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

by Murata, Victoria

  Kate jumped up. “Well enough! Is that all you can say, Michael Flannigan?”

  Michael pulled her back down next to him. “Calm down, Kate. What’s troubling you?”

  “I can see the writing on the wall, Michael. He loves her, and I think she loves him too!”

  “Well, and so?”

  “Ben Hansson is a nice boy, but he’s not a Catholic. I want Brenna to find a good Catholic man.”

  “Oh, I see.” Michael looked thoughtful. After a minute when he hadn’t responded, Kate exploded.

  “Well, what do you think, Michael Flannigan?”

  Michael looked at her quickly and put his thumb and index finger on his chin.

  “Well, let’s see now. Who could we find for Brenna? Well, now, there’s Mr. Banks. He’s a Catholic.”

  “What! Have you gone off your head?” Kate exclaimed when she pictured Mr. Banks, forty-five at least, with two missing front teeth and an affinity for whiskey.

  “I guess he is a little old for Brenna.”

  “Humph.”

  “There must be someone else. Let’s see.” Michael paused, deep in thought. Suddenly he brightened. “How about Clem Morris? He’s young. And he’s Catholic, too.”

  “Argh!” Kate groaned. Clem was a little older than Brenna. He chewed tobacco and had stains down the front of the only shirt he ever wore, and it looked like he hadn’t washed since Independence. “That boy is allergic to soap and water, and he’s not too bright, either.”

  “Aye, but he’s Catholic!” Michael exclaimed happily.

  “I see what you’re about, Michael Flannigan,” Kate said testily.

  “What do you mean?” he said innocently.

  “You’re baiting me, Michael, and I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you about our daughter.”

  Michael sighed then. “Katie, if we were back in Ireland, things would be different. But we’re not. What do you want for Brenna? Do you want her to grow into a spinster waiting for the right Catholic man to come along?”

  “No, Michael, of course not, but…”

  “She and Ben make each other happy. He’s a good and kind man. Isn’t that enough given where we are and where we’re going?” Michael paused. “Besides, I’ve had a talk with him. He’s willing to convert.”

  Kate’s eyes grew large. “You talked to him? And you didn’t tell me?” She threw herself at Michael tipping him off balance, and they both ended up on the ground laughing like children. When Brenna walked into the camp, that’s what she saw.

  “Ma, Da, why are you rolling around on the ground laughing?”

  “Never mind, Brenna. I’m just teaching your mother patience and charity.”

  “Oh, I never…” Kate said as she attempted to get up.

  “Och, the lesson isn’t over yet my girl,” and he pulled her back down and the two of them collapsed into each other giggling.

  Very strange, Brenna thought, shaking her head. Sometimes her parents didn’t make any sense.

  Bear Encounter

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Crossing the Blue Mountains

  Emily looked at her hands. They were red, raw, and blistered. “Mr. Hinton used to say I had the prettiest hands he’d ever seen. Now look at them!”

  The ascent of the Blue Mountains had been very difficult in places. The trail was rocky and heavily timbered, and the thirty-four wagons that were left in the wagon train proceeded one at a time. At one point, the whole wagon train was held up for hours while the men removed a large tree that had fallen across the trail. Today they had begun the steep descent. All of the adults helped each other get the wagons down to more level ground. Emily and Abel, with the aid of a few others, had strained against the ropes tied to the back of the wagon, trying to keep it from hurtling downhill.

  “Mr. Brown?” Emily held out her palms.

  Abel Brown paid no attention to Emily. He was bent over a notebook he kept with notations and sums. He was trying to collect on the I.O.U.s he had accumulated from many of the men who had joined one or more of his poker games over the course of the last months. Some of them were able to pay. Some claimed their money was gone. When Abel exerted a little pressure, a few of those would manage to scrounge up the money, or some of it. A few who owed him considerable amounts were going to repay him by deeding their newly acquired Oregon land to him after they made their claims.

  “Are you listening to me, Mr. Brown?” Emily asked. “I cannot do another day with those ropes. All my gloves are ruined. Look at my hands!” she exclaimed as she held them out for Abel’s scrutiny.

  Abel looked up from his notebook. “Yes, I see your hands, Emily. What do you want me to do about it?” He snapped. The qualities he had originally found charming in Emily were now annoying. She seemed to be always complaining about one thing or another.

  “I’m your wife. I expect you to take care of me!”

  Abel sighed loudly. He knew he would have no rest until Emily had an answer she was happy with. “Okay, okay, Emily. What do you want me to do?” He was attempting to keep his voice calm.

  “I want you to hire one more man to help us besides Dan Christopher.” Dan had lost his wagon and stock in a river crossing. Abel decided Dan should help them in return for payment of his gambling debt. He figured that since Dan had lost everything, he would never see any money from Christopher, so he may as well use him as much as he could.

  “What other man? Everyone has their own wagons to worry about,” Abel said crossly.

  “Hire Clem Morris. He’s been freeloading off of people since he lost everything in that fire.”

  Abel groaned under his breath. Clem Morris was an unkempt young man who didn’t seem to have any skills. His wagon had gone up in flames one night a few weeks back when he built his campfire too close. He had said he was using the wagon as a windbreak so his fire wouldn’t go out. Clem never joined the poker games, so Abel would have to pay him, and he was loathe to part with any of his money. But he could think of no one else who didn’t have his hands full. Abel sighed again. Emily’s hands were ruined. He knew she wouldn’t be able to manage the ropes again and they still had a ways to go to get down from these mountains. He cursed under his breath.

  “All right, Emily. I’ll talk to Clem in the morning.”

  The wagon train was camped in a circular valley surrounded by pine, cedar, and fir trees. While everyone attended to chores, the younger children amused themselves in a game of keep-away. Shouts and squeals of delight came from the meadow. Kate and Brenna Flannigan were making bread and discussing Emily Brown.

  “Did you see her today? She was working very hard to keep their wagon from tumbling downhill. I’ve never seen her work like that before,” Brenna remarked. She and Emily had become friends and shared conversations about the books Brenna was borrowing from her.

  “Yes, things have changed for her since Mr. Hinton passed,” Kate said. “I think Mr. Brown is hard on her. I know she’s spoiled, but Mr. Brown could help her out a little. He seems to have a lot of money.”

  “I wish Miss Nellie was still with her,” Brenna said. She would look after her and make sure she was treated kindly.”

  “You don’t think Mr. Brown is abusive?” Kate asked.

  Brenna was thoughtful for a moment. She hadn’t told anyone what Emily had confided to her. “Not physically, but there are other ways a man can be hard on a woman. He seems to have an advantage over her. If he wants something, she jumps, and that’s not like Emily.”

  “Why did she marry Mr. Brown?”

  Brenna carefully worded her reply. “From what she’s told me, he proposed and she felt that she didn’t have any options. She’s beautiful, a young widow with no family, and little money. She feels she doesn’t have anyone to turn to or any place to go. Mr. Brown seems to have plenty of money, so he can take care of her.”

  “Someone said he’s very good at cards, and many men owe him money from their losses. I wonder if Ernest Hinton owed him money. Get me a li
ttle more milk, Brenna.”

  Suddenly there was an urgent shout from the direction of the meadow. Shrill screams followed, and Brenna and Kate ran around the wagon to see what was happening. Brenna gasped when she saw a large bear on all fours running through the meadow towards the children. She was amazed at how quickly the bear closed the gap between itself and one of the boys whose red hair was streaming back as he ran as fast as he could. His skinny legs and arms were pumping furiously, but he was no match for the speed and power of the bear. Brenna screamed when the bear crashed into the boy sending him sprawling, and she heard her mother scream, “Tommy!” At the same time, a shot rang out. Brenna looked in the direction of the sound and saw Ben Hansson kneeling at the edge of the meadow loading his rifle again. The bear roared and stood up on its hind legs looking in the direction from where the sound of the report had come. Bright red blood poured from its shoulder. The boy was lying lifeless, his small frame swallowed in the grass. Ben took aim and fired his gun again. The bullet tore into the bear’s neck and its angry roar filled the meadow. It looked at Ben, and even from a distance, Brenna could see the menace in its small eyes. It then dropped on all fours and ran towards Ben at a furious pace.

  “Ben!” Brenna screamed.

  Ben was loading his rifle calmly. He raised it, took careful aim, and fired when the bear was twenty feet away. Another shot followed closely behind Ben’s, and the bear fell heavily to the earth, sliding in the dirt and ending up ten feet from where Ben still knelt in the grass.

  “Ben! Ben!” Brenna screamed as she ran to him. Others were running towards the children. It had all happened so suddenly. A few of the men were standing close to the bear with their guns pointed at it when Brenna ran up and threw her arms around Ben. She was overcome with emotion, and she couldn’t speak, but her tears flowed freely.

  “It’s okay, Brenna. I’m okay.” His arm went around her and she felt him shaking.

  “That’s a big bear you brought down, Ben,” one of the men said. “I do believe it’s dead!”

  Captain Wyatt rode up on his horse. He still had his rifle drawn, and it was his gun that had fired right after Ben’s.

  “That’s a grizzly bear, Ben. They can be pretty mean and aggressive. That was a brave thing you did.”

  Then everyone’s attention turned toward the meadow. Thomas Benson was picking up the limp form of his youngest son, Tommy, whose red hair was bright in the sunset.

  “Oh no! Not Tommy!” Brenna cried.

  Everyone made their way to where Thomas stood holding Tommy who, miraculously, was stirring.

  “He’s had the wind knocked out of him, but I think he’ll be okay,” Thomas said shakily. Tommy was coming around and he looked groggily at everyone. Ruth and Mary Benson ran up, and Ruth threw her arms around the thin boy.

  “Tommy! Are you all right?” she cried.

  “My head hurts,” Tommy replied.

  “That’s what you get for wrestling with a bear!” Mary piped, and some of the men laughed with relief.

  Hans Hansson walked up and clapped his son on the back. “You’ve been a crack shot since you were twelve. Good shooting, son.” Everyone congratulated Ben, who was still shaken by the whole thing. Brenna would not let go of him. She was trembling. Just a few moments ago, she was helping her mother make bread. It could have gone differently.

  Captain Wyatt spoke from his horse. “We need to be extra careful in this heavy timber. This bear attack was unusual, and I don’t want to scare anyone more than they already are, but this is grizzly country. There’s other wild animals too—black bear, mountain lions, bobcats. Just be vigilant.” He turned his attention back to Ben. “When did you see the bear?”

  “I was working from the back of the wagon and watching the youngsters playing when I saw him come out of those trees over yonder,” Ben said indicating the dark trees to the left. I shouted at the children to warn them, and they screamed and scattered when it growled. I guess that attracted the bear and he chased after them. My Sharps was in the back of the wagon and it was loaded, so I took aim and shot him, but I must have missed.”

  “You didn’t miss, son. You hit him but you didn’t kill him,” Captain Wyatt said. “You did get his attention, though. It was your third shot that killed him. Mine was just extra.” Everyone chuckled.

  “Ben, I don’t know how to thank you,” Thomas Benson said. “If it hadn’t been for you, Tommy might…” His voice trailed off.

  “Thanks, Ben,” Tommy said tremulously.

  Ben ruffled Tommy’s hair. “You were running pretty fast, Tommy. I think you could’ve outrun him if your legs were a few inches longer.” Everyone laughed as they headed back to their wagons with their children safely in their arms.

  Brenna still clung to Ben’s arm. She couldn’t stop shaking. He turned to her and brushed the hair from her eyes. He regarded her solemnly.

  “I’m alright, Brenna.”

  “Yes. Yes, I know that,” she said, her tears flowing again.

  “Then what is it?”

  Her intense blue eyes looked into his. “I was making bread five minutes ago,” she said. Her voice had an urgency that he didn’t understand. Ben tilted his head and looked at her, trying to understand her. The meadow was empty except for the two of them. The last rays of the sun created a halo behind her riotous dark hair. “That’s how quickly things can change. What if you hadn’t been working at the back of your wagon? What if you hadn’t had your rifle right there?” She was gripping his arm tightly. “What if you hadn’t been able to load your gun the third time?”

  “But I did, Brenna,” Ben said quietly.

  “Yes, I know that!” she cried. “But will it happen this way the next time?” Her face was streaked with tears. Ben folded her in his arms.

  “Brenna, we can’t think like that. If we do, we’ll never have the courage to do anything.”

  “Marry me, Ben.” Her words were muffled in his shirt, but he heard what she said. He pushed her at arm’s length and looked at her closely. She noted the characteristic twinkle in the corners of his eyes. He smiled broadly then, his eyes slanting upwards.

  “I think I’m supposed to ask that question of you,” he said sweetly.

  “I don’t care, Ben. I just know that I want to be with you always. I want to be your wife and have your children,” Brenna said passionately.

  “Whoa! Let’s not have children just yet.” He suddenly grew serious. “For now, let’s say we’re engaged, and if you still feel the same way about me when we get to Oregon City, I’ll ask you properly.”

  He bent his head and gently kissed Brenna. It was the seal on a verbal contract that she had every intention of holding him to in Oregon City.

  Medicine Bag

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Umatilla

  September 24, 1852

  Mile 1769

  The wagon train was on a much-needed lay-by after crossing the Blue Mountains. The ascent had been difficult, with everyone having to help each other get the wagons up the steep and rocky trail. Then the descent had been treacherous. Ropes had been tied to the backs of wagons to keep them from hurtling downhill. People and stock were exhausted. When Captain Wyatt announced the lay-by, a few of the travelers objected.

  “We’re so close. I say we push on through!” one man said vehemently. Others were agreeing.

  “This is not a vote, Mr. Peters,” Captain Wyatt said evenly. “We’ll spend a day here and rest up for the final leg of this journey. We’re still two weeks from The Dalles. Then we’ll either float down the Columbia River to Fort Vancouver or take the Barlow pass over the mountains. We’ve had it easy compared to what’s up ahead.”

  Everyone looked nervously at one another. They had grown to respect Captain Wyatt, and no one said another word of objection.

  In the Benson’s camp, Ruth was nursing baby Mattie and keeping a watchful eye on the pot bubbling over the fire. Deborah wanted attention from her mother, but Ruth was trying to prepare dinner
and take care of the fretful infant. “Deborah, stop pestering me! Can’t you see I’m busy? Now go and find Tommy.”

  “My head hurts, and I hurt my biggest toe…see?” Ruth barely glanced at the petulant girl. This had been a regular scenario since Mattie was born. Every day Deborah had a new complaint. Ruth was amazed at how many problems a four-year-old could come up with. If it wasn’t a physical ailment, it was boredom, or Tommy was teasing her, or the horse had looked at her funny.

  She had expected two-year-old Annie to be the one to protest the new addition to the family, but Annie had turned into her mother’s little helper, wanting to be close to Mattie, her new sister. Ruth was pleased that Annie was so enamored with the baby, but it was frustrating to have her underfoot all day long, insisting on helping with all of the baby tasks and keeping up a steady stream of mostly indecipherable conversation. Mattie was colicky, and although Rebecca and Mary were helpful, Ruth was the only one who could feed her, and it seemed like this baby wanted to be fed every waking moment.

  “Deborah, go and find Tommy or Mary. They can look at your toe and wash it for you.”

  Deborah shook her head, her blond curls bobbing. “Mary’s not here. I don’t want my toe washed. That will hurt. I need some medicine,” Deborah whined.

  “Don’t be silly, child. You don’t need medicine. Tell Rebecca to come and take the baby. I have to get dinner ready.” Ruth frowned at the stormy face of her third youngest. It had been a long day, and there were still many chores to do before she would be able to catch a few hours of sleep. She was in no mood for Deborah’s theatrics.

  Deborah opened her mouth to protest, but Ruth was quicker. “Go, Deborah. Find Rebecca.”

  Deborah stuck her lower lip out as far as she could, but her mother wasn’t looking. She turned and left the campsite, shoulders sagging, small feet dragging in the dirt.

  She found Rebecca with James Cardell, Sam, and her father. They were all attempting to settle the colt so that Thomas could doctor its foot.