Matthew let out a whoop. “Independence Day at Independence Rock!” He stood up and grabbed Jessica, and singing “Yankee Doodle,” he led her all around the campsite in a joyous jig. Naturally JT and Ruth joined in as well, all of them singing loudly and joyously. Elizabeth hummed along, well aware that making this spot by this date was critical to the success of the wagon train. To arrive even a week later could be the difference between safely crossing the last mountain pass and getting trapped in an early blizzard.
Despite the warm evening, she shivered to remember the chilling tale of the Donner party. She and James had read a graphic account of this tragedy about ten years ago. It was a heartbreaking story of pioneers headed for California who perished in the mountains, and she had pushed this dreadful report far into the recesses of her mind—and never shared it with her children. But she had every confidence that with wise leaders like Captain Brownlee, Eli, and her own father, they would not be caught like those poor immigrants.
“Tonight we will have some real music,” Matthew told them after they ended “Yankee Doodle” on the third verse. “We’ll celebrate making it across the Devil’s Backbone.”
“What about the Fourth of July?” Ruth asked hopefully. “Will there be celebration at Independence Rock? Will we have fireworks and ice cream and horse races?”
Asa laughed. “Not likely, little one.”
“Besides the cream,” Elizabeth said, “where would we get ice way out here—and in the middle of summer?”
Ruth’s mouth twisted to one side. “Then what about fireworks and horse races? Will they have those at Independence Rock?”
“I don’t think it would be fair to race our horses,” Elizabeth told her. “They’re already working hard enough.”
“According to the captain we’ll reach the rock in midmorning,” Asa told Ruth as she returned to collecting the dirty supper dishes. “And we can’t stay there long. We’ll have time enough to take a quick look around and inscribe our names on the rock if we so choose. But even if there were any fireworks to be had, it won’t be dark enough for fireworks there. I have a feeling that fireworks are as scarce as hen’s teeth—and ice—out here.” He chuckled with a twinkle in his eye.
Elizabeth eyed her father as she washed a plate. Knowing his love for fireworks, he’d probably packed a little something for the Fourth. Not that she planned on mentioning this to her children, but it wouldn’t surprise her a bit.
“Would you like me to take over the dishwashing for you?” Mrs. Taylor offered.
Elizabeth reached for the bar of soap and smiled. “No, thank you,” she told her. “I’m actually enjoying this immensely. It’s so nice to have my hands in warm soapy water again with no rationing.”
Ruth handed her another dirty plate. “Isn’t it lovely that we don’t have to wash our dishes in the dirt anymore?” she said, and everyone laughed.
Before long, Matthew, JT, and Brady reappeared with their musical instruments, and soon they were playing a merry accompaniment while the women continued cleaning up after supper, tapping their toes as they washed and dried and stowed things away. Elizabeth had just finished scrubbing the last pot when some of their fellow travelers began showing up. Everyone was in good spirits. Some, like the Schneiders, just came to listen, tapping their toes and clapping. Others, like the McIntires, brought their own instruments or simply sang along. And some, especially the young people, started up some dances.
One thing was clear—everyone seemed exceptionally happy tonight. As Elizabeth tossed the dirty dishwater out behind the wagon, so glad she didn’t need to save it, she whispered a silent prayer of thanksgiving. How wonderful that they would be traveling along the Sweetwater for the next hundred miles. As she used a rag to wipe out the washtub, she vowed to never take water for granted again.
It wasn’t long until nearly everyone in their unit was present at Asa and Clara’s campsite. Even Gert Muller set her chair on the perimeter of the impromptu party, smoking her pipe and looking on with interest. Elizabeth was grateful that their site wasn’t large enough for everyone to dance tonight. She was content to simply sit around the fire, visiting with the other women as they watched the young people having a merry time. Meanwhile the men were gathered around Asa, smoking pipes and listening to the latest news—probably reports on the breakdowns on Devil’s Backbone and the possibility of reaching Independence Rock in a few days.
“It gets surprisingly cool in the evenings,” Elizabeth said as she pulled her shawl more snugly around her shoulders.
“I don’t mind the chilly night air a bit,” Ruby said. “But I suppose that has to do with my age.”
“I’m afraid I was a bit hasty in getting rid of blankets and heavy clothing,” Lavinia Prescott told them. “Hugh suggested we should reduce some of the weight we were carrying last week. It was so warm that day, I assumed we’d have no need of winter things. So I let him leave a whole trunk full of woolen clothing and blankets alongside the road.”
“You didn’t!” Flo Flanders’ eyebrows arched.
Lavinia grimaced. “Evelyn doesn’t even know yet—but her best winter coat was in that trunk. As well as a heavy woolen quilt that my mother made for our wedding more than twenty years ago. Not to mention the blankets and long johns and whatnot.”
“What on earth will you do when winter comes in Oregon?” Mrs. Taylor asked.
“How will you and your children stay warm?” Flo demanded.
Lavinia’s countenance suddenly changed and she looked unconcerned. “Oh, we’ve had a shipment of dry goods en route for nearly a year now. There are blankets and coats and all sorts of necessary supplies. They should arrive in Vancouver in early August.”
“A shipment of goods?” Flo’s brows shot up even higher. “Isn’t that awfully expensive?”
“We are merchants,” Lavinia reminded her. “We plan to open a store.”
“A store?” Flo looked impressed. “Out in the wilderness. Well, well, that’s a right good plan.” She elbowed Elizabeth. “Sure wouldn’t mind having a store where we settle. Say, Elizabeth, did your sister-in-law say if there’s a store where you’re going?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Malinda hasn’t mentioned it.”
The women continued to chatter on about what it would be like when they settled and where they planned to be. It seemed that many of them were considering joining Elizabeth and her family. She was about to warn them that it would add additional travel time to their journey, but instead she was distracted by a certain someone who had just entered their camp. Dressed in his usual buckskins, Eli had his guitar with him. But he looked uncertain—as if he thought he might not be welcome. Naturally, and to her relief, he was warmly greeted by Matthew, and before long he was playing enthusiastically with the other musicians.
She tried not to be too obvious watching him as she tapped her toes to the lively music, but she was glad he’d come. Even more glad that he felt welcome. Still, it reminded her of his comment. Were people really gossiping about Will courting her? She glanced over to the group of men and was somewhat surprised to see Will looking directly at her, almost as if he’d been watching her the whole time. She simply smiled at him and then turned back to the women, where Mrs. Taylor was excusing herself to bed.
“It’s been a long, tiring day,” she told them. “Good night, everyone.”
After she was gone, Doris began to snicker.
“What’s so funny?” Ruby asked her.
“I was just wondering if Mrs. Taylor might be in need of some more medicine.”
Naturally this got some of them to giggling, making more comments and observations—all at Mrs. Taylor’s expense. Elizabeth exchanged uncomfortable glances with her mother, relieved that she seemed as concerned as Elizabeth. However, she didn’t say anything but quietly kept on knitting. Elizabeth didn’t want to chastise the women for their merriment, and yet she felt the need to speak up in Mrs. Taylor’s defense.
“I know Mrs. Taylor has her fau
lts,” Elizabeth began quietly. “But she really is trying to make an adjustment…in her own way. I know from personal experience how difficult it is to lose a husband…the pain is still fresh for her.”
“Oh, of course it is,” Lavinia said with genuine sympathy. “And it’s unkind for us to make fun of her. I have corrected my daughter for this very thing. You have my sincere apologies.”
Elizabeth smiled at Lavinia. Sometimes this woman could be uppity and insensitive, but Elizabeth had never liked her so much as right now.
“I’m sorry too,” Doris said.
Flo nodded. “I am too.”
“I just think if we all continue being patient and understanding…” Elizabeth continued. “If we can show her true compassion and love, she may become stronger and grow from this experience.”
Clara looked up from her knitting, giving Elizabeth a nod of approval.
“And I’ll admit that I’m not always as patient with her as I’d like to be,” Elizabeth confessed. “The truth is I sometimes feel put out, as if I’ve reached my limit.”
“Which raises a question,” Clara said soberly. “Is it fair that Elizabeth is the only one bearing this burden?”
“I’ve wondered about this very thing,” Lavinia said. “How can we help you, Elizabeth?”
“I don’t know.” Elizabeth held up her hands. “My mother has offered to take her in, but Mrs. Taylor rejects the idea.”
“She feels she would be putting Asa out,” Clara explained.
“Although he is already put out since Ruth is sleeping with you.”
Clara just nodded.
“I have an idea,” Flo said eagerly. “Why don’t we all take turns having Mrs. Taylor for meals? We could give her a roster for the upcoming week.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Clara said. “And it would allow Mrs. Taylor to interact with families besides ours.”
“And perhaps if she gets more comfortable with other families, she will consider some alternative arrangements,” Lavinia suggested.
“What is she going to do now?” Doris asked. “Continue to Oregon? Or will she find a way to return back East?”
“She seems determined to continue,” Clara told them.
“Really?” Elizabeth was surprised. “When did she say this?”
“Yesterday evening as we were preparing supper,” Clara told her. “You were tending to your animals. But Mrs. Taylor told me she’d been giving it much thought, and she believes the mission where Mr. Taylor was headed can still use her help.”
Elizabeth didn’t want to question Mrs. Taylor’s judgment on this, and certainly not in front of these women, but she had her doubts. What sort of Indian mission would welcome a lone woman to serve? Still, she felt slightly encouraged by this news—at least Mrs. Taylor was feeling stronger and was considering her future. That alone was worth a lot. Elizabeth was glad to hear it, especially since Mrs. Taylor had been rather close lipped these past several days. Elizabeth had attributed it to tiredness, but she still hoped to finish their conversation about forgiveness and guilt.
Despite the celebratory mood, it was plain that the travelers were weary after their past three days of harrowing journey, and before long some of them began to excuse themselves to bed. With only the music makers and the young people remaining, Elizabeth was about to turn in as well, but she remembered that she still had Eli’s handsome canteen and hoped to return it to him, along with her sincere thanks.
“This will have to be our last song tonight,” Matthew told the young people, who still claimed they were not tired. While they played, Elizabeth retrieved the canteen and then, waiting for the song to end, handed it over to Eli. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me out today,” she told him. “I needed that more than I realized.”
He smiled at her. “But I don’t have your canteen with me,” he told her. “It looks like you’ll have to hold onto mine until we can make a proper exchange. I wouldn’t want you to be without a canteen.”
“But we have other—”
“You hold onto it, Elizabeth.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “I don’t want to take it with me and forget about returning yours.” Then he slung his guitar strap over his shoulder, waved goodbye, and left.
“That’s a real good-looking canteen,” JT told her with genuine admiration.
“Sure is.” Matthew winked at her.
“Time for bed,” she told them. “Tomorrow is another day.” She could hear Matthew chuckling as she headed for her wagon. Sometimes it seemed little brothers never grew up!
As Captain Brownlee predicted, they reached Independence Rock by midmorning on the Fourth of July. And despite the lack of horse racing, ice cream, and fireworks, it was a busy place. Once again, everyone was in a celebratory mood. And although Elizabeth thought it a waste of money, Asa insisted on paying a stone carver, who appeared to make a good business there, to put the names of all the members of their family as well as Brady’s into the rock. They watched for a few minutes as the rock carver began his work, but naturally, they couldn’t stay to see it completed.
“Maybe the children or some of our descendents will come to this place and see it someday,” Asa told them. “It’s a part of our family’s history now.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever pass this way again,” Clara assured him.
He laughed as he put an arm around her. “Nor I, my dear. Nor I.”
Elizabeth couldn’t imagine that she would either. But talk of their descendents and family history got her to thinking. “Father,” she said as they were walking back to their wagon, “remember how Great-Grandpa used to tell us stories about the battles of the Revolution when we were kids?”
“I don’t remember that,” Matthew said. “I don’t even remember Great-Grandpa.”
“That’s because he died before you were born,” Asa told him. “But yes, Elizabeth, I remember your great-grandpa telling you and Peter the same stories he told me when I was young.” He chuckled. “Well, not exactly the same. Some of the battles sounded bigger and bloodier than when I was a lad.”
“I want to hear these stories too,” Matthew said.
“Yes,” Elizabeth told him. “I think we all do. Why don’t you see how much you can remember, Father? Tell us about the role your ancestors played in that important part of our country’s history.”
“My ancestors played a part too,” Clara said. “My grandfather fought alongside Daniel Boone.”
“I forgot about that,” Elizabeth admitted. “You both must tell your family’s stories at supper tonight.” She looked ahead to where the children were walking with Jessica. “These stories need to be handed down to the next generation.”
So it was that both Asa and Clara reminisced over supper. “My grandpa fought the great battle of Germantown,” he told them. “In Pennsylvania.”
“Is that where he lived?” JT asked. “Not Kentucky?”
“My family moved to Kentucky following the Revolution,” Asa explained.
“Mine were already there,” Clara proclaimed with a spark of pride.
The children and everyone listened with interest as old stories of battles and heroes and sacrifices were shared over supper. “So you see,” Asa said as the women began to clear the plates, “our free country—the United States of America—was not truly free. The lives and blood of many of your ancestors paid the price for our freedom today. And that is why we can follow our dreams—journey to new land and build new lives in a new frontier similar to how our ancestors did it many generations ago.” Asa held up his coffee cup in a toast. “Here’s to freedom and the Fourth of July on the great Oregon Trail.”
“Can we do this every year on Independence Day?” JT asked eagerly.
“I don’t see why not.” Asa grinned. “I think Grandma and I enjoy it every bit as much as you do.”
“I’d like you children to write these stories down in your journals when you have time,” Elizabeth told them. “It’s as important to remember where we cam
e from as it is to be prepared for where we’re going.”
But now their fellow travelers were showing up at their camp again, dressed up and ready for music and celebrating. Yesterday, the women in their unit had each agreed to make a special treat to share for a dessert potluck. By the time the dishes were spread on the table, it looked like a real party. Certainly it wouldn’t compare with the fancy sweets that would be gracing an Independence Day party back in Kentucky right now, but Elizabeth had no doubt that it was being enjoyed every bit as much by their friends—possibly even more so.
However, everyone agreed that the real highlight of the evening was when Asa shot off several brilliant fireworks. No one had expected this. But when he persuaded everyone to walk out into the dark meadow with him, away from the campfires and lanterns, they all let out gasps and aahs as they watched colorful starbursts painting bright streaks against the velvet black sky. Some actually shrieked at the sound of the deep booms echoing against the mountains. And Elizabeth got a thrill that was beyond what she remembered from last year’s fireworks—although she wasn’t sure if it was simply the fireworks since her cheeks were still flushed from dancing with two handsome and attentive men tonight. She knew that people, including her family, were speculating and talking among themselves, but she simply acted nonchalant as she stood watching her father’s fireworks with Eli on one side and Will on the other.
Admittedly, with only three different parcels of fireworks to shoot into the sky, it was a rather short display, but it was delightful just the same. And when it was done, they all sang “The Star Spangled Banner” together. Really, Elizabeth thought as she walked with her children back to the wagon, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect day.
Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth thought that traveling alongside the beautiful Sweetwater River for a hundred miles sounded heavenly, especially after surviving Devil’s Backbone. And although each day meant a long and strenuous climb for the hardworking teams, drivers, and walkers, their arduous ascent was made more endurable by the gracefully curving river that traveled with them. Elizabeth wished she were an artist and could capture the rich tones of the emerald green river, the vivid green shades of the aspen trees, and the snowcapped mountains against the jaybird-blue skies. Sometimes the view was so stunning it brought tears to her eyes. And knowing they were coming to the end of this leg of the journey was bittersweet. She was glad to be getting closer to Oregon but sad to leave this beauty behind.
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