Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852

by Murata, Victoria

  “How much longer, Dad?” Mary asked her father nervously as another cry came from within the wagon. Her freckles stood out against her pale face. She hated hearing her mother in distress. She remembered Annie’s birth almost two years earlier. It hadn’t seemed to take as long. Today had dragged on forever as her mother labored to bring the new little one into the world.

  “It’s hard to say, Mary. Annie was pretty quick. Deborah took a lot longer.” They were sitting next to the wagon. Thomas had rigged a makeshift tarp to shield them from the rain. Still, they were all in various stages of wet. On hearing her name, Deborah looked up from the intricate but unidentifiable drawing she was creating with a stick pencil in the mud. Her blue eyes were round.

  “Is Mommy crying?”

  Thomas shifted a sleeping Annie in his arms. “No, Deborah, she’s just pushing the baby out. It won’t be much longer.”

  “Can I go in the wagon?” the four-year-old pleaded.

  “Not yet. There’s no room for us in there.”

  Rebecca was in the cramped wagon with Ruth, and Kate Flannigan had been checking in every hour during the evening since they had made camp. Tommy and Sam were doing the evening chores, happy to be away from the drama playing out inside the wagon.

  “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Mary asked.

  “I want a baby brother,” Deborah said petulantly. She still hadn’t gotten over Annie’s birth and all the attention her little sister had stolen from her.

  “Your mother thinks it will be a girl, and she’s been right every time.”

  “How does she know?” Mary queried.

  Thomas yawned. “I have no idea. Women’s intuition I guess.”

  “What’s into….into…?” Deborah asked.

  “Intuition,” Thomas replied. “Hmm…it’s when you know something without having the facts that tell you that it’s true, and then it turns out to be true later.”

  “Like a mystery that solves itself?” Mary asked.

  “No, not a mystery. It’s like when you have a feeling something’s going to happen and then your feeling is correct.”

  There was another cry from inside the wagon. They could hear Rebecca’s voice gently encouraging.

  “Like when I had a feeling I was going to be sick and then I was,” Mary pronounced.

  “No, it’s not a physical feeling. It’s a feeling in your head— your mind. Remember a couple of weeks ago when Tommy had a feeling about the rocks we were camped close to? He felt they weren’t safe to climb on, and later the Harmon boy was bit by a rattlesnake?”

  “Yes! I wanted to play on those rocks and Tommy wouldn’t let me!”

  “That’s right, Mary. He had a feeling—an intuition—that something was wrong.”

  “But Tommy isn’t a woman. How does he have intuition?”

  Thomas chuckled. “Everybody has it sometimes. Women just listen to it more often.”

  Mary frowned. “They listen? Does it have a voice?”

  “Shhh!” Deborah said. Her earnest mud-smeared face looked at them seriously. “I hear it. It’s whispering.”

  Mary giggled. Her little sister looked so intense. “What’s whispering, Deborah?”

  “Into-ishen. It’s telling me something. Shhh!” Her finger went to her lips to silence them.

  A prolonged low cry came from the wagon followed by a lusty baby’s protest mingled with Rebecca’s excited voice. “It’s a girl, Ma. Oh, she’s beautiful!”

  Thomas rested the back of his head against the wagon and closed his eyes.

  “Thanks be to God for this healthy baby, and thank you Lord for taking care of Ruth.”

  “Can we see her now, Dad?” Mary asked excitedly.

  “In a few minutes. Rebecca and your mother still have some work to do.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “They have to get the baby and your ma cleaned up and ready for company.”

  At that moment, Kate Flannigan walked into camp. “Well, I guess I’m not needed here.” The baby was crying lustily.

  “It’s a girl,” Deborah said half-heartedly, her attention on her mud drawing again.

  “Aren’t you excited about your new little sister, Deborah?” Kate asked teasingly.

  “I already have a little sister. I wanted a little brother. I don’t have one of those yet.” They all chuckled, relieved that Ruth’s long labor was over.

  “Thomas, let me take Annie to my camp. She can spend the night with us and it will be one less thing you’ll have to worry about.”

  “Thank you, Kate.” Thomas gratefully handed the sleeping child over.

  “And Mary, you come too after you visit the new sister. Annie will be more comfortable if you are with her, and you can visit with Brenna and Conor.” Kate turned to leave and paused. “Have you named the baby yet?”

  “Mattie,” Deborah said absently, applying finishing touches to her drawing.

  Kate looked to Thomas for confirmation. “What a lovely name!”

  Thomas shrugged and looked at the four-year-old. “Where did you hear that name, Deborah?”

  Deborah stopped her drawing and put down her stick pencil. “My into-ishen told me,” she replied solemnly.

  Mary laughed along with Kate and Thomas. “I’m going to go and find Tommy and Sam. They’ll want to see Mattie,” Mary said giggling, and she skipped off in the light drizzle.

  “Who wants to see the baby?” Rebecca called. Thomas jumped up and picked up Deborah. He, Deborah, and Kate, who was holding a sleeping Annie, looked through the canvas opening at mother and baby. The small and very pink newborn was quietly nursing.

  “She’s tiny but strong,” Ruth said, smiling tenderly at the new little life.

  “Her lungs are really strong,” Thomas replied.

  “Look at all of that lovely hair!” Kate exclaimed.

  “She took a while to get here,” Rebecca said, “but she’s healthy and hungry!”

  Thomas watched his wife gently cradling the new little baby. Rebecca leaned over and stroked the tiny head. “You were a big help, Rebecca,” he said.

  “I didn’t really do anything. Ma did it all!”

  Tommy, Sam, and Mary ran into camp, and Thomas and Kate stepped aside so they could see.

  “Is it over? Are you okay, Ma?” Tommy asked breathlessly.

  “Yes, son, everyone is fine.”

  “Please tell me it’s a boy. There are too many girls around here,” he said playfully with a sidelong look at Mary.

  “You’re outnumbered again, Tommy. It’s a girl!” Mary said triumphantly.

  Tommy didn’t look too disappointed as he watched his newest little sister drifting off to sleep.

  “What’s her name, Ma?” Sam asked reverently.

  “I’m going to name her Martha after my mother,” Ruth said. “We’ll call her Mattie.”

  Thomas and Kate looked from Ruth to Deborah incredulously.

  “How? What?” Thomas blubbered.

  “Don’t ask, Dad,” Mary said sagely, patting his shoulder indulgently. “It’s just that old intuition at work again!”

  Thomas laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. He felt like he had been holding his breath all day, and laughter was a welcomed release. Kate and Mary laughed with him while the others looked at each other, puzzled. Little Mattie was happily oblivious. The day, nearly over, seemed to cheer up too, and a soft rumble of distant thunder announced the end of the rain.

  Wedding Day

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day was a lay-by. Another wagon train had been following theirs, and mid-day it pulled in. There was a lot of visiting and storytelling between the two camps. Travelers traded with each other for supplies that were getting low. Captain Wyatt and Captain Burnett were old friends and they were happy to see each other.

  “It’s been a while, David.”

  “Yes it has.” Captain Wyatt clapped his friend on the back. “I thought you were done with leading trains west, Joe.”

 
; “Well, I thought so too. Turns out my niece and her husband are on this train, and she begged me to captain it. I’ve always been partial to her, so I agreed.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay in Oregon for a while, Joe?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I have a practice in St. Joseph, so I believe I’ll head back next spring.”

  “Joe, I wonder if you would have a little time to spare this evening.”

  “What’s on your mind, David?”

  After they talked for a while, Captain Wyatt went in search of Reverend Mueller. He and John had become good friends, and they had spent more than a few evenings together talking around the campfire.

  “John, Captain Burnett is an old friend of mine. He’s a man of many talents. Besides leading wagon trains, he’s been a farmer, a surveyor, a lawyer, and a judge. In fact, he still practices law and holds court in the states. I asked him if he would be willing to take the time to marry a couple of my people and he agreed. Now you go tell Miss Nellie, and this evening we’ll have a quiet ceremony.”

  John stared at Captain Wyatt. “David, I don’t know what to say!” he exclaimed excitedly.

  “Don’t say anything, John. Go tell your bride!” John was overjoyed! He and Nellie had confided in Captain Wyatt when John had asked Nellie to be his wife a couple of weeks ago. They had thought they would have to wait until they arrived in Oregon City. He could hardly believe sweet Nellie would be his bride tonight! He went to the Hintons’ camp and found her busy with some mending. She saw him approaching and stood up, wondering what the look on his face could mean. He took her hands in his.

  “Nellie, will you be my wife?”

  She looked at John closely. Was he suffering from the heat? “John, I answered you two weeks ago. Do you remember?” Her face showed concern.

  A chuckle escaped from John’s mouth. “How about this evening, Nellie? Will you marry me this evening?”

  “John, what are you saying?”

  “The captain of the wagon train that pulled in is also a judge. He can perform legal ceremonies. Nellie, we don’t have to wait for Oregon City!”

  “Oh, John!” They embraced happily.

  “After the evening meal, Captain Burnett will come over and perform the ceremony. Is that enough time for you to get ready?” He suddenly looked anxious, realizing that women liked to have a lot of time to prepare for things like weddings.

  Nellie laughed. “Yes, John, that’s enough time.”

  That evening in the half light, Captain Burnett joined Nellie and John in matrimony. Nellie looked like a younger version of herself. She had bathed and washed her hair and Emily had fixed it in an elegant coiffure. Emily had also given Nellie a beautiful peach colored dress to wear. They were nearly the same size, and a few nips and tucks had made it fit perfectly. Nellie’s face was slightly flushed and shining. John’s mother, Emily, and Ernest Hinton were the only attendees to the ceremony. It was short, and when it was over and John had kissed his bride, a loud cheer went up. Startled, John and Nellie looked behind them. The whole wagon train—every man, woman, and child—had witnessed their vows from a respectable distance and was cheering for them. After that, they could not avoid the party.

  Mrs. Mueller took Nellie’s hand. “I couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law!”

  Emily gave Nellie a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Nellie.”

  “Thank you, Emily. Our wagon will be next to yours the rest of the way to Oregon, and I intend to help you like I promised your daddy.”

  “Nellie, I can take care of myself and Ernest. You have a new family now.”

  “Nothing has changed, Emily. I am still responsible for you, and I want to help you. You have always been like a daughter to me.”

  The two women embraced tearfully. Soon, everyone came up and hugged the newlyweds and gave them their best wishes. There was music and dancing well into the night.

  “John, these people love you,” Nellie said later, after they had danced many dances.

  “They love us, Nellie. I feel so honored. I can’t believe word got around the camp so quickly. Are you happy?” John asked, looking into her radiant face.

  “More happy than I feel I have a right to be.”

  “Nellie, you have the right to anything you want. I intend for us to be happy for the rest of our lives.”

  Nellie’s heart was full. She had thought she could never love again, and she had been so wrong! She realized that love has no boundaries, and she had enough love to give to everyone. In fact, it felt like the more love she gave, the more she got back.

  Hand in hand, they went to the Muellers’ camp, Nellie’s new home.

  Three Island Crossing

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aug. 20, 1852

  Mile 1398

  James Cardell stood in the dawn light at the back of his wagon with a worried crease between his eyes. He was uneasy. It was August 20, and he had come nearly fifteen hundred miles with his fruit trees. Today would be a difficult crossing. The Snake River was never easy, and with all the recent rain, the river was full and the banks were muddy and slippery. It was divided by two islands into three branches at this point. It was fordable, but the last branch was over a half mile wide with a strong current. Yesterday several of the men had made numerous attempts to swim their cattle over, but none were successful, and several beasts were swept down river and drowned.

  So far, he and his wagons had made every other river crossing, although there had been a few close calls. The wagon train had made camp yesterday afternoon, but most people decided to wait until today to cross the river in hopes that the mud would dry up a bit. He and Slim, his hired hand, had just finished checking the fruit trees, and he was pleased that they were thriving. He had nursed these trees for months, making sure they were watered and pest free. His hope was to duplicate the efforts of Henderson Luelling, who had made the same trip with his trees six years earlier in 1846. He had heard that Luelling’s orchards in Oregon were doing very well.

  James was a dentist by trade, but his passion was gardening, and when he heard the story of Henderson Luelling, he had been consumed with ideas of starting his own orchards in Oregon. He had apple, cherry, pear, plum, and black walnut trees in two wagons that were full of dirt. Most of the other travelers had been by to see the odd sight—some of his trees were sticking out of the sides. Many people were skeptical, but he knew they would change their minds once his orchards were planted.

  His parents had been against his going west. He remembered his father’s disappointment. “You’re a dentist. You have a thriving practice. Why would you want to leave it all to go out west where you don’t know anyone?”

  “I can’t explain it, Dad. It’s a dream I have, and I have to go.”

  “I forbid you to go. Your mother and I sacrificed to send you to school. Your practice is only a few years old, and look how well you’re doing. Forget this foolishness. If you want to grow fruit trees, you can grow them in the garden.”

  “It’s not the same. I don’t want to be just a gardener, Dad. I want to be a farmer.”

  James shook his head slightly, remembering the arguments. His father had encouraged him to become a dentist, and James had dutifully gone to school in Maryland, but it wasn’t what was in his heart. He loved the earth, the rich black smell of it, and the feel of it in his hands when he dug into it. He had a green thumb, and ever since he was old enough to walk, he had spent the greater part of three seasons in the family’s large garden. Everything he planted thrived. He learned when to plant the carrots, potatoes, onions, and turnips and when to harvest them for the best flavor. His mother spent most of the summer and fall putting up his harvest for winter rations. Her pantry was full of jars of pickles, beets, and beans.

  He had studied flowers and had the most beautiful flower garden in all of Illinois. People would come from all over town to marvel at the different blooms and the glorious colors. Nothing gave him more pleasure than watching his garden grow and sharing the
bounty with friends and neighbors.

  He thought of his mother now. She had been as upset as his father had, but she didn’t get angry—just quiet. At first, she had tried to reason with him.

  “James, you’re such a good dentist. Think of all the people who depend on you.”

  “There are other dentists, Mom, good dentists who love their work. I can’t do this. I have to follow my heart.”

  When she realized his mind was made up, she resigned herself to the idea, even though he knew she didn’t like it. He remembered when she looked at him sadly and said, “James, all your people are here.” He had given up trying to explain what he finally came to understand was impossible to convey. How could you explain in words the fire inside of you? How could you explain why you would leave a thriving practice in a town where you knew everyone to travel across an unknown country and start fresh in a place you had never been? No, they didn’t understand. Only one person really did.

  He looked across the way to where the Benson wagon was parked. Most of the family was bustling around getting ready for the day. He spotted Rebecca bending over the fire, and his heart swelled. He could talk to her and she always listened attentively. She knew more about his dream than anyone else did, and she was supportive of him. He watched her stir the pot of porridge, stopping briefly to wipe the face of a small sister.

  He had met the Bensons shortly after the wagon train left Independence. Rebecca had come looking for the dentist because her father had a terrible toothache.

  “How long has the tooth been bothering him?” James asked the comely young woman who had come to find him.

  “For a few days now, but the pain was pretty bad last night,” she had replied.

  “Let me get a few things together and I’ll take a look.”

  James peered into Thomas’s mouth and probed around with a long handled instrument.