastor turned toward the direction Tommy indicated. “The one who’s about to get himself hurt?”

  “He’s white. Am I right?” There was no reason to ask for confirmation. The boy was not only white, he looked familiar. Where had he seen him before?

  “I believe you’re right.” Pastor Blackstone turned to the men who were also watching the boys.

  While he spoke to them, Tommy studied the boy. He recognized him from somewhere, but he couldn’t think. It would’ve been either the wagon train or here in Oregon.

  “They say he’s a guest. He saved the life of one of the other boys, and he’s been living here for several months.” Pastor Blackstone lifted his eyebrows when the boy attempted to mount the horse and was knocked on his backside in the dirt. “He isn’t getting on that horse anytime soon.”

  “I know him from somewhere, but I can’t think.”

  “Is that right? Too bad it isn’t the boy we’ve been praying for that ran away from home after hitting your future brother-in-law.”

  “Wesley Spencer.” Tommy focused on the boy again and wondered. Could it be him? He’d only seen him the one time at Rachel’s folk’s house raising. He hadn’t paid much attention to him then, but it could be him. “Would I be doing anything wrong if I talked to him?”

  The pastor called out to the Indians, then turned back as they laughed. “No, go ahead. They say if you call him away from the horse, maybe you will save his life.”

  Tommy nodded when the boy hit the ground again. “They may be right.” He strode quickly toward the boys and called, “Wesley Spencer, is that you?”

  The boy stopped mid-dusting of his britches and turned with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Step over here. I’d like to talk to you. Angel sends her love.” Not that she’d told him that, but Tommy had a feeling he was telling the truth. She’d seemed concerned for her brother the last time he’d seen her.

  “What do you want?” Belligerence lined his voice, but he strolled closer as if he didn’t care.

  As he got nearer, Tommy saw fear in his eyes. He cared and was afraid. He probably wanted to go home, too. Could he get him to admit it? “I’m Tommy Donovan. I’ve been—”

  “I know who you are. I heard you preach before. What are you doing in this place?” Wesley folded his arms and glared at Tommy.

  “The Indians here have asked us to come and hold services for them. Even though our government has started moving many tribes to reservations, these men are still open to the ministry of the Lord. We come to reach them with the gospel of Christ.”

  A sneer crossed Wesley’s face. “Yeah, well when you get back home, why don’t you tell my dad I’m doing fine? I’ve got friends here. Plenty to eat.”

  “You’ve lost a little weight, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe some, but I work hard, too.”

  “If this village is moved, will you go to the reservation with them?”

  Fear flashed through Wesley’s eyes, but he tossed his head. “Maybe.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell your dad. Seems he’s aged about ten years since you went away. Angel, too, is a pretty quiet little girl. She’s really missing her older brother. They’ll be really glad to know how well you’re doing. This’ll be a lot easier than telling them I found your grave.”

  Wesley stared at Tommy.

  “Maybe we’ll cross paths again.” Tommy started to turn away and stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your dad made a request in one of our meetings that if anyone there ever ran into you, he wanted you to know your bed’s still set up, and you’ve still got a place at his table.”

  Wesley spun on his heel and froze with his hands covering his face. He took a ragged breath, dropped his hands, and turned to face Tommy. The sneer was gone. Moisture swam in his eyes. His face twisted. “Are you sure he said that?”

  “I didn’t get it wrong, Wesley. You may be the prodigal son, but your pa’s the father who’s waiting to welcome you home with open arms.”

  “What about his woman?”

  “She presented your father with a new baby girl a couple of months ago. After we prayed for your safe return one night, she said she wished you could know about your new little sister. You’ve got two little sisters now, Wesley, and both of them need their big brother. No one else can fill that place for them. No one but you.”

  Wesley looked back at the boys as another one attempted to ride the wild horse. “I’d have to walk. It’s a long way.”

  “If you’re ready to go home, Midnight can hold two.” Tommy held his breath while he waited for Wesley’s answer. Lord, have Your way in Wesley’s life. Thank You for keeping him safe and leading me to him. Help me get him home where he belongs.

  After long minutes, Wesley nodded. “Can you wait until I get my stuff and tell the guys good-bye?”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Wesley didn’t take long. He ran to the other young men who stared at his approach. Tommy couldn’t hear what was said, but he saw the handclasps and backslaps that were not unlike that of any young men. Something inside seemed to snap at the sight as awareness filled his heart. He felt frozen in time while Truth made a home in his soul. Man was God’s creation regardless of skin color or culture, and He loved all the same. For all men have sinned and come short of the glory of God. For God so loved the World. Christ died for all, not just the white man.

  While he’d been ministering to the Indians, he’d carried a deep hatred for them as crippling as Katie’s. The only difference was in how they’d dealt with their hurt. She’d been open and honest in her avoidance and disdain of all Indians. He’d covered his feelings with charity work. Working to convert a people he looked down on and considered his enemies could not forgive the man who killed his father. It couldn’t cover his own guilt in blaming the entire race for the death of his father. He’d been wrong carrying hatred toward his neighbors only because they were different from him. When he gave his hatred to the Lord, he’d be free of it. At last he understood why he’d felt compelled to minister to the Indians. Lord forgive me!

  Tommy shared a look with Pastor Blackstone. He needed to have a talk with the older minister. Then he would spend some time in much needed prayer. They’d just witnessed a miracle, but there were more to come before both he and Wesley truly came home.

  Chapter 22

  Rachel placed her box on the table then turned away. She recognized only a few of the people milling around the schoolyard and spoke to those as she went in search of Tommy.

  He was right about Amorita bringing everyone from town to their box social. But where was he? She elbowed her way through the crowded yard. It was gratifying to see so many people out, but hard to find any one person. There he stood in a knot of men near a small table at the edge of the gathering. She stood nearby, waiting while he talked to Mr. Wilson. Most of the men didn’t look familiar, but the tall distinguished-looking one might be Mr. Preston. If he was here, Amorita probably was, too.

  She turned and searched the crowd for a girl who fit the description she’d been hearing for far too long. Ellen Bartlett walked past and waved. The Spencer family, including Wesley, stood together a few yards away. Even after his return, he hadn’t come back to school. Angel said he wanted to stay home and help their Pa with the work. Maybe his time away from home had changed him. She hoped so.

  But where was Amorita? The girl had to be here. Surely she wouldn’t stay away today like she had from the Christmas program.

  “Hey, Jed.”

  Rachel swung around to see Tommy motioning for Mr. Spencer. He grinned and waved. “Rachel,
don’t go away. I’ll be finished here in a little while.”

  She nodded and turned back as Mr. Spencer rushed past her. A road wagon stopped at the edge of the gathering. Hannah and Noel Jackson had arrived. Rachel waved and walked toward them. Hannah set little Onida down and took her hand. The little girl looked adorable walking between her parents, holding to each of their hands.

  “Can’t complain about the good turn out.” Noel looked toward the crowd.

  “Yes, there are a lot of people here I don’t recognize.” Rachel smiled down at the little girl still holding her parents’ hands. “Onida looks so pretty. Did you make her dress, Hannah?”

  Hannah laughed. “Yes, I’ve made so many, she’ll probably never wear them all. I love to sew, and she looks so cute.”

  Hannah released Onida’s hand as the little girl reached for a wild flower. “Be careful, Onida, we don’t want to get dirty. I guess Katie and Jason won’t be coming.”

  “No, she isn’t able to do any traveling now.” Rachel watched Onida hand her mother the tiny flower she picked. “I wish she didn’t live so far away.”

  “I know.” Hannah knelt to give her daughter a quick hug. “I thought they would claim out this way, but the last time I saw Katie, she said Jason wanted to stay near the Thomases and Mr. Thomas was certain the land they claimed was the best.”

  Rachel nodded. “That’s what Tommy told me. At least they’re still close to Oregon City. Of course, with Willtown coming in, it may be a long time before I get back to Oregon City.”

  When the Jacksons moved on, Rachel turned as Tommy left the other men and jogged toward her.

  “I’m glad that’s settled. We needed an auctioneer for the boxes and Jed Spencer seemed the best choice.”

  “We should be able to hear him, anyway.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what we thought.” He caught her hand. “Will you promise to stay right here? I’ve got to get this thing started. Since it’s for the church, they’ve asked me to lead it. I’ll be back when the auction starts and you can tell me which box is yours.”

  Rachel nodded. “Hurry back.”

  Tommy mounted the small platform and faced the crowd. He held his hand high and called, “May I have your attention, please?” Gradually the buzz of voices decreased to an occasional murmur and Tommy lowered his hand.

  “Welcome to Willtown. It doesn’t look like much of a city right now, but if you’ll give us some time, we’ll do our best to do something about that. Today is the first step in that direction. We have a school.” He motioned toward the one-room log cabin that served as the school. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the new general store now open for business.”

  Tommy nodded toward the new two-story store sitting across the road. “The unfinished building next door to it will be a hotel. Now we need a church building. That’s where you come in.”

  Tommy flashed a smile over the crowd, and a familiar pounding took place in Rachel’s chest. He was hers, and she’d never loved him more.

  “The ground you are now standing on will soon be the church yard. I especially want to thank you for coming and lending your support to this very worthy cause. Without your help, our effort would be in vain. With God’s help and yours, we’ll soon have a church in Willtown.”

  Someone on the outskirts of the crowd started clapping, and the others joined in. Tommy waited before raising his hand again. “Thank you. Now before the auctioneer comes up here, I’ve asked Miss Amorita Preston to lead us in a song of praise.”

  He looked toward the back of the gathering as a wide smile broke out on his face. “Miss Preston?” Tommy stepped to the side and waited.

  As the warm May sun flooded the countryside, Rachel shivered. A chill crept up her back while her heart became cold and heavy. She stared at Tommy then turned to catch her first glimpse of the girl she’d heard so much about. At first, she saw nothing. So where was she? This girl everyone loved so much. Ha! She wasn’t even here. Just like at Christmas. And like then, she’d found someone else to take her place. A satisfied feeling grew in Rachel’s heart as a red-headed woman who was surely nearing thirty, wound her way through the people scattered across the yard.

  Rachel looked back at Tommy. He watched the woman with a wide welcoming smile. Didn’t he care that Amorita had again failed to appear? Who was this plain, tall woman with curly shoulder-length hair that flew out in wild abandon as the wind caught it? What would Amorita’s excuse be this time?

  “Amorita Preston.” Tommy spoke the name in a loud voice. “Thank you.”

  He held her hand as she climbed the steps to the platform. “Let’s give Miss Preston a hand of thanks for her part in getting our social off to a good start. The box social was her idea, and without her tireless effort getting out the word, you might not be here.”

  He started clapping and everyone joined in. All except Rachel. She stood in stunned disbelief. This was Amorita Preston? What could Tommy see in her? She was—old.

  Amorita lifted a hand. “Thank you, but without you, I wouldn’t be here. She pointed toward the blue sky above. “And without Him, none of us would, so let’s lift our voices in praise to our Heavenly Father, who makes all things possible. We have neither songbook or accompaniment, but we can lift our voices in praise to God now as we sing, A Mighty Fortress is our God. Written over three hundred years ago by Martin Luther, the message is still relevant for our time.”

  In a loud voice Amorita began. “A Mighty Fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” As the other voices faltered and died out, Amorita stopped. Rachel stared at her. She was singing the wrong tune. How could that be? Miss Amorita Preston was supposed to be perfect. Rachel’s mental image of the woman shattered. What was going on?

  Amorita threw back her head and laughed. “No wonder I didn’t hear anyone but myself. You were expecting the tune to the song we’re singing, weren’t you?”

  Laughter rippled then roared through the crowd. Amorita wiped tears from her own merriment and held up her hand, still smiling. “All right. Let’s try again and this time we’ll get it right.”

  “I told you she’s great. You can’t help but love Amorita.”

  Rachel swung toward Tommy’s voice. How long had he been standing beside her? She forced what she hoped was a smile and turned back as Amorita started again, this time with the right tune.

  Rachel forgot to sing as she watched the woman. There was nothing spectacular about her voice, yet as the others sang, a beautiful song of praise rose from the crowd. Rachel felt small as she watched the tall, plain young woman standing on the platform in front of her. She could never have done what Amorita had just done. The fear of looking foolish is what had kept her from leading the song services for Tommy. Yet Amorita had made a big mistake and she didn’t look at all foolish. She didn’t understand this woman, but she was beginning to see why Tommy admired her.

  As the song ended, Tommy ran back to the platform.

  Rachel felt a touch on her arm. “Hello, Miss Rachel.” Nancy Douglas stood beside her. Norman and Natasha stood near with Neil behind them.

  “Well, hello, Nancy. You, too, Norman and Tasha.” Rachel spoke to the children. She met Neil’s gaze. “Hi. I’m glad you could make it.”

  He grinned. “I couldn’t miss the chance at a good meal. You know that.”

  Rachel smiled as Tommy’s voice intruded. “Thank you, Miss Preston. Now shall we all bow our heads for a word of prayer? Father, we come to You today with thankful hearts. We pray for Your blessing in our endeavor as we establish a place of worship in this new town. Be with us now as we partake of the food that’s set before us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  At the close of his prayer, he motioned to Jed. “Many of you know our auctioneer, Mr. Jed Spencer, who will be auctioning off the boxes you can see on the table to your left. We all know what’s in them, so let’s dig deep and have a good meal.”

  “Neil, I’ve been looking all over for you.” Blanche Smith’s smooth voice sounded
nearby.

  Rachel turned as Blanche, dressed in a flowing skirt and looking every inch a lady, touched Neil’s arm.

  “We just got here.” Neil pulled away to pick up Natasha. Was he trying to get away from Blanche?

  “Just so you’re here. That’s what counts.”

  Tommy took Rachel’s hand and pulled her closer to him so she didn’t hear if Neil responded. “Before Mr. Spencer pulls your box from the table and someone else gets it, you’d better tell me where it is.”

  Rachel pointed. “See that great big box with the green ribbon?”

  “Yeah.” Tommy’s eyes lit up. “Is that yours?”

  Rachel giggled. “No. Mine is the little one sitting beside it with a blue ribbon.”

  Neil laughed. “That big box looks good, doesn’t it?”

  “But, Neil, darling.” Blanche cut in. “My box is the small one at the far end of the table. See, the one sitting on top with the red ribbon?”

  Neil frowned. “You don’t expect me to bid on that do you?”

  “Of course, darling.” Blanche slipped her hand around his arm. “I fixed it especially for you.”

  Rachel shared a look with Tommy.

  Neil didn’t look happy. His frown deepened. “Unless you’re some kind of magician, there isn’t enough there to feed six people, Blanche.”

  Blanche’s eyebrows shot up. “Six? There’s only two of us.”

  An amused look crossed Neil’s face. “Oh, you mean you fixed enough for you and Tyrone?”

  “Tyrone? Why would I pack a box for him? He brought his own lunch.” Her voice became soft and smooth. “I mean you and me.”

  “And what are my children supposed to do?”

  “Your children?” Blanche looked from one child to another as if seeing them for the first time. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose they can eat with Ty. Kids usually get by. Ty always has.”

  “My children don’t just get by.” Neil spoke through clenched teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I plan to keep an eye on that big box that should have enough inside for my family and the lady who packed it.”