A Dream for Tomorrow

by Melody Carlson

  After an hour or so she realized that the rumbling sound of the wagon train had ceased, and for a moment she wondered if perhaps some miracle had transpired and the wagon train had decided to turn back. But when she turned around she realized the train, as usual, was simply stopping for the midday meal. She also realized that her family would wonder what had become of her. With fear and trepidation at the thought of sharing this grimmest of news, she hurried back toward the wagons.

  “Where have you been?” Clara asked as Elizabeth joined them.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathlessly told her. “I lost track…of time.”

  “No matter.” She handed her a stack of tin plates and utensils, and Elizabeth, grateful to be busy, tried to shove thoughts of Indian massacres into the recesses of her mind. However, after they finished their meal and after Elizabeth did her share of cleaning up and putting the last of the pots and dishes away, she set off to speak to her father. She could not keep this news from him.

  Finding him examining his team and the harnesses, she impatiently waited for him to finish. “I need to speak to you,” she said abruptly.

  “Elizabeth.” He stood up straight with a surprised expression. “Why aren’t you attending to your own team?” His tone was terse.

  “JT and Brady will see to my team.”

  “Don’t forget that it’s your job too.” His expression softened. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I didn’t mean to scold. But the captain’s warnings keep ringing in my head. We all must be on our toes or risk calamity.”

  “Father,” she began in a shaky voice, afraid she was about to cry again.

  “What is it, child?” He came over and peered at her face. “Are you unwell?”

  “I’m a bit unwell—in spirit.”

  “What is it?” His brow creased. “Does this have to do with Eli Kincaid?”

  “Eli?” She was shocked. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Oh, just something your mother said.”

  She firmly shook her head. “No. This has nothing to do with Eli, Father.” She pulled the rumpled letter from her skirt pocket. “It has to do with this letter from…from Malinda.” She handed it to him. “It’s too horrible to even speak of. Maybe you should just read it for yourself.”

  Asa looked at the letter and then up to where Captain Brownlee was just mounting his horse. The captain paused for a moment, removing his felt hat and waving it up and down—his signal that drivers should be in the wagons.

  “No time to read it now.” Asa tucked the letter into his shirt pocket and hurried toward the wagon seat, where Clara was already waiting. “I’ll read it as we travel.”

  She nodded and hurried back to her own wagon, where Brady was waiting by the team and Ruth and Flax were seated. “You wanna drive now, ma’am?” Brady asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” she told him. “You take a break. Rest in the back if you like.”

  He shook his head. “D’ruther walk some, I reckon.”

  “JT is riding with Matthew,” Ruth said as Elizabeth climbed up. “Jess is walking with Belinda, Evelyn, and Amelia.” Ruth grinned. “And it was my idea. I told Jess that since Fiona was gone on the Applegate Trail, it was time for her to make some new women friends.”

  “Wagons ho!”

  Elizabeth released the brake, and clicking her tongue loudly, she snapped the reins. She watched as Beau and Bella obediently moved forward, slowly leading the rest of her team…faithfully plodding one step at a time…steadily pulling the wagon closer and closer…mile by mile…to where she no longer wished to go.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Not wishing to worry Ruth, Elizabeth kept up the pretense that all was well, chatting and singing with her daughter for the remainder of the afternoon. She knew she should be thankful that the trail wasn’t too demanding here, because based on her father’s words and judging by the landscape ahead, it would soon get much rougher. Still, she thought she would rather face the worst rugged trail than the news in Malinda’s letter.

  When they finally stopped at the end of a long day, Elizabeth as usual sent Ruth to assist her grandmother. “I’m going to give a hand with the team,” she explained. “Tell Grandma I’ll be along soon.”

  At first Brady protested that he didn’t need Elizabeth’s help with the team, but she insisted. Then when JT joined them, she let the two of them take over and went off in search of her father. She could tell by his expression that he had read the letter.

  “Elizabeth,” he said as he led his team to the line.

  Without saying anything, she helped him tend to the oxen. She could tell he was tired. And she suspected that the letter from Malinda had taken a toll on him too. She was thankful to see Brady and JT coming now as well as her brother. “Can you fellows take over for us?” she asked Matthew with a serious expression. “I need to speak to Father.”

  Matthew just nodded, but he looked curious.

  “Come on, Father,” she said. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Asa didn’t protest. And for a while they just walked in silence.

  “That was quite a letter,” he said finally.

  “Yes.” She sighed. “I’m still stunned by it.”

  “I let your mother read it too.”

  “I supposed that you would. How did she take it?”

  He shook his head. “She cried for the loss of John.”

  “Yes…so did I.”

  “I had read of some Indian troubles in that part of Oregon,” Asa said slowly. “But I thought that the army had moved in…that these troubles had been resolved.”

  “As I was driving this afternoon, I became quite angry with Malinda,” Elizabeth confessed.

  “Angry?”

  “For not telling me the truth in her previous letters.”

  “Oh, yes…that…”

  “Then I realized that she was only trying to protect me. And I remembered the great joy the children and I had each time we received one of her long, descriptive letters…how we would gather after supper and read it together. Malinda made Oregon sound like such a wonderful place, like a heavenly Promised Land.”

  Asa reached into his shirt pocket, removing the letter, and handed it back to her. “But not in this.”

  “No…not in that.” She tucked it into her skirt pocket. “What are we to do?”

  Asa stopped walking, and removing his hat, he rubbed his forehead. “All we can do is what we’re already doing, Elizabeth. Continue.”

  “But what about her warning?”

  Asa let out a long loud sigh. “I must admit that I’m perplexed by this news. I don’t relish the thought of taking my grandchildren into hostile Indian territory. But there are always troubles in this world, Elizabeth. Our ancestors struggled against all sorts of adversities to settle our land. My grandpa defended his family against Indians. Even my pa when he was a boy. We knew when we chose to make this pilgrimage that it wouldn’t be easy.”

  “And certainly, it’s not. But the lure for me—the prize at the end of this arduous journey—was settling in the Promised Land.”

  “Even that won’t be easy,” he told her. “When we arrive, we’ll have to clear land and build cabins.”

  “Yes, I know it will be hard.” She nodded eagerly. “But I was looking forward to settling, Father. I wanted to build something new with my children…for my children.” She held her hands in the air. “But not so they could perish in an Indian raid.”

  Asa put his hat back on and frowned.

  “An idea came to me this afternoon,” she began carefully. “While driving.”

  “An idea?”

  “Yes. I know it will sound outlandish at first, but just consider it with me.”

  “Go ahead.” Asa waited.

  “The wagon train to California…what if we turned around and attempted to catch up with them?”

  Asa just shook his head. “I don’t think so. In the first place, they will be at least two days ahead of us by the time we backtrack to the fork and reroute. In the s
econd place, I don’t know that California is any safer than Oregon.” He rubbed his chin. “I’ve read stories of troubles down there with Indians and Mexicans and even the gold miners. You saw South Pass City, Elizabeth. Imagine more of that.”

  “What do we do then?” She reached out and clung to his arm.

  “As I said, we continue…just like we’ve been doing.”

  “But what about the others?”

  “The others?”

  “Friends from our unit—the Flanders and McIntires, already on their way to my Promised Land. And what about the Prescotts and Bramfords? Lavinia mailed a letter to have their shipment of goods sent down to Coos Bay.”

  Asa looked truly perplexed.

  “I wish Eli were here,” she mumbled.

  His brow creased. “Eli?”

  “He seems to understand the Indians. Perhaps he could advise us.”

  Asa’s eyes lit up. “How about if we take this matter to Captain Brownlee?”

  “Yes.” She nodded eagerly. “Can we do that?”

  “I know he’s a busy man,” Asa said. “But how about if I share your letter with him and ask for his opinion.”

  She handed him back the letter, glad to be rid of it because she knew she’d be tempted to read and reread it. Also, she didn’t want her children to see it because she knew they’d be curious to hear Aunt Malinda’s latest news.

  When she returned to her parents’ camp to help with supper, she could sense the quietness in her mother. However, Ruth and Jess made up for it by chattering happily. “How are you doing?” Clara quietly asked Elizabeth as the two of them stood by the cooking fire, tending to the pots.

  Elizabeth made a forced smile. “Father took it to the captain.”

  Fortunately, Clara seemed to understand the cryptic meaning and now changed the subject to chokecherries. Elizabeth had told her about what Eli had said, and Clara thought perhaps she’d found some today. “I went into the brush to attend to my business a bit ago.” She smiled. “And I saw these dark berries. I picked some, but I don’t think we should eat them without knowing what they are.”

  “Yes, they could be poisonous.”

  “I put them in a cup over there. I was hoping that someone in the wagon train might be able to identify them.”

  Just then Asa showed up with the captain and another older man in tow. “Hello to the camp,” Asa’s voice boomed. “We have company for supper.”

  “Welcome,” Clara told them. “We have more than enough.”

  “And we have potatoes,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’ve come to the right place.” The captain grinned. “Now I’d like to introduce you folks to our new scout.” He tipped his head toward the tall, lanky man. “This here is Jim McCall. Jim was a trapper for the Hudson Bay Company for better than twenty years. He knows the country we’re headed for like the back of his hand.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He rubbed his scraggly beard as if he wasn’t very comfortable. “And as much as I appreciate the offer of a hot meal, I was just getting ready to light out.”

  “You go right along,” the captain told him. “I know you’ve been itching to get on down the trail. I just wanted you to meet some folks first.”

  Jim thanked him and then excused himself.

  “We couldn’t ask for a better scout,” Captain Brownlee told them.

  “Is he better than Eli?” Ruth asked.

  The captain chuckled. “I reckon no one’s as good as Eli. He speaks more Indian languages than anyone I know.”

  “I wish he hadn’t left.” Ruth’s lower lip protruded slightly and Elizabeth knew just how her daughter felt. Not that she planned to show it.

  “Well, those folks headed for the Applegate Trail are right lucky to have Eli.” The captain smiled down on Ruth. “And aren’t some of your friends in that group? Surely, you want them to get to their destination safely.”

  She nodded with serious eyes. “Yes, I do. Tillie and her family are going to meet up with us after the Applegate Trail. I’m glad Eli is helping them.”

  “And don’t you worry, little lady, we’re in good hands with Jim McCall.” He tapped his chest. “And I’m still here to take care of you too.”

  “Say, Captain Brownlee, I’ll bet you can identify something for us.” Clara held the tin cup of berries out for him to see. “I found these nearby. Do you know…”

  “Let me see.” He reached into the cup and then popped some of the dark red berries into his mouth. “Yep. Chokecherries,” he proclaimed.

  “Did you know that before you ate them?” Clara asked. “Or after?”

  He chuckled. “I would never eat a berry I didn’t recognize.” He reached in for some more. “They must be coming on early in these parts. But we’ve had a lot of mild and sunny weather these past weeks.”

  Now Clara tasted one. “They’re a bit tart, but they would be delicious cooked into a cobbler or pie.”

  The captain smacked his lips. “Chokeberry cobbler sounds delightful.”

  Now Clara called Jess and Ruth over, showing them the chokecherries and explaining where she’d found them. She handed them a basket and a bowl. “Go and get us as many as you can pick.”

  “I’ll mix the cobbler crust,” Elizabeth offered.

  “Supper won’t be ready for at least half an hour…maybe longer,” Clara called out as Jess and Ruth hurried away.

  With only the adults left at their campsite, Clara gave Asa and the captain each a cup of coffee and invited them to sit.

  “The captain read your letter.” Asa handed the rumpled envelope back to Elizabeth.

  She stopped from measuring flour. “And what did you think?” she asked Captain Brownlee.

  Other than the snapping of the fire, the campsite grew quiet, and then the captain cleared his throat. “I can understand why you would be alarmed,” he began. “But it’s my opinion that your relative wrote that letter in a highly emotional state.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip as she poured a bit of sugar into the flour. Certainly Malinda was emotional. She had just lost her husband. There had been Indian raids. Why wouldn’t she be emotional? Still, Elizabeth held her tongue as she sprinkled a pinch of salt and reached for the lard bucket.

  “Anyone going west must accept that there will be Indian troubles. It is unavoidable. Sometimes the white man initiates these skirmishes. Sometimes it’s the Indians. As a military man, I can assure you that the settling of a wilderness is never without bloodshed.” He held a stick from the fire up to his pipe, pausing to light it.

  Uncomfortable at the mention of bloodshed, Elizabeth glanced at her mother, but Clara seemed unruffled by this.

  “Civilization does not come freely,” he continued. “It is purchased with a price. A very costly price.”

  “Human bloodshed,” Elizabeth declared sadly.

  “I’m well aware that this can be offensive to some womenfolk,” he said, “but if you want to successfully pioneer in the wilderness, you will have to put your female sentimentalities to rest.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel irked by this statement as she mixed the cobbler dough. Even so, she continued to hold her tongue. After all, the captain’s experience of the wilderness was much more vast than her own. And he’d been invited to share his opinion.

  “So you’re saying we should proceed with our plans?” Asa asked him. “Continue on to our destination and deal with the situation when we get there?”

  “That is my advice.” The captain shrugged. “Oh, certainly, you could choose another region to settle in. Oregon has much land to pick from. But wherever you go, you’ll face some challenges. Best to accept this and simply move forward.”

  Asa glanced at Elizabeth with a slightly smug expression.

  “And what of our friends?” Elizabeth asked the captain. “The ones who have changed their plans to travel with us to what I have been proudly proclaiming as a Promised Land.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” Clara said, “I have never heard
you make that claim to anyone. If anything, you’ve kept rather quiet, and sometimes you’ve even discouraged others. You can’t lay the blame for this on your own shoulders.”

  “Even so,” Elizabeth continued, “don’t I have a responsibility to communicate this news of Indian troubles to the Prescotts and Bramfords and…shouldn’t even Ruby and Doris be informed?”

  “Ruby and Doris are determined to settle wherever Jess and Matthew go.”

  “And shouldn’t they be advised too?” Elizabeth glanced around, realizing her brother wasn’t here. He was probably still tending to the livestock with JT and Brady.

  “Certainly, you should be free to tell others about what challenges lie ahead,” the captain calmly said. “If they are unaware of the perils in the wilderness, it’s about time they figured it out.” He chuckled then took a pull on his pipe.

  “Captain Brownlee is right,” Asa told her. “Everyone here knows that this is a dangerous journey. Settling will be equally dangerous. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool.”

  Elizabeth chucked the wooden spoon into the bowl with a dull clunk. “Then I suppose I am the fool. Now if you will excuse me.” She wiped her hands on her apron and marched off. Oh, she knew it was bad manners to storm away like this, but it would be worse manners to remain there and give Captain Brownlee a piece of her mind. Besides, she knew he was probably right. It just aggravated her that he could be so complacent about it.

  As she walked, she knew exactly where she was going. It was her responsibility to let their Bostonian friends know about this news. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too late for Lavinia to send another letter to the shipping company, preventing their goods from going all the way to Coos Bay.

  “Good evening, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth was surprised to see Will and Hugh walking behind her. They had probably just finished tending to their livestock. “Well,” she said. “I’m glad to see both of you. I have some news to share.” She frowned. “Unfortunately it is not good news.”

  The men stopped walking, looking at her with curiosity. “Go ahead,” Will encouraged her. “Please, tell us. Are we about to be attacked by Indians?”