Oregon Destiny

by Rachel Wesson

  Becky smiled. “Sorry, Ma, but I don’t think I was ever an angel.”

  “I wouldn’t be without you for all the money in the world, Rebecca Thompson. Never forget that.”

  Their close chat was interrupted by some shouting from outside. Ma moved first and it was then Becky spotted the gun in her hand. She signaled Becky to stay quiet. Becky reached inside her pocket to check her knife was still there. She carried it everywhere just in case. It made her feel safer.

  “Della, Becky, where are you?”

  The women sagged in relief at the sound of Pa’s voice.

  “Here, Paddy, the wagon is stuck.”

  “Keep talking Della, so I can follow your voices. Can’t see a thing in this wretched dust.”

  Ma kept talking, saying all sorts of silly things, until Pa and Rick found them. Ma stayed in the wagon but Becky led the men to the oxen.

  “They just stopped, Pa, I don’t know what’s wrong with them. I couldn’t move them.”

  “Looks like Henrietta is a goner. Pity as she was the best of them,” Pa said sadly.

  “Henrietta the ox is dead. How did I miss that?”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Becky. She may have still been breathing when you last checked. Poor girl is worn out.”

  “What will you do? How will you replace her? We will have to unyoke the oxen but with this dust…” Rick’s voice trailed off.

  “We will have to wait until later when the dust has died down. Rick, can you ride and find the rest of the train and tell them where we are?” Pa asked.

  “I can’t leave you here alone.”

  “You have to. Becky and Della are armed. We will be fine. Go.”

  When Rick hesitated, Becky added, “Please go, Johanna and the others will be worried.”

  “I will be back soon. Don’t move.” He smiled at his own joke before feeling for his horse, mounting and riding slowly away.

  It took a few hours for the dust to clear and help to arrive. Pa used the time to sleep, her ma sewed while Becky wrote to Granny. She wasn’t as good a correspondent as Johanna, but she found by writing, she could lay out her heartache on the paper. It made her feel slightly better writing it out. She hadn’t decided whether she would post it. Johanna had told her a while back what their granny said about the type of man she needed. Someone who would keep her in her place, not allow her to rule the roost. She knew her granny didn’t mean a man who would mistreat her or put her down. She meant someone who was strong enough to stand up for himself and not let her have her own way all the time. Granny had been right. She shuddered thinking of the life she had wanted. Once all she thought about were boys and new dresses. She had purposefully sought out the richer boys with the idea of settling in a nice house. How shallow she’d been.

  Looking down at her pants, she couldn’t help smiling. If her granny could see her now. She wasn’t even wearing a dress, never mind the latest in fashion. What would her granny think of Scott Jones? Somehow, she thought she would approve.

  Chapter 5

  Rick arrived back with her brother-in-law, David. Captain Jones followed them leading an ox.

  “Mr. Bradley gave you his last one. If we lose any more, we will have to either dump a wagon or try getting the milk cows to pull it.”

  Becky laughed thinking he was joking but when no one joined her, she stopped. “You aren’t serious.”

  “Deadly.”

  “But they aren’t trained to pull a wagon,” she protested.

  “Well, its either that Becky or you carry everything.”

  She stopped arguing. It might never happen after all. At the moment, they couldn’t talk without ending up in a fight, so it was better to stay out of the discussion.

  “Come on, girl, let’s go make some coffee. We both could do with some, and I am sure the men wouldn’t say no.”

  Becky followed her ma some distance away from the workers.

  “Becky, you need to stop baiting Captain Jones. He isn’t interested.”

  Becky’s head jerked up wanting to deny her ma’s words, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared over her ma’s shoulder at the man she loved.

  “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s for the best. Now, let’s concentrate on getting our chores done. No better cure for a broken heart.”

  Her ma might be trying to be nice, but really, what did she know? She had only ever loved her pa and given they had married younger than Becky was now, she was hardly an expert on affairs of the heart.

  The weather had turned much colder. Johanna was busy turning one of Becky’s wool dresses into dresses for Sarah and Carrie. Becky wasn’t wearing it and the girls were freezing in their calico ones. It was a difficult project and she wasn’t holding out much hope for the finished product. It might not look very fashionable, but at least, it would keep them warmer.

  “David said we have to use a windlass to get up that mountain tomorrow,” Eva commented.

  “What’s a windlass?” Johanna asked as she looked up from her sewing.

  “It’s a bit like a fishing rod. They use one wagon to haul up the rest.” At the blank looks on the faces surrounding her, Becky explained further. “The men and oxen take a wagon up to the top of the hill, they empty it and then stake the wagon with one set of wheels running freely. They tie a strong rope around the axle and then lower the rope down the hill. The men below tie the rope around the first wagon. Once they give the signal, the men at the top use the oxen to turn the wheels until the wagon they are carrying reaches the top. Then they do the next and the next until all the wagons are done.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that. Couldn’t we fall out?” Milly asked.

  “Milly, they aren’t going to let you travel in the wagon. We have to walk.”

  Becky knew Milly was apprehensive. Her friend had confided she was having nightmares about the baby coming in the middle of nowhere. She was finding the trail difficult, the extra weight of the baby making her tired.

  “Milly, why don’t you let me fetch your water and do some of the other heavier chores. Johanna is the best at sewing but I can make some baby clothes if you want. We can all chip in.”

  Milly squeezed her hand, her gratitude shining from her eyes. “I am so glad we met up on this wagon train. I hope we get to live near each other in Oregon. I couldn’t bear to never see you again.”

  The group went quiet for a few minutes, everyone caught up in their own thoughts.

  “I guess it will depend on where the men file their claims,” Eva suggested.

  “Why do the men get to choose? Why can’t we have a say? We are going to live there too.”

  “Becky, it’s just the way of the world. You have to accept some things.”

  “No, Eva, I don’t. I am not married yet. I won’t marry someone who won’t let me make my own decisions.”

  “So if Captain Jones asked for your hand tomorrow and wanted you to live on his claim on the moon, are you saying you would refuse to marry him?”

  Becky wanted to stick her tongue out at Eva but she couldn’t. Not in this company.

  “Leave Becky alone, Eva,” Johanna said, ever the peacemaker. “Milly, do you know what you are going to call your baby?”

  While the others discussed baby names, Becky thought about Eva’s comment. For all her talk about wanting to be independent, she knew she would follow Scott to the moon and back if he asked her. Was that what happened when you fell in love?

  Chapter 6

  Johanna took a break from sewing to go check on the children. Carrie was asleep and Sarah was reading. Stephen and Almanzo were playing some sort of card game.

  “Is everything all right over here?”

  “Yes, Jo,” the children chorused.

  “Good night then. Stephen and Almanzo, it’s time for you to get back to your tent. Ma will be checking on you soon.”

  “I forgot to do something. Pa is going to kill me.” Stephen ran before explaining to the others what he hadn’t done. Johanna smil
ed. Her brother was never going to change, always easily distracted he was forever getting into trouble with Pa.

  She kissed the girls goodnight before deciding this was a good time for her to have a talk with Almanzo Price. He appeared to be fine but being abandoned by your parents at the age of ten had to have an effect. Particularly when they had left him to die. But looking at him playing with Stephen and the girls, you wouldn’t know he had a sad history.

  She didn’t like to make it obvious she was checking up on him. Not in front of the other children.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, thanks, Jo.”

  Although his words were what she wanted to hear, she guessed from his tone, he was saying them just to please her. “You know you can talk to me, don’t you? Or Rick.”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it? I can see you are troubled. Can’t you tell me? I may be able to help.” Johanna kept her eyes on him but he didn’t look at her. His eyes were focused on the ground.

  “Do you think my parents are waiting for me in Oregon?”

  Johanna’s stomach turned. “I have no idea, darling. I wish I had but I just don’t know.”

  “You think they are dead, don’t you?” Almanzo asked in a quiet voice.

  “Well…yes, if I am honest, I think they are. You’ve seen how hard this trip is and that’s when we are working together. I can’t imagine traveling this road alone.”

  He kicked at a pebble, his shoulders slumped over. She risked putting an arm around him. Ten was a prickly age, particularly for boys. They wanted to be treated as men but sometimes they needed a hug.

  “Almanzo, I know it is hard for you. I’ve seen you checking the graves.”

  He colored guiltily.

  “I don’t know what is ahead of us but you will always have a home here with us,” Becky continued. “Rick has told you that too.”

  “Yeah Jo, but when your own babies come, you won’t want us around.”

  She took him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. Putting a finger under his chin, she forced him to meet her eyes.“I promise you we will always want you. If we are blessed with children, we will need some help. I couldn’t imagine a better helper than you.”

  Her heart grieved for him as doubt and hope mingled in his eyes. If she caught hold of his parents right now, she could kill them herself. Who would ever make a child believe they were unwanted and unloved?

  “I mean it. It’s not just words. You know I don’t lie to you,” she said.

  He gave her a hug, his tears soaking into her dress.

  “I promise, Almanzo, I will never, ever let you go unless you want to leave. Rick feels the same.” She swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat.

  “Thank you.” His reply was muffled by her skirt. She pulled him closer as her own tears fell into his hair. They stayed silent for a while, both recovering their composure.

  “Now tell me, before you came on this trip did you go to school?”

  His shoulders went rigid.

  “Nope. Pa said I was needed at home.”

  “Well, you will have a lot to catch up on then.”

  He untangled himself from her skirts quickly just as she intended.

  “I ain't going to school like a child. I am going to help Rick work on the farm.”

  Johanna laughed. “Rick won’t be much of a teacher if his own children aren’t in the school. You have to keep the side up you know.”

  “Aw, do I really? Can’t I just learn at home. School’s boring.”

  “Learning is never boring, Almanzo.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His facial expression showed he clearly disagreed with her.

  Chapter 7

  David and Scott were up ahead of the wagon train, trying to find some provisions. They hadn’t been lucky with their hunting and the children’s bid to find berries wasn’t too successful either. David sensed it wasn’t a lack of food accounting for Scott’s bad mood. “What's on your mind?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Scott, we've become friends on the trail. I know there is something bugging you and I want to know what. Especially if it is to do with the safety of the train,” David wasn’t at all sure Scott would tell him. Eva had insisted he try to talk to him. Becky was worried about him and had—unusually for her—confided her worries to Eva. “Is it anything to do with the man back at Fort Hall?”

  “Why is everyone asking about him? He was just a no-good stranger with a dirty mouth.”

  David raised his eyebrows at Scott’s tone. “Well, part of that is true. He did have a dirty mouth but he wasn’t a stranger, was he? Becky said you knew him.”

  “Becky doesn’t know what she's talking about.”

  “Funny, Eva said you called him by name. Is this a new skill you have? The ability to know a man’s name even though you have never met before.” David used a teasing tone trying to break through the shield Jones used to protect himself. He guessed the man had been through a bad time in his past. He was fair and a great leader but he rarely discussed anything personal.

  “Okay, so I knew him, it was no big deal.”

  “I think it was Scott. We have been through some difficult situations. Harold and his friends and then that awful man Price. I have never seen you use your fists on anyone, yet you came back from Fort Hall looking like you took on a brown bear and came off worse. So tell me.”

  Captain Jones stayed silent.

  “Go on Scott. It may help to talk. I owe you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. You stood by me when few others did. From the start, you didn’t use my past against me so why should I use yours against...” David could have kicked himself. He had gone too far. Eva had told him the story Mitchell had said but he shouldn’t have mentioned it. So much for letting Jones open up. His face had totally closed down. “Jones, tell me. I might be able to help.”

  Captain Jones examined David’s face before he nodded, pointing to some trees up ahead. “Let's water the horses up there.”

  David followed to the trees and biting his tongue waited for Jones to speak.

  “You're right. I knew Mitchell but we were never friends. It was a shock seeing him at the fort. I thought he was dead.”

  “I take it you weren’t pleased he wasn’t.”

  “That’s an understatement, David. I have no wish to harm my fellow men, but for Mitchell, I would make an exception. That man has the black heart of a devil.”

  “Why did you think he was dead?” David asked.

  “He was supposed to hang for his part in a massacre.”

  “Of Indians?”

  Jones whirled around, the expression of rage on his face making David take a step back.

  “Would it matter?”

  “Scott, this is me, remember. I don’t care if you got pink, white, blue or black skin. What on earth?”

  Jones paced a bit then he apologized. “Sorry David. My brain doesn’t work straight when it comes to Mitchell.”

  “Don’t know about you but my legs could do with a rest. I am going to sit by this bank for a while. You take your time and tell me when you want.”

  Chapter 8

  David sat and waited a few minutes, his mind whirling. A massacre? A white man wouldn’t be sentenced to death for murdering Indians at least not by any court he ever heard of. It was wrong but that was the way of the world. So this man must have killed white people? But why would they let a mass murderer walk free? This wasn’t the civilized USA but still, surely, they had similar rules out here. Just what type of place was Oregon going to be. If they didn’t abide by the same rules as the states he had come from, would Eva be safe? Would any of them?

  Jones sat near him, breathing heavily. “I haven’t spoken about this in some time. I would prefer if the rest of the group didn’t know the details.”

  David nodded his agreement.

  “I grew up not far from here. My family traveled in one of the first wagon train
s to Oregon. If you think the trail is bad now, it was a thousand times worse back then. There were no trails or signs to follow. My pa and the men with him just followed their instinct.” Jones swallowed hard. “One night, our wagon train was attacked and everyone in it was killed. I only escaped as myself and my older brother, Tom, had gone fishing. We wanted to surprise our ma with fish for breakfast.” Jones' voice quivered but David didn’t move.

  “When we got back to camp, everyone was dead. We buried them thinking we were safe. The Indians had taken what they wanted and wouldn’t be back. We were wrong, David. Tom died trying to protect me.”

  Jones stayed silent for a little while. David waited until he couldn’t wait any longer. “What age were you? Why were you spared?”

  “I was five or six. I don’t really know. Someone said I reminded this brave of his own child who had died the previous year. A lot of children had died and the Indians blamed it on the whites. In truth, they were right but not for the reasons they believed. The whites hadn’t set out purposely to kill anyone but the Indians had never been exposed to white people’s illnesses before. They couldn’t fight back and many died. The Indians took their revenge.”

  “So he took you to live with them?” David asked.

  “He did but I didn’t stay. I couldn’t. They had killed my family. I ran away the first chance I got. The Shoshone took me in. I used to think all Indians were the same but they aren’t. The different tribes go to war with each other all the time. The Shoshone were kind and treated me well. They taught me many of the skills I use to help people across the plains. I loved living with them.”

  “So this guy, Mitchell, was right,”David stated. “You married an Indian.”

  “Yes, Kateri was her name. We were happy and we had two children, a boy and a girl with a smile just like her ma.”

  David saw the water in Jones' eyes but took no notice. Instead, he moved toward the river. “My canteen is dry, just getting a refill.”