Westward Hearts

by Melody Carlson

  “I’ll stay with the wagons and guard them,” Matthew offered.

  “The whole time?” Elizabeth was skeptical.

  “Someone will have to be around to tend to the stock,” he said. “I figured I’d do it.”

  “And I can help,” Jamie offered.

  “Maybe we fellas can take turns,” Asa suggested.

  “Anyway, we’ll figure it out,” Matthew assured them. “For sure and for certain, we are not going to let some scoundrel pilfer from us before we even get on the trail.”

  After dinner, Elizabeth offered to help her mother clean up, but Asa wouldn’t hear of it. “The most important thing right now is for you to learn to shoot.”

  Clara nodded soberly. “Your father is right.”

  So Elizabeth followed her father and Matthew out, where the two men both worked with the novices. And after a couple of hours, both Elizabeth and Jamie knew how to load and shoot.

  “I want you to practice at home every day before we go,” Asa instructed Jamie as Elizabeth and Ruth were getting into the carriage. “By the time we’re on the trail, I expect you and your ma both to be sharpshooters.”

  Elizabeth just laughed, but Jamie nodded as if he planned to do it. And, to be fair, he was a pretty decent shot for a boy his age. She just hoped this trip wouldn’t make him grow up too fast.

  Before going home, Matthew insisted on showing Elizabeth and the children his progress on the wagons. “I got the canvas covers put on two of them,” he explained as they went into the barn. “TJ Sawyer helped me put the bows in.”

  “Where are the bows?” Ruth asked.

  “These are the bows.” Matthew patted an arched piece of wood that supported the heavy white canvas. He did some maneuvering with the edge of the covering, and suddenly it was transformed into an awning of sorts, allowing more air into the wagon.

  “That’s clever,” Elizabeth told him.

  “TJ showed me how to do that too.” Matthew seemed pleased.

  “You sure got plenty of ways to store stuff on the outside of the wagon,” Jamie observed as he opened a trunk-like box in the rear of a wagon.

  “The more we can store outside, the more room we got inside. Besides that, you want some items handy, like tools or cooking pots.” Matthew squatted down and pointed to the bottom of a wagon. “And you see all that black tar down there? You know what that’s for?”

  “Is it to protect the bottom of the wagon?” Jamie asked.

  “Well, that too. But I sealed ’em up real good, so when we go through water, they should be as tight as a boat.”

  “We’re going to take our wagons in the water?” Ruth’s eyes grew big.

  “We’ll have to cross some rivers and streams to get to Oregon country,” Matthew explained. “But don’t you worry, Ruthie, these schooners will hold up just fine. I even tried one out in the pond just to be sure. Watertight.”

  “You’re doing a wonderful job on these wagons,” Elizabeth told him. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  “I just want to be sure we’re in good shape when we head out, Lizzie. From what I’ve read, that trail can be real rugged.”

  Chapter Ten

  Finally the big day was here. At the crack of dawn, and following a family prayer for traveling mercy, three fully loaded covered wagons rolled out of the Dawsons’ farm and headed toward Selma. Matthew’s sturdy wagon, pulled by four oxen, led the way. This was followed by Elizabeth’s smaller wagon, pulled by four strong horses. Asa and Clara’s full-sized prairie schooner, also pulled by a hefty team of oxen, brought up the rear. Tethered to the backs of these wagons was a variety of livestock, including three spare riding horses and three cows.

  The plan was to get additional teams once they arrived in Kansas City. But traveling on the relatively smooth, flat road to Paducah didn’t require the same kind of strength that crossing the prairie, mountains, and rivers would.

  “We’re like a short wagon train,” Ruth proclaimed as they rumbled along the road to town.

  Elizabeth just nodded. She felt an unexpected flutter of nerves as she tried to remember if there was anything they’d forgotten, something important they’d left behind. Oh, she knew there probably wasn’t—they’d gone over the lists many times. And even if something had been overlooked, it was too late to turn back now. The Barrons had taken occupancy of her farm two days ago. She and the children had been staying with her parents because the new owners of their farm wouldn’t arrive until next week. The past couple of days had been spent tending to the final details and helping to pack and repack the wagons.

  During the past several weeks, Matthew had built dozens of sturdy pine storage crates, all the same height and made to fit snugly in the boxes of the wagons. These were filled with goods and marked accordingly. And some were built with drawers that could be opened to retrieve necessary supplies. Then these crates had been arranged and rearranged to create a high raised platform, where feather mattresses and bedding could be unrolled and layered to create a bed when needed. Matthew had opted for a hammock beneath his own wagon. Besides that, they had a large canvas tent that Asa had insisted was necessary.

  Matthew and Asa had come up with the final plan for packing the wagons, and Elizabeth thought it was rather ingenious. Most of the crates in Elizabeth’s wagon contained items for setting up housekeeping in Oregon. Consequently, most of these things wouldn’t be needed on the trail. This allowed her wagon to be less disturbed and to be available for the children or her mother to rest while traveling. It had various furnishings wedged along the sides as well as pieces, like the ladder-back chairs, that could be removed during stops. They had tried to take everything into consideration.

  Her parents’ wagon had Matthew’s drop-down kitchen board attached to one side, and this wagon was loaded with whatever was needed for cooking and had easy access to crates that would soon contain the food supplies they planned to purchase in Paducah. Once filled, it would be a heavy load too. But as Matthew had pointed out, half of their food would be gone and the load lightened when they went over the mountains.

  Meanwhile, Matthew’s wagon contained all of the precious tools and guns, as well as many other everyday supplies that would be needed on the trail, including an interesting selection of wood, metal, and leather pieces that Asa had decided would be useful for repairs. Consequently, this wagon was probably the most valuable one, and because of the firearms, it would need to be guarded most closely during their river travel.

  Asa had taken charge of stowing the cash from the sales of their farms. More than half of it, money they would need once they got to Oregon, was stored in a safe box that he and Matthew had rigged up in the bottom of Asa’s wagon. Without knowing what to look for, no one would ever guess what was beneath those boards. Besides that, it was now covered by boxes and crates. The rest of the cash, their much-needed travel money, had been divided between the four adults, where most of it was securely hidden in money belts. This money had to cover the costs of supplies in Paducah, riverboat tickets and freight charges, expenses in Kansas City, and finally their ocean passage fares. It would take what seemed like a small fortune to get the six of them to their new home. Still, Elizabeth believed it would be worth it. She prayed that it would.

  “Flax is happy,” Ruth told her. “He’s all snuggled down in the bed I made for him in the corner of the wagon.”

  “How are the chickens doing?” Elizabeth asked Jamie, who was sitting on the side of the wagon where they’d hung several crates of chickens.

  Jamie crooked his neck to see. “They’re bouncing up and down a little, but they look just fine, Ma.”

  “We’re on our way,” Elizabeth said as she clicked the reins. For now, she was driving the team. It was a new experience to be pulling a covered wagon like this. But she knew that before the day was over, she would let Jamie try his hand at it too.

  “This seat is real nice, Mama.” Ruth patted the padded seat beneath them. “Lots better than a hard old boa
rd.”

  “I hope we still feel that way a few months from now.” It had been Elizabeth’s idea to use spare blankets and quilts to create a padded bench. She’d folded several of them to match the length of the wooden wagon bench. Then she’d wrapped a couple of the old buckskins that had been hanging in the barn over the top of the blanket pad, securing the skins tightly around the bench with small brass tacks to protect the blankets. All in all, it was fairly comfortable. Still, it wasn’t as fancy as her parents’ wagon, where Matthew had managed to rig a padded carriage seat for his mother’s comfort.

  They were about a mile out of town when Elizabeth noticed that her father’s wagon was slowing down considerably.

  “Why is Grandpa stopping?” Jamie asked.

  Elizabeth pulled back on the reins and slowly pulled on the brake. “I don’t know.”

  “Is he broken down?” Ruth asked with concern.

  “Is that Brady up there?” Jamie craned his head to see better. “By golly, it is, Ma. It’s Brady, right there on the road.”

  “Oh, my!” She handed Jamie the reins. “I’d better go see what’s wrong.”

  She climbed down and hurried over to where Brady and her father were talking.

  “Brady?” She peered curiously at him. “What are you doing out on the road this early in the morning?”

  “I’m leavin’, ma’am.”

  “Leaving?”

  Asa grimly shook his head. “Brady says he’s not happy working for the Barrons.”

  “Oh, dear.” Elizabeth frowned. “I’m so sorry, Brady.”

  “Not your fault, ma’am. Them Barrons, they make their own troubles.”

  “But where are you going, Brady?”

  “Don’t know for sure, ma’am. Just away.” He peered down the road and then shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

  Matthew joined them, looking on curiously.

  “You know you’re welcome to come with us to the West,” she told Brady. “I’ve told you that before.”

  “I know that, ma’am.” He frowned. “I feared I was too old…and I feared I’d be killed by Injuns. But now I’m thinking Injuns might be better than them Barrons.”

  Matthew chuckled, and Elizabeth exchanged glances with her father. He nodded soberly, as did Matthew. It seemed to be clear.

  “Brady, we would be honored if you decided to come to the Oregon Territory with us,” she told him. “You know we consider you as family.”

  His face brightened. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “So you’ll come with us?”

  He still looked unsure. “You don’t think I’m too old?”

  “Aw, Brady, you’re not that much older than me.” Asa patted him on the back. “And we all know you’re a good hard worker.”

  “That’s true ’nough. I sho’ am.” He nodded.

  “Everyone has to pull his weight on the trail,” Matthew warned.

  “I got no problem with that. I reckon I druther drop dead with you folks than be back there peeling taters in Missus Barron’s kitchen.” He glumly shook his head. “That woman seems to think she bought me when she bought that there house.”

  “Brady!” Elizabeth suddenly noticed he was only carrying a small bundle, as if he’d left in a hurry. “Did you remember to bring your papers?”

  He patted his chest. “Oh, yes, ma’am. They be right here on my person.”

  “Oh, good.” She smiled in relief. “I’m so glad you’re going with us.”

  “Why don’t you ride with me,” Matthew said to Brady. “I’d appreciate the company.”

  Brady’s face broke into a happy grin. “I reckon it’s true then. I’m going to Oregon!”

  They loaded back into their wagons, and as they continued on their way, Elizabeth told the children the good news.

  “I heard Mrs. Barron talking to Brady,” Jamie quietly confided to her. “Before we left for Grandma and Grandpa’s. You wouldn’t even talk to a stray dog that way, Ma.”

  Elizabeth just shook her head. “Well, I’m glad it worked out like this. God must have known we needed Brady with us.”

  “Can we sing songs?” Ruth asked. “Traveling songs?”

  “You get us started,” Elizabeth told her. And so, rumbling along the town road in the gray dawn morning, they sang “Oh, Susanna.”

  As their small wagon train made its way into town, Elizabeth felt a tinge of sadness. She spent her whole life in these parts, and she suspected the time would come, maybe months from now or maybe sooner, when she would miss Selma and Kentucky. It seemed only natural. She sighed as they passed the children’s school and then their church with its white steeple.

  Because it was early and a Saturday, not many people were out and about, but Harvey Fortner, at the feed and seed, glanced up as he hoisted a big bag into the back of a wagon. He grinned at them. “Wagons, ho!” he called out as he reached for another sack.

  Elizabeth waved and Jamie tipped his hat…and on they rumbled through town. Elizabeth had just been into the feed and seed last week, gathering up dozens of packets of vegetable and flower seeds to use for her garden in Oregon. These were safely packed in the crate that contained her fabrics and linens. It still amazed her to think of what her new home might be like…one day. Right now it seemed a distant dream. First they had many, many miles to travel and many, many days to pass. And she was no fool—she knew that it would not be easy. Her simple prayer was that they would make it. All of them.

  After several hours of travel, they stopped for a midday meal. Clara and Elizabeth had packed a basket of sandwiches wrapped in brown paper and two jars of fruit preserves, which they shared together alongside the road. During this break, Clara checked some of the food crates, curious to see how her other carefully packed preserves were faring. Fortunately, not one jar had broken. Clara knew they would need to be consumed early in their journey or risk perishing, but she had not wanted to leave the carefully preserved foods behind.

  “How long until we get to Paducah?” Ruth asked as they were loading back into the wagons.

  Elizabeth laughed. “We’ll get there when we get there. And if I were you, I wouldn’t fret over how long any part of this trip will take.”

  “We’ll be there before dark,” Asa promised as he helped Clara into the wagon.

  “Will we sleep in our wagon tonight?” Ruth asked Elizabeth as they began to rumble along again.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Why not?” Ruth sounded disappointed now.

  “Because your grandmother preferred we stay in a hotel.”

  “But I want to sleep in the wagon,” Ruth protested.

  “Trust me, dear daughter, you will have plenty of nights to sleep in the back of the wagon once we’re on the Oregon Trail. Until then, you should just count your blessings.”

  “Uncle Matthew said he and Brady are going to sleep with the wagons tonight,” Jamie informed her. “Can I stay with them?”

  “I don’t know…let me think about that.” The idea of Jamie sleeping in the back of a wagon parked in a busy town like Paducah was a bit unsettling. Still, she knew that there would be many new challenges to face in the upcoming months. Perhaps she should simply get used to it.

  It was just getting dark when they arrived in Paducah. They took the wagons directly to the livery stable that Asa had reserved with a telegram a couple of weeks ago. Then Clara took Ruth across the street to the hotel where they’d reserved rooms, and the fellows began to remove harnesses and yokes and see to the comforts of the livestock. Elizabeth, wanting to do her part, began to fill a feed bag.

  “I’ll do that, ma’am.” Brady set down a harness and took the grain bucket from her.

  “Looks like you folks must have quite a trip ahead of you,” one of the stable hands said. “Going west?”

  “We are,” Asa confirmed as he tossed some more hay in front of the horses.

  “Why don’t you head on back to the hotel,” Matthew told Elizabeth. “We can finish up from here.”

&nbs
p; “I want to do my share,” she informed him. “The other livestock still need—”

  “I’ll help tend to them,” Jamie told her in a grown-up-sounding voice. “And I’ll take care of Flax too.”

  “We got plenty of hands here,” Brady told her.

  Asa nodded. “Go on ahead of us, Lizzie. You ladies can get yourselves some supper at the hotel and put our little Ruthie to bed. She looked mighty tired to me.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “We’ll get ourselves a bite to eat as soon as we finish up here. And don’t you worry about Jamie. I’ll get him safely to your room when we’re done.”

  And so, feeling fairly tired and somewhat hungry, she decided to take her father’s advice without protesting.

  “It seems that life will be much simpler once we’re actually on the Oregon Trail,” Elizabeth told her mother as the three of them sat down at one of the dining tables.

  “I s’pect it’ll be simpler in some ways…harder in others.” Clara smoothed a hand over the checkered tablecloth. “But it was a good day, don’t you think?”

  “Are you too worn out?” Elizabeth asked with concern.

  Clara laughed. “Not at all. I enjoyed the trip.”

  “So did I,” Ruth echoed.

  The waitress came and began telling them their choices, and all three of them decided to have the fried chicken supper.

  Elizabeth felt relieved. “And once we get on the riverboat, it should be somewhat relaxing.”

  “What’s a riverboat like?” Ruth asked.

  “The last time I was on a riverboat was about ten years ago,” Clara told her. “But I will never forget it.” She waved her hand and lowered her voice. “This hotel is very nice, but the riverboat your grandpa and I went on was even fancier. There were thick carpets and beautiful chandeliers and fine furnishings…Oh my, was it nice.”

  Ruth’s eyes grew large. “Will our riverboat be like that?”

  “I don’t know for sure. But I guess we’ll take what we get,” Elizabeth answered.