Josh smiled wryly. “Right now I’d be happy just to wiggle them.” He picked up the cards and dealt them, and Frank poured two small glasses of whiskey. “Between the laudanum and the whiskey I’ve drunk the last few weeks, I’m going to be an alcoholic by the time I’m healed,” Josh joked.
“Better a walkin’ alcoholic than a dead man, don’t you think?”
Josh looked at his cards and thought about that first night, when Marybeth looked so frightened because he drank some whiskey. “Maybe, but I want to stop taking the laudanum, and don’t bring me any whiskey for a while after this. Maybe I need to feel the pain. Maybe it will help me get to feeling my legs again if I’m not all tanked up with pain killers.”
“Whatever you say, friend.” He threw down two cards and asked for two more. “Whatever you say.”
Josh twisted slightly to deal the two cards. To his surprise he felt an odd tingle in his right thigh. He sat back with his cards, still feeling the tingle but afraid to get his hopes up. Marybeth! How happy she would be if he came back to her standing on his own two feet.
“I’ll bet two beans,” Frank said. He waited, then frowned. “Josh? You with me?”
“What?” The tingling had stopped, and Josh threw down his cards. He picked up the glass of whiskey and drank some. “I’m sorry, Frank, I really am; but I’m just too tired from lifting those rocks. Maybe tomorrow.”
“No problem. I’ll just leave everything right here. I’ll go get my bed and gear. Want me to bring you anything?”
“No.”
The man left, and Josh felt the leg that had tingled. Again he could not feel his own touch. He cursed and hit the leg with his fist.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The emigrants arrived in Portland in late October. Some, including Bill Stone, paid their dues to Cap and kept going, having little to say to the others, wanting only to be on their way and try to forget the tragedies that had plagued their journey. Young Ben Harper could not help a few tears when he said good-bye to Marybeth. He had lost his mother and two brothers to cholera. Another brother and a sister had lived, and Ben’s father wanted to head for the Willamette Valley. There were other towns farther south, and Harper hoped to settle in one of them for the winter.
Marybeth wondered if her life would be only full of goodbyes and never anything permanent. She paid Ben what Josh had promised the boy for driving their oxen for them, and she embraced him, wondering if she would ever see him again. It seemed odd the way perfect strangers could become so close on such a venture, and then suddenly turn back into strangers when they reached their destination, each family moving on to start their own lives. The Cornwalls headed for Oregon City, and Al and Bess Peters went with them. Devon headed for California, a man who never stayed in one place for too long.
“I believe Josh will make it,” he told her before leaving. “He is a strong, determined man. He will come, and you will be happy again. I am sorry for what happened to him. Tell him Devon will come by sometime and see him walking strong again.”
“Thank you, Devon. I’ll tell him.”
Cap took a room in a boarding house in Portland for the winter, but the rest of the travelers scattered until the only ones left were the Svenssons and the Gentrys.
Portland was a town of contrasts. Only recently incorporated, it had a population of about eight hundred, with newly built stores standing next to sagging cabins that had been around since the days of the original fur trappers who had settled the area. Some called the place Stump Town, because the main street had been cut from a virgin forest, and many of the stumps were left for horses and wagons to make their way around. They were painted white so they could be seen more easily at night, but many men had cursed them as a nuisance, having lost more than one horse and broken the wheels and axles of more than one wagon on them.
By day men could be heard chopping away at the stumps, sawing lumber for even more new buildings, pounding nails. It was obvious Portland was growing fast, and Aaron had heard another town farther south, Oregon City, was growing even faster.
The whole area was simply a tiny bit of civilization in the middle of a wilderness. Wild roses grew everywhere, as though God insisted on beautifying the gray buildings and muddy streets. In spite of the cold weather setting in, dainty flowers clung to life. Seeing them gave Marybeth hope, as though God was showing her there was beauty and life in everything, and that even a fragile rose could exist in a harsh wilderness. If the rose could survive, so could Josh…
Sam and Aaron hired a couple of extra men to help build two cabins, one for Delores and Aaron, which would have an extra room for Marybeth and Danny; and one for Sam and Florence, who had a new family in the form of the Billings children, Ruth, twelve; Fred, six; and little Nina. Their own eleven-year-old son, Billy, got along well with the Billings children, the entire Gentry family needing the extra noise and work to help them forget the two graves they had left so far behind, graves they could probably never find again even if they tried. Florence had not mentioned the graves in a long time, and both Delores and Marybeth prayed the woman was slowly healing on the inside, although both knew a woman surely never fully recovered from such a loss.
For awhile they all continued to live out of the wagons while the cabins were being built, the children running and playing together; little Nina played endlessly with Danny, who was crawling everywhere now, sometimes getting to his feet and walking. Marybeth was amazed at how fast the men from these parts knew how to raise a cabin. Within ten days they were inside the crude but warm structures. Neither family intended to build anything fancy. The cabins were simply shelter for the winter. Come spring, Aaron and Sam would build homes in the Valley; during the winter they planned to head into the Valley to look for good land, confident their families would be safe living in Portland, which was well settled.
It felt good to be in the arms of civilization again. None of them had seen anything resembling a city since leaving Independence. Marybeth remembered the day the wagon train had headed west, remembered being disappointed that Josh Rivers had not shown up; and she remembered how she felt the first time he rode into camp offering his services as a hunter. Every time she pictured him then, her heartbeat quickened. She was sure she had loved him almost from the day she had bumped into him in St. Louis.
It all seemed so long ago now, and so unreal. But the fluttering in her belly reminded her it was real. She had married Josh Rivers, and he had made her his woman. Now his life was growing inside of her. Every time she felt that life move, she was reminded that Josh was still with her.
The cabins had dirt floors covered thickly with clean straw, and the men had worked hard at chinking all cracks well to keep out drafts. Large, stone fireplaces served for both heating and cooking. It was a new form of cooking for Marybeth, who had used a gas stove in New York, and then had learned to cook over campfires. The fireplace was not much different from a campfire, but it was more convenient, and at least when she used it she was out of the elements.
When they moved into the crude but sturdy structures, the women baked, and everyone celebrated being in a home that didn’t rock and sway and bounce. Cap was invited to a fine dinner at the Svensson cabin, with dessert and singing afterward. All the Gentrys were there, and there was a lot of laughter. Marybeth forced herself to join in the celebrating, even though inside she wanted to weep as she had never wept before. Here was everything she and Josh had planned to do. How many times had they talked about reaching Oregon, about building a cabin, about having a real roof over their heads and a real bed to sleep in? The ache in her heart made her feel almost physically ill. If only Josh could be here with her, with all of them. She could almost see him standing with the men, joking, laughing, giving her that teasing smile that meant he wanted her.
They celebrated well into the night in the Svensson cabin. Florence had put all “her children” to bed in their own cabin, which was only a few feet away from the Svensson structure, and had rejoined the eating and
singing for a while before finally going “home” Marybeth had long since put Danny to bed. Everyone slept on home-made beds with rope springs and feather mattresses. No one had much in the way of furniture, using mostly crates and barrels for the time being.
“When we get settled in the Valley and have the home I have planned for you, then we will have nice furniture again, Delores,” Aaron told her.
“I am just glad to be here,” she told her husband. They embraced, and Marybeth had to look away to hide her pain.
Sam and Cap finally left, and Delores, growing big with the child she expected to deliver in only a couple of months, went into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Aaron knelt in front of Marybeth, who sat by the fireplace.
“He will come,” he told her, taking her hand. “When Sam and I go to look for that land, I am claiming some for Josh, just like I promised. And you will come and live with us until he arrives to build you a home of your own.”
She looked at the big, sometimes clumsy man with tears in her eyes, loving him for his goodness. “Aaron, I do not intend to be a burden to you and Delores forever. You have your own lives to lead. If Josh doesn’t come in the spring—”
He grasped her hands more tightly. “I told you he will come, and I do not want to hear you talk that way. There will be no more mention of being a burden. You are going to have Josh’s baby. You are Delores’s best friend. She would be heartbroken without you nearby. She is afraid inside, being in this new land, having her first baby. You are good for her. I consider you a welcome friend, not a burden. Now I think you should go and get some sleep.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Thank you, Aaron.”
He gave her a wink and rose, going into his own bedroom. Marybeth went into her room, closing the pine door and removing her dress. She put on her nightgown and crawled into bed beside Danny. Minutes later she heard sounds coming from the other bedroom, and she knew Delores and Aaron were making love, happy to be at least somewhat settled. The thought of Josh holding her, making love to her, tore at her heart and passions like a sword. She ached to feel his strong arms around her, to taste his kisses, to be a woman to him. But there was no Josh in Marybeth Rivers’ bed. There was only a little boy, and soon he would have his own bed to sleep in. Hers would be empty, and she knew it might always be empty. She drew Danny close and cried herself to sleep.
Christmas approached, and a gentle snow fell on the land. Marybeth and Delores worked hard at knitting and baking and sewing, making gifts and cookies and pies for Christmas. Aaron brought a fir tree inside and set it in a can of water, steadying it by tying it to the upper beams. The Gentry children helped decorate the tree with popcorn, and Marybeth watched, thinking what a glorious Christmas this would have been if she could have shared it with Josh. She watched Danny with great joy, wishing Josh could see how the boy walked now, toddling everywhere on his fat little legs, laughing at the antics of the Gentry children, who all did such a good job of entertaining the boy and little Nina.
Danny was weaned now, and Marybeth’s stomach had swollen to obvious proportions. She was forced to wear her skirts unbuttoned and her shirts hanging over them, as Delores had been doing the last few months. Often she wore her black calico wrap dress, which was gathered across the bosom and had no waistline. The baby inside her belly was active and often kept her awake nights, and she had to smile at the thought of what a healthy child she surely carried because of the handsome, healthy man who had given it life.
It was two days before Christmas when Delores went into labor. There was still no doctor in Portland, and it was up to Florence and Marybeth to help the frightened Delores deliver her baby.
“Don’t leave me, Marybeth,” Delores kept whimpering between screams of labor. Marybeth was reminded of her own first birth, the fear, the pain.
“It will all be over soon, Delores,” she assured the woman. “And you’ll have a beautiful little son or daughter to present to Aaron.” She sponged Delores’ face, hoping there would be no complications and no heartbreak for Delores. They had all seen too much of trial and tribulation. The birth of a healthy baby would be a welcome joy.
For hours Delores lay moaning or crying on the crude bed, while Marybeth and Florence gently coached her, and Aaron paced outside, smoking one cigar after another. Finally the little head appeared, and above Delores’s screams the other woman told her to push. A baby boy was soon expelled, red and wrinkled and bloody and squalling at the top of its lungs. Delores’s screams turned to smiles and tears at the sight of her new son, and Marybeth wrapped him and took him to the outer room to show him to Aaron and clean him up.
“Merry Christmas,” she told Aaron. “You have a beautiful, healthy son.”
The man looked down at his new son, dwarfing the boy’s tiny face with his huge hand when he touched his cheek. His eyes teared. “At least his lungs are healthy,” he commented with a smile.
Marybeth grinned. “I’ll clean him up for you.” She looked up at Aaron. “Just think. Some day you can tell him that he walked almost all the way across America before he was born.”
He nodded. “What a long, sad journey that was.” He met Marybeth’s eyes. It had been nearly four months since they left Josh behind at Fort Hall. He knew what she was thinking. “If I could find a way to get to him, I would do it,” he told her. “But it is winter in the mountains—”
“Don’t keep thinking you should be doing something, Aaron. There is nothing any of us can do right now but pray. Cap will go in the spring. You just claim that land for us like you promised. Make sure it’s good grazing land. Josh wants to raise horses.” Her throat tightened and she could say no more. She walked to the table. “Fill a pan with warm water, will you? I’ll wash the baby.” She smiled through tears. “What a beautiful Christmas present he makes.”
Several grizzly mountain men came into Josh’s room carrying whiskey and cards and crutches. Frank handed the crutches to Josh. “Merry Christmas,” he said jovially. “No more draggin’ around hangin’ on to our shoulders. You start usin’ these things, and before you know it, them legs will be movin’ on their own.”
Josh tried to smile, taking the crutches and wondering what Marybeth was doing for Christmas. Was her pregnancy going all right? Had Delores Svensson had her baby yet? How wonderful it would be if they could have shared their first Christmas together. He studied the hand-carved crutches. “Thanks, but what makes you think I can use these?” he asked Frank.
“Because you’ve got your arms and shoulders back in good shape. Now we’ve been pickin’ you up and helpin’ you around—I say it’s time you tried it by yourself. Come on now. Give it a try, and then we’re gonna play some cards and drink a little whiskey to celebrate Christmas. Ole Barnes has a nice piece of venison roastin’ back at the other cabin. He’ll be bringin’ it over in a while.”
Josh winced as he sat up. He had regained a little feeling in his thighs though not his lower legs, but at least he had got back all feeling through his hips. The awful pain in his belly and back every time he moved had finally begun to subside, and for the last month he had been able to eat solid foods. He grasped the crutches.
“Okay, now, everybody leave me alone,” he told them. “And don’t be laughing at me.”
“Nobody’s gonna laugh, you crazy Texan,” one of them spoke up. “Hell, we’re all rootin’ for you. Give us a reason to drink, boy.”
Josh laughed lightly and shook his head. “After all I’ve been through, I’ll probably fall and bust a bone.” He hung on to the crutches and started pulling himself up. He had worked hard with the stones, making Frank bring him bigger ones every few days. The muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed firmly as he strained to pull himself up. He was still alarmingly thin, although lately he felt that he had finally begun to put on a few pounds.
“Come on, Josh, you can do it,” Frank told him.
Josh felt his whole body shaking, and he felt light-headed, but he managed to get to a standing position and hook
the crutches under his arms. The men cheered as he stood balancing himself. Using the feeling in his thighs, he managed to get one leg ahead of the other and take one step before starting to fall. Frank caught him.
“Hell, that was damn good for your first try,” he told Josh, helping him back onto the bed.
Josh was drenched in perspiration from the meager effort. “It felt damn good to get up by myself. I’ll be walking around this room by nightfall,” he told the man.
“Hell, in another month we’ll have you ridin’ a horse,” one of the others volunteered. “I gotta say, Rivers, you sure have broke up the boredom around here this winter. Want us to find you an eager little Indian gal to come visit you so’s you can see if other things are still workin’ right?”
They all laughed, and Josh felt a rush of desire for Marybeth. Little did anyone know how much Josh worried about being able to be a man for her again. “No, thanks,” he told them. “I’ll experiment with my own wife.”
They made hooting sounds, some of them saying paralyzed or not, no man would have trouble with his sexual needs around a woman like Marybeth. The remark made Josh realize that there must be a lot of single men around Portland, a lot of ex-gold miners who had wandered up from California; surely many men who had headed west had lost wives along the way. Marybeth would catch their eyes, he had no doubt of that. He hoped she was safe, but more than that, he wondered how good those men would look to Marybeth if he never walked again or could never be a husband to her again.
“Give me a drink of that whiskey,” he said.
They gladly obliged, and Josh set the crutches against the wall near his bed, determined to start using them every day, no matter how much pain it brought him.
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