Threads of Change

by Jodi Barrows

  “It looks like we’re rough and ready!” Luke exclaimed, and he wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders. The current of excitement emanating from him felt palpable. “We’re off to start a whole new life.”

  Liz took one last look over her shoulder before she nodded.

  A whole new life.

  She wondered for a moment whether she’d truly let go of the old one.

  Lucas had given all of his granddaughters a final hug, and Thomas noticed Liz’s pretty eyes well up with emotion as she turned away. Lucas saluted the men with a handshake and a few words of advice, and he asked everyone to join him as he said a prayer for them before they left. He asked God to keep His hand over the group and guide them in safety and health. He asked special wisdom and grace for Thomas as the trail leader, and for the overall protection of each person, calling them by name.

  “Amen,” everyone said together as he finished his prayer.

  Lucas raised his hand to Liz. “Will those chickens be a bother?”

  “They won’t,” Liz quipped. “They know how much I love chicken soup.”

  “Thomas!”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Take my women to Texas!”

  “I will, sir!” he replied with a firm nod.

  The millworkers that stood watching erupted into applause, clapping and hollering at the wagons, waving their hands and shouting their goodbyes.

  Thomas slapped the reins and shouted at his horses to start them off. The wagons pulled out of the yard while all of the millworkers and Lucas stood by, watching and waving. Thomas looked back as he rounded the curve and caught a glimpse of Liz as she watched the house and her beloved porch grow smaller and smaller. He imagined how she felt, like she might never see it again. When he couldn’t see Lucas anymore, Thomas looked out at the river until it disappeared as well. His heart lurched a bit for Liz as she said goodbye to everything she knew, including Caleb, putting it all behind her and boldly ran forward into The Great Unknown.

  When they reached the edge of the Mailly property. Liz looked over to Megan, who could hardly stay seated over the wagon bench as her petite gloved hands drove the team of horses.

  Liz smiled at her sister. She had always admired Megan’s love for life. It was in the small things, the day-to-day matters, that she found the oddest satisfaction for living. The special way she held the stem of a flower bulb before placing it carefully into its allotted square hole, or the way she threaded a needle and secured a perfect knot, even the way she cleaned the house.

  “We’re leaving! I can’t believe this,” Megan exclaimed to Liz, trying to talk over the horses. “We’re actually leaving Riverton! Did you ever dream?”

  Liz bit her lip and tried to smile back at her sister. She hadn’t, actually. She’d never once dreamed of leaving Riverton or the timber mill. That lone tear found its way to her chin again, and she quickly looked back as she went around the final bend in the road. She caught sight of her grandfather on the porch with his hand held high, still waving.

  No, she’d never dreamed of leaving it all behind one day.

  The hot sun perched boldly, straight overhead. The group had made surprisingly good distance for the time they had been on the trail, which pleased Thomas.

  Chet rode over the crest of a small hill and slowed his horse to the speed of Thomas’s wagon, and Thomas motioned toward the region to the right side of them. Chet’s head dodged in the direction after it.

  “What’s up? How does it look over there?” Thomas asked.

  “Still like Louisiana,” Chet joked.

  “Go back and make sure the others are doing fine. If we can find water, I’d like to stop for the horses.”

  “I’ll tell them.”

  Chet pushed back and rode back a short way to where Liz and Megan’s wagons were driving.

  “Hello,” Thomas heard him call out, slowing his horse to their speed.

  After Chet had confirmed that each wagon was doing fine, he rode on to relay the news to Thomas.

  “Good,” Thomas said. “Did you tell them that we would stop soon?”

  “Yes, I did. They supposed the sooner the better.”

  “They need to stop?”

  “I reckon everyone would like a break soon.”

  “Very well. See if you can scout a place for water.”

  “We’ve been traveling parallel to a large creek. Almost six feet across I’d say.”

  “Really?”

  “For about three miles.”

  “Can you lead the way?”

  Chet dipped his head and nodded. “It’s only a short way. Follow me!”

  The wagons tracked off to the right side with Chet leading the way. Up ahead, Thomas spotted a thick group of low trees; just beyond them, a rocky area and a flowing creek—almost six feet across, just as Chet had said.

  The wagons came to a halt before reaching the area of thick growth that bordered the creek at a wide perch where the horses could enjoy the shade and drink water. The ladies quickly unloaded and headed upstream a bit to wash and enjoy the fresh water.

  Blue, John, and Lucas walked to the creek, downstream from the women, and filled several buckets from which the horses could drink. Chet and Thomas stayed behind with the wagons and horses.

  “Everything is going well,” Chet said as Thomas took a long drink from his canteen and then pushed the cork lid over the opening.

  “So far,” he said flatly. “It’s not what’s up ahead that concerns me. It’s what is traveling behind us.”

  Chet glanced over his shoulder. “Behind us? What do you mean?”

  “The women,” Thomas said, wiping his mouth.

  Chet looked concerned. “Why? What did Lucas say about the women?”

  “To watch out for them.”

  “We’ve only just gotten started.”

  “Anything could go wrong when half your wagon train is women!” Thomas joked, but a sense of serious concern washed over him and he shook his head. “What I mean is that we’re still close to Pineville and the ladies don’t seem anxious just yet, but they’re women. They could easily change their minds. And really, I have no wish to turn around to Pineville for their sake.”

  Chet cut in. “Do you really think they would turn back?”

  “We should keep a close eye on that for a few days.” Thomas propped his arm on the wagon. “A man never knows what a woman might do, and they’ve left everything they know behind them.”

  Chet reached into his vest pocket and brought out a small bottle of homemade sour mash. He took a short swig and extended the bottle for Thomas.

  “Just what I need,” Thomas said, and he took a long gulp. “Thank you.”

  Chet put the bottle back inside his vest.

  “I’d like to camp close to water tonight,” Thomas said. “See if you can find out how long this stream carries. The place where it breaks off in the other direction is where we’ll camp.”

  “You’d like for me to go now?”

  Thomas nodded. “Keep your pistol handy,” he warned.

  “Very well,” Chet said, loosening the ropes to his horse and immediately climbing onto the saddle.

  “See if you can find something for dinner, too.”

  Chet tipped his hat to Thomas.

  “Yah!” Chet commanded, kicking his spurs at the horse. He disappeared almost instantly through the thick brush.

  Thomas waited like a mother hen as the ladies went about their business, not realizing for a minute or so that he’d been holding his breath.

  Blue walked up from the creek and must have seen the consternation on his face. Slapping him on the back, he told him, “Relax, cowboy. Everything’s fine!”

  “You’re right,” he said, slightly startled as he removed his hat. “Lucas will kill me three times over if I don’t keep his granddaughters in one piece.”

  “Everything will be fine. They aren’t children.”

  “Yes, they’re women!” Thomas laughed. “Did the horses get wa
ter?”

  “Yeah,” Blue replied with a chuckle. “I’m going to look over the wagons another time. I think the middle one is rattling too much for our own good. Then we only have to wait for Chet and the women to return.”

  Thomas stood up and stretched.

  “But you should rest some,” Blue said. “The sun is out strong today.”

  Thomas quickly found a place in the shade and sat down with his back leaning against a large tree. Blue busied himself looking over the wagons and inspecting them for cracks around the wheels. He’d helped Lucas build most of them, and Thomas felt confident in his familiarity with their assembly.

  Thomas tilted his hat over his eyes and dozed off almost immediately after sitting down. He hadn’t planned to sleep, but the late afternoon sun was enticing; even the strongest of men grew tired from its intensity and vigor.

  The ladies chatted relentlessly as they walked their way upstream. Their legs had grown tired and cramped, and Liz felt thankful for the opportunity to stretch. As Megan squatted beside the water and nursed her hands in its coolness, she realized the reins had done their worst on her sister’s uncalloused hands. “Hurry, Megan! You can do that later,” Emma squealed. “I’ve got to go badly!”

  “Why wouldn’t Thomas allow us to stop?” Abby chimed in. “‘Just drive on, just drive,’ he says.”

  The women laughed at her impersonation of Thomas. She even acted out the hand gestures, just as Thomas did when he gave directions or talked seriously about something.

  “Gracious,” Megan added, “we’ve been driving for such a time, my hands have become raw from the reins.”

  “Megan’s right, Liz,” Abby suddenly said. “You must talk with Thomas about this.”

  Emma nodded in agreement.

  “Riding so hard on our first day out,” Megan joined in as she gathered up her skirts, “can’t be good for us. It can’t be healthy!”

  “Why am I the one who has to tell Thomas we need a break?” Liz protested.

  “Well, you are the oldest, of course,” Megan said, as if it should be understood.

  Abby agreed. “If anyone were to talk with him, it should be you.”

  “I will speak with him.”

  “Lizzie,” Abby said, as she looked at her hands and wiggled her fingers. “Look at my hands! Are yours so swollen?”

  “Good heavens, dear lady!” Liz said, holding her cousin’s red and swollen hands. “Megan’s are faintly red, but nothing like yours.”

  “You don’t need to hold the reins so stiffly,” Megan said. “Only tug when the horses need to be commanded.”

  “I must have held them too tightly without realizing it.”

  “Let’s fill our canteens down here,” Liz told them, watching her steps as she made her way down to the water.

  The others followed her down to the creek, and they all washed their hands and chatted for a time.

  “We should get back to the wagons,” Liz said, looking up at the sun. “We left a while ago.”

  The ladies finished washing and made their way up from the creek, following their own trail of trodden weeds and grass that they’d blazed on their way to the water.

  The women strolled leisurely back to the wagons to find the men with their hats over their eyes, napping and obviously in no rush at all to start the wagons rolling again. The ladies giggled and, after a brief moment of whispering discussion, decided to wake them.

  Thomas looked up, his eyes half squinted from sleep. “Wha-what is it? Has Chet returned already?”

  “No,” Liz said, smiling at his sleepiness.

  John awoke and leaned forward, listening from underneath one of the wagons, and Blue groaned as he sat upright from against a thick tree trunk.

  “What if … he’s been bitten by a snake?” Emma speculated.

  “Ladies, please,” John said. “You’re only scaring yourselves. He hasn’t been gone long. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  John looked to Thomas, somewhat confused over the situation.

  “Well, what are we going to do about this,” Emma demanded. “What if he’s not back by nightfall?”

  “What would you like us to do?” Thomas asked calmly.

  “Well,” Emma said. “I would only hope that you wouldn’t be so passive if I were the one out there and had been gone for this long.”

  “Emma.” Liz looked at Thomas and stepped in. “Let’s not worry about it just yet. We must hope that everything is fine and he will return soon. We can’t worry like this every time Chet leaves to scout out our trail.”

  “Can’t we go look for him?” Emma pressed.

  Thomas pushed up to his feet and grabbed hold of the horse’s ropes and loosed them from the tree. “I will go and search for him.”

  “Where will you go?” Emma questioned.

  “I’ll follow the river a short way,” he said, and then he paused. “And I’ll come back a different route.”

  Blue and John stepped closer to Thomas’s horse as Luke listened in silence, half asleep.

  “Is all this really necessary?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Do you want one of us to go with you?”

  “No, it’s best that you stay here. I need you to stay with the women and keep them calm,” he said, pulling himself onto the horse. “I will be back soon. Do not come looking for me.”

  Thomas left on horseback immediately and rushed through the thick area, disappearing at once.

  “I just know something is wrong!” Emma exclaimed. “I knew he had been gone for far too long! What will we do without a scout! We can’t …”

  “Emma, please!” Liz said. “It’s not certain that anything is wrong at all. Thomas will find Chet, if he needs to be found at all, and they will return soon.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Abby said before turning suddenly to Blue for reassurance.

  Liz swallowed her own worry, only pausing to look after Thomas’s trail for a moment. Nightfall would come soon. The sun had already dipped low in the sky and the heat of the day had passed. The silent calm that covered her seemed to wind its way through the rest of the group. No one seemed sure what to do or say.

  John looked up from the small log on which he perched. “Well …” he said slightly muffled, “let’s get supper on and make ready for nightfall.”

  “We have plenty of food to eat,” Abby said.

  “Yes,” Liz jumped in. “It’s only the first day. We’ve plenty to eat. Besides,” she said seriously, “I would suspect that we should have things in order when Chet and Thomas return.”

  John stood up quickly and placed his hat over his head. “Blue and I will tend to the horses and wagons. Luke, help the ladies collect wood for a fire.”

  Luke nodded his head and immediately set out on the search.

  The forest was heavy with underbrush. It seemed like a deep ocean that someone could fall into and easily disappear.

  Thomas waded through the brush, looking for signs that Chet might have left behind. He figured Chet should be easy to follow since he hadn’t been gone for long, and he hadn’t been trying to hide his tracks. But something still gnawed at Thomas’s insides.

  He peered into a small clearing and blinked hard.

  That can’t be …

  Chet’s painted pony stood before him, riderless. The calm horse casually munched on a green bush, one bridle rein dragging the rocky water’s edge.

  The horse looked up, chewing, and shook his head as if to say hello. He whinnied at Thomas and quickly returned to his supper. Thomas rode up close, swung one leg over his mare and slid down. He patted the pony and checked for signs that would tell him how Chet might have displaced his mount. He found no blood from the horse, or from the rider. The saddlebag and bedroll were intact and showed no signs of a struggle. Everything seemed as safe and normal as a church picnic.

  Thomas scouted the area for a trail or clue about Chet’s whereabouts. His eyes skimmed the water and, as he walked to the far edge of the clearing, something caught his ear.
>
  It had grown quite dusky-dark now, difficult to see through the shadows. But there lay Chet, his head by the edge of a sharp rock with dried blood coating both his hairline and the rock near Chet’s head.

  “Chet,” Thomas said softly. “What happened? You all right?”

  Chet moaned again and half opened his eyes for a second.

  “I knew,” Chet struggled to say each word, “you would come. The women made you.”

  Thomas cleaned the cut and washed the blood away with cool water. He gave Chet a drink of water from his canteen. The head injury didn’t appear to be very serious, but Thomas wrapped his friend’s head with a long rag and pulled it tight before he tethered the horses to a tree line and unsaddled them for the night.

  “Your head isn’t bleeding very badly, but it’s too dark to ride back tonight. We will have to camp here until morning.”

  The forest surrounded them on all sides, making it difficult to set up a camp. Thomas cleared the leaf-strewn ground for their bedrolls and quickly built a small fire.

  Thomas wondered what might have happened to Chet and his pony. It seemed unusual to him how Chet, an excellent rider who worked so well with his horse, had been overcome in such a way. Like all Texas cowboys, Chet took great pride in that horse of his. He’d spent a great amount of time training his mount exactly as he had wanted. Thomas ran his hand down the leg of the filly again and lifted her foot.

  What had made him fall? Thomas asked himself again.

  When he couldn’t find the answer, he concentrated on how to make Chet more comfortable for the night. Each time he tried to move him, Chet moaned in pain. He went over each bone for breaks, but all seemed well. Just one nasty cut on the head.

  He wished he were back at the wagons with a needle and thread nearby. Emma always had her quilt bag of supplies close to her. With his head resting on his own saddle, Thomas’s eyes began to drop as he drifted to sleep. He almost tuned out the slight but heavy footsteps that padded close to the small clearing.

  Startled, he opened one eye and both ears. He couldn’t see anything, but the horses appeared to sense the danger as they tossed their manes. Thomas slowly moved his hand to the side of his leg where he’d strapped his gun. He slipped it gently from its holster, waiting. The horses settled slightly, but Thomas felt as though something or someone watched him. He did not know how or why Chet was thrown from his saddle, but the whole situation seemed amiss, and his sense of duty to Lucas’s granddaughters throttled him around the throat.