A Dream for Tomorrow

by Melody Carlson

  “Why don’t you come on inside and cool yourself off, cowboy,” she called up at him. “Come on down from that big horse and have a drink with me.”

  Ignoring the loquacious redhead, Elizabeth turned to the sultry looking dark-haired woman next to her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said in a friendly tone. “Have you seen an old man—”

  “What kind of old man are you looking for?” the redhead asked in a teasing tone. “We get all sorts in here. I’m sure I can find someone for you.”

  “He’s a Negro man,” Elizabeth said in a stiff voice.

  The dark-haired woman’s eyes glinted like she knew something, but she still kept quiet.

  “You mean Brady?” the redhead asked.

  “Yes!” Elizabeth said eagerly. “Have you seen him?”

  The redhead jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the dance hall. “He’s in there.”

  “Brady’s in there?” Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Eli, and he looked uncertain. But Elizabeth was already sliding out of the saddle, tying her reins to the hitching post.

  “Your slave ain’t feeling too smart right now,” the redhead told her as she pushed open the door to the dance hall.

  “He’s not my slave.” Elizabeth locked eyes with the woman. “He’s my employee.”

  The redhead nodded with a curious expression. “Well, your employee got himself beat up good today.”

  “Is he all right?”

  Now Eli was coming inside.

  “He’s back here.” The redhead pushed open another door, revealing a small windowless room with a narrow bed pushed against the wall with Brady lying on it with a bloody towel draped across his forehead.

  “Brady!” Elizabeth rushed to his side. “Are you all right?”

  He opened his eyes, and a slow smile of relief washed over his swollen face. “Miss Elizabeth,” he gasped. “Am I glad to see you.”

  “What happened?” Eli asked as he joined them in the stuffy little room.

  “Did someone in town do this to you?” Elizabeth demanded.

  Brady’s smile evaporated. “No, ma’am. No one in town done this.”

  “Who did it then?” Eli asked quietly.

  Brady winced as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I had just got my socks at the mercantile. Then I figgered I’d best get myself back to the wagon train.” He reached up to touch his bruised head. “I was just cutting down the alley when I saw a man from the wagon train…he came at me, swinging his fists, saying he’s gonna kill me. But that boy was with him…you know, the one I pulled from the river. Robert Stone’s his name. He yelled out, ‘Don’t kill him, Pa.” Brady looked confused. “Was that man Robert’s pa?”

  Elizabeth looked at Eli. “Abner Stone,” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Brady,” Elizabeth said urgently. “Are you strong enough to travel?”

  “Sure.” He reached for her hand and slowly stood, wavering a bit as if dizzy.

  “Easy does it.” Eli came over to steady him.

  “I brought my father’s horse for you,” she told him. “Do you think you can ride?”

  “Sure, I can ride.” He smiled, revealing a broken front tooth. Probably the handiwork of Abner Stone. “Druther ride than walk.”

  “Let me help you.” Eli wrapped an arm around Brady, guiding him to the door and out.

  Now Elizabeth turned to the redheaded woman, who had been lurking by the door, watching them the whole time. “What do I owe you?” Elizabeth asked. “For caring for Brady like this.”

  The woman waved her hand. “Nothing.”

  “I don’t have any money on me right now,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I could send you something in the mail. At our next stop.”

  “I said you owe me nothing.” The redhead rolled her eyes upward. “I was just trying to be a good neighbor to the poor old man. Wasn’t looking to get rich from it.”

  Elizabeth went closer to her and, looking directly into her eyes, she reached for her hand. “Thank you, ma’am. You are truly a good Samaritan.”

  The woman looked confused, pulling her hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know what a Samaritan is.”

  “God bless you,” Elizabeth said as she walked through the dance hall, pausing at the front door. “God bless you for your kindness to a stranger.”

  Now the woman laughed. “Well, now, that’s a new one.”

  “Come on, Elizabeth,” Eli called from outside. “We’ll have to take it slow and easy for Brady’s sake. But we need to get moving if we’re going to catch up with the wagon train before dark.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Abner Stone and his family were removed from the wagon train in Fort Bridger. No one was sad to see them go. Elizabeth felt a little pity for Robert. But there was nothing they could do for the boy. Maybe he would learn an important life lesson from all this—maybe he would grow up into something vastly different from his dad. She prayed he would.

  The going continued to be rough in these parts. There were numerous breakdowns on the rugged mountain trail and many a stream and river to cross. Teams and emigrants were pushed to their limits, and at the end of the traveling day, there was little energy left for anything more than wagon repairs, chores, and bed. And the next day they would get up and do it all over again.

  Elizabeth knew they were in Blackfoot country now. She also knew that the Blackfoot tribe was in a peace treaty with the government. So when they passed by a tepee village one morning, she was more interested than concerned. As she rode Molly alongside the wagon train, looking out toward the village, she wondered what it would be like to live as they did. Would it really be that much different from how the emigrants were living right now? To her surprise, it looked intriguing…from a distance. However, she had no idea what it would be like if she were actually there. She supposed that Eli could tell her about that. But from her vantage point here, it seemed peaceful and orderly, and the idea of being stationary instead of constantly rolling along was highly appealing.

  “Good morning, Elizabeth.”

  She turned to see Eli riding his horse toward her. Because of the rumbling noise of the nearby wagon train, she hadn’t even heard him approaching. She waved and greeted him. “I was just thinking of you.”

  A smile lit up his face. “Me?”

  She pointed to the tepee village. “I was wondering what it would feel like to live like that.” She sighed, pulling the reins to stop Molly. “It looks so peaceful and calm from here.”

  He chuckled as he stopped his horse next to her. “Well, it’s not so different from any other village where families live next to each other. You’d hear kids playing and letting out happy squeals. Dogs barking. Neighbor women arguing over who picked the last of the chokecherries.”

  “Chokecherries?” She eyed him. “That doesn’t sound good. Are they poisonous?”

  “No, they’re delicious.”

  “Really? Why are they called chokecherries?”

  He laughed. “I have no idea.” He untied a buckskin bag from his belt. “Hold out your hand,” he told her.

  She held out her hand, and he poured a powdery-looking substance into it. “What is that?”

  “Pemmican.”

  “What is that?”

  “Mostly it’s dried venison and bison that’s been ground into powder. But this pemmican is my own special recipe.” He pointed to some dark red flecks in her hand. “I added dried chokeberries to it. Go ahead, give it a try.”

  “Just eat it?” she asked.

  He nodded. “You wondered what it was like to be an Indian. Just eat it.”

  So she dumped the powder from her palm into her mouth. It had an interesting taste—a mix of salty and sweet. “Not bad,” she told him.

  “It’s saved my life more than once,” he said as he poured some into his own palm and ate it.

  She looked back toward the tepee village. “Do you think you’ll ever live like that again, Eli? I mean with the
Indians?”

  “I don’t know…”

  She turned back to him, watching as he gazed toward the village. “Do you miss it?”

  “There were many things about the village that I will never miss. But I do miss my family.”

  “Oh…” She tried to imagine him with his Indian wife and child. “How old would your son be now?”

  “About the same age as JT.”

  “Oh…” She wished she could think of something besides “oh” to say.

  “I have to admit there are things about village living I do miss,” he continued.

  “What sort of things?”

  “I miss the comforts of family and community. I spend so much time traveling around the country that I sometimes stop and realize how I have no roots…nothing to keep me in one place.” He nodded back to the wagon train. “You folks are traveling too. But you have a strong feeling of community. Especially in your unit. And of course, you have your family with you.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do without that,” she confessed.

  He pointed back to the Blackfoot village. “In some ways you’re more like the Indians than I am, Elizabeth.”

  “How so?”

  “They are very connected to the tribe. Everything in their lives surrounds family and community. To be exiled from the tribe is a fate worse than death.”

  “Is that how you feel?” she asked him. “As if you are exiled?”

  He smiled. “Not exactly. If anything this is my own doing. I have turned myself into an exile by choice. I always tell myself I can return to civilization anytime I want.” He looked into her eyes, almost as if searching for something. “I’m just not entirely sure if I want to.”

  She felt her cheeks growing warm. “I wouldn’t be able to live like that,” she said quietly. “To travel endlessly, never having a home, never having neighbors or family nearby.” She shook her head. “Even now, I’m longing to end what feels like a never ending journey. I long to stop moving and to put down roots. I want to build a home, hang curtains in the windows, plant crops, raise animals…” She looked defiantly back at him. “I will not settle for less.”

  They remained like that for a long moment, eyes locked while seated on their horses. It was almost like a contest…who would look away first.

  “And you shouldn’t settle for less,” he told her quietly. Then he turned and looked away. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  She took in a slow breath, trying to steady the fluttery skittish feeling inside of her, hoping he could not see it.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “It looks like there’s a breakdown near the front of the train. I should go and lend a hand.”

  “Yes, of course.” She stayed put, watching him ride away, a pale cloud of dust rising up behind him. And somehow she knew that this moment was like a crossroads for them. He was riding away from her now, and that was how it was meant to be. They were too different. She wanted a home, family, community, security. He wanted his freedom, adventure, independence. It was like the old story of the fish falling in love with the bird…where would they build their home?

  As they traveled through Soda Springs and along the twisting Snake River, the going gradually grew a bit easier. At least on some days. On other days it seemed that nothing went right. Wagons would break down or an animal would need to be put down. Sometimes the wagon train was delayed by a burial service and sometimes by a birth. Sometimes, following a less challenging day, the travelers in unit five gathered for music and merriment. However, Eli seemed noticeably absent of late.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but Will appeared to be making the most of Eli’s absence. He seemed to take for granted that his company was welcome. And it was undeniable that Will Bramford was a good companion. A perfect gentleman, intelligent, interesting, witty…what more could a widow hope for? At least that’s what Flo and Lavinia liked to tell Elizabeth every time they got the chance to!

  “Have you heard the latest news?” Will asked her one night. Everyone was in good spirits because they would reach another milestone the next day—Fort Hall.

  “What sort of news?” she asked as she tapped her toes to the music.

  “Well, it’s not actually news yet.” He lowered his voice as he led her away from the area where the young people were dancing a reel to the lively music. “In fact, it is a secret. But if you promise to keep it under your hat…” He chuckled. “Or under your bonnet, I’d like to share it with you, and I’d appreciate your opinion.”

  She nodded, suddenly curious as to this news.

  They were a good distance away from the crowd now. Will leaned close to her and whispered into her ear. “Julius is planning to propose matrimony to Mahala.”

  “Truly?” Elizabeth blinked. She knew the two had been spending time together, but she’d not heard a single word of this. Yet she walked with Lavinia and Flo nearly every morning. Were they keeping this away from her?

  “Furthermore, their parents don’t even know about it yet.”

  This was even more surprising. “Then how did you find out?”

  “Julius is my godson. He came to me first, asking me my opinion.”

  “Of course. What an honor for you.”

  “Yes…but it’s also quite a responsibility. I wouldn’t want to misguide my only godson.”

  Now she felt worried. Her first impression, back in March, was that these Bostonians were awful snobs. And the Flanders…well, they were good hardworking people, but they were not the sort that the highfalutin Bostonians would normally include in their circle of friends back in Boston. In fact, they had taken some time to bridge that social gap. But the wagon train was a good place for forging new relationships. Even so, Elizabeth sometimes wanted to laugh out loud at the strange irony of befriending both Lavinia and Flo. She could hardly imagine two women more different. And yet for the most part, they got along.

  “As I said, I am honored Julius asked for my advice.” Will was watching the young dancers with an intense expression.

  “And how did you advise him, may I ask?”

  “It’s my opinion that if Julius loves Mahala, and if Mahala loves Julius, then why should anyone stand in their way?”

  Elizabeth nodded. It seemed the only fair response. But now she was considering this relationship from another angle. Certainly Mahala was a dear girl, but the way she had shifted her affections so swiftly from the disreputable Jack Smith to sweet Julius Prescott…well, it was a bit disconcerting.

  Part of Elizabeth had been relieved that Mahala so easily forgot Jack, but another part of her was bewildered by this rapid change of heart. Was it truly possible to fall in and out of love so quickly, so easily? Perhaps for the young. But what if Mahala truly didn’t love Julius? Or what if she didn’t love him quite as much as Julius appeared to love her? Of course, Elizabeth knew this wasn’t her concern. And she would never voice these questions. Not to anyone. Besides that, she had made a promise to Mahala and she intended to honor it—the incident with Jack Smith would remain undisclosed. Still, it was unsettling to harbor such a secret.

  “What do you think?”

  “What?” She looked at him. “Think about what?”

  “Do you think it’s wise for Julius and Mahala to become engaged?”

  “Oh…well…I don’t see why they shouldn’t…if their love is genuine.” She felt a bit nervous now. “However, I do wonder why you are telling me about all this…why you’d care about my opinion. What difference does it make what I think?”

  He looked into her eyes with tenderness. “I’ve taken you into my confidence because I have no one else to discuss this with. Certainly not Julius’ parents. Not yet anyway. And not my own children. Belinda and Amelia wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it. Do you mind that I shared it with you? Am I out of line?”

  “No…no, not at all. I was just curious. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “Because I feel that you’re my friend, Elizabeth. I know I can trus
t you.”

  She smiled back at him. “Yes, of course, we’re friends, and I’m honored you confided in me. And I do think Julius and Mahala will make a fine couple. I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.”

  He let out a sigh. “It’s a relief to hear you say that.” He rubbed his chin. “I really do trust your judgment, Elizabeth.”

  “I’m sure both sets of parents will be pleased to give their blessing.”

  “Even Lavinia?” His brow creased slightly as if, like her, he was well aware of the social differences of these two families.

  “Even Lavinia.” She gave him a confident smile. “I’m sure of it.”

  “That is a huge relief. You have no idea.” He let out an even bigger sigh. “I’m surprised I’ve found this so worrisome, but it’s because I want the best for Julius. And for Mahala too, of course.”

  “Of course.” Elizabeth pushed thoughts of Jack Smith to the back of her mind.

  “Now I just hope that my own children aren’t planning matrimony anytime soon.”

  “Nor mine.”

  Will laughed. “I should think not!”

  Elizabeth had difficulty imagining that JT or Ruth could grow old enough to wed. Oh, she knew it was a fact of life, but the idea of her children marrying, leaving her alone, starting families of their own…it was all rather unsettling. And yet JT was only seven years younger than Julius. And it wasn’t unusual for girls just eight years older than Ruth to marry. What would her life be like if she was completely alone in fewer than ten years?

  “You seem deep in thought.”

  Elizabeth shook herself from her dismal imaginings, forcing her attention back on Will. “I’m sorry. Truth be told, I was feeling somewhat disturbed to think that Ruth and JT will be old enough to marry one day…and that they will leave the nest.” She forced a smile. “I know it’s inevitable, and I would want it no other way. And yet I cannot imagine my life without my children. It made me feel so lonely.”

  “Oh, I doubt you’ll ever need to concern yourself with that, Elizabeth.”