Wagon Train Wedding

by Rhonda Gibson

  “We have several milk cows. I’ll tell Mr. Philmore that we need to sell one to Flynn so the baby will have fresh milk. The other ladies will understand that the stress of going on this trip and being newly widowed and even more newly married has caused your milk to dry up.”

  Heat filled Cora’s face once more. She looked to her wagon, where Flynn had begun to pack up the meager supplies she’d pulled out. “Thank you. I better get Noah and then head back to my wagon and help Flynn.”

  Cora walked the rest of the way to Sarah’s wagon to collect the baby. She wasn’t sure Sarah’s thinking process was solid, but the other woman was certainly doing a better job raising kids than Cora, so she’d trust Sarah’s wisdom. Whether this worked or not, she could use the extra help with Noah, and in time, she’d learn how to cook over a campfire.

  * * *

  Flynn watched Cora and Sarah return to Sarah’s wagon. He couldn’t help but wonder what the two women had talked about. Had Sarah asked about their marriage? Did she have wifely advice to give? Or had she noticed that Cora wasn’t cut out to travel the Oregon Trail and was telling her there was still time to turn back?

  Lunch had shown him that Cora had no idea how to cook over an open flame. He would never tell Cora that her flapjacks were tasteless or that the bacon had been too stringy, but they were. Even so, a smile touched his lips. Her cooking left much to be desired, but over the last two days he’d come to appreciate his new wife’s grit and determination. While the events of the past few days must have rattled her considerably, she’d consistently maintained her poise and her compassion, showing concern for his and Noah’s needs before ever thinking of herself. He admired his lovely new wife and looked forward to seeing how she’d rise to the various challenges the journey would offer.

  Joe, back from tending to the oxen, slapped him on the back. “Looks like Cora’s gonna be busy with Ma for a little longer. We might as well finish packing up.”

  Flynn grinned. “Then you are just in time. This is the last pan to be put away.” He placed the pan into the wooden crate at his feet.

  The teenager laughed. “I believe you are right.”

  He looked to the young man. Could he trust the boy with his new family? Flynn told himself he could and then said, “I have guard duty tonight. Do you mind sleeping under our wagon while I’m gone?”

  Joe grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask. It’s a lot quieter here than at our wagons.”

  Wagons? Flynn set the wooden crate they’d been using for a chair into the wagon. “How many wagons does your family have?”

  “Two.” Joe poured water into the cooking pit to make sure no sparks were left in the circle of rocks.

  Now, why hadn’t he known that the Philmores had more than one wagon? He’d only known of the one that Cora was visiting.

  “We have the bigger wagon at the back of the train. It has all the store supplies in it,” Joe continued as he put the bucket away. “Pa says we’re going to need everything in that wagon, if we are to make a decent start in Oregon.”

  Flynn had known the Philmores planned to open a store but hadn’t considered they had more than one wagon to get all the necessary supplies there. “I’m surprised your pa let you help me despite having two wagons.”

  “Oh, that’s because my brother Charlie and his friend Mark are taking care of the second wagon.”

  Once more, Joe had revealed how little Flynn knew about the Philmore family. He placed his hands on his hips and grinned. “Joe, how many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  Joe laughed. “Seven. Charlie is the oldest—he’s twenty. And Daniel is the baby—he just turned one.”

  Flynn whistled low between his teeth. “That’s quite an age difference.”

  “Yep, but Pa says God gives children when He’s ready and not a minute sooner.” Joe grinned. “I’ll go get the oxen and get them teamed up. You do want me to drive this afternoon, don’t you?” He waited with a serious look on his face. Now that he was talking about the job he was hired for, Joe looked older and more responsible.

  Tying the flap closed on the wagon, Flynn nodded. “Yes, but I think we’ll start walking along beside the team instead of riding. Our extra weight doesn’t seem that much for the animals to pull now, but as we journey, and they start to wear out, lightening their load just that small bit could make the difference in making it to Oregon or not.”

  Joe nodded his agreement. “Pa and Charlie were saying the same thing last night. I suppose all the men will be walking soon.” The boy turned and headed to where the oxen were staked out, eating fresh spring grass.

  Life on the Oregon Trail was definitely different from when he was traveling alone on the trail of a bad guy. Here Flynn had to think about others and how his actions would affect them.

  His gaze moved about the camp. Women, men and children busily packed their things back into the wagons. He could see and hear the herds of cattle being rounded up and driven into position to leave. Somewhere nearby, chickens squawked and clucked. Flynn wondered if the birds would make it to Oregon or if they were intended for the cooking pot somewhere along the trail.

  He looked over at the Philmore wagon once more. Cora hurried toward him with Noah on her hip. The little boy looked sleepy. His little head rested on Cora’s shoulder.

  When she got close enough to him, Cora exclaimed, “I’m sorry, Flynn. I meant to be back in plenty of time to put away camp.”

  “No harm done. How was your visit with Mrs. Philmore?” He admired the sprinkling of freckles across her nose.

  Cora smiled. “It was good. She has agreed to teach me how to cook so that you don’t starve to death on the trail.”

  How did a man answer that? If he said he was glad, she might take offense and think he thought her cooking was bad—which it was, though he wouldn’t say that. If he told Cora that she didn’t need the lessons because her cooking wasn’t that terrible, she might take him at his word and he’d have to eat whatever she dished up. Flynn decided to answer with what he thought his own father would have said to his mother to get out of trouble. “If that’s what you think is best, then good.”

  “I do. You weren’t the only one who had to choke down that lunch.” Her eyes sparkled happily for the first time since he’d met her. A dimple showed in her left cheek when she smiled broadly.

  Flynn liked this relaxed, smiling Cora. “Do you mind if I walk with you this afternoon? We have a few things to talk about, but first I need to help Joe with the oxen.”

  “I would like that.” Her words had come out soft and she ducked her head, but not before he saw pink color enter her cheeks.

  “Good. I’ll join you and Noah as soon as we get going.”

  He found himself hurrying through his work. He and Joe had worked side by side as they prepared to leave camp. He retied the canvas flaps to keep dust from billowing into the wagon. Then he checked the ropes that held the water barrel onto the side of the wagon, surprised and pleased that Cora had filled it to the brim. Not that they had used much of it thus far, but still, she had contributed to the work.

  His thoughts strayed to the talk he planned to have with Cora. Would she have the answers he needed? Was she just as concerned as he about their future? Flynn worried about their provisions and pondered what to do about the problem. If he understood correctly, it could take a full month to get to the first fort, where they would be able to stock up.

  Thirty minutes later, he heard the “move out” call come down the line. He joined Cora beside the wagon as Joe maneuvered the oxen into line. She had put the baby in the sling and cradled him in front of her. Her hair looked freshly combed and she’d put it up in a knot on the back of her head. The style made her look younger. For the first time, he questioned how much younger she was than his twenty-five years.

  Cora placed a soft hand on his forearm. “Everything all right?” When he glanced down a
t her hand, she hastily drew it away, coloring fiercely.

  “Right as rain.” In an effort to relieve her embarrassment, he reached for her hand. He gestured to those walking in front of them. Couples holding hands, laughing, spirits high. He slowed his steps to match hers. A feeling of rightness he couldn’t explain stirred in his chest. She squeezed his hand gently and all the worries and fears fled right out of his mind. He decided right then and there that he’d live in the moment and let the rest take place at will.

  His gaze moved to Noah. The baby slept soundly in his mother’s arms. “He’s nine months, right? Isn’t he a little old for that sling?”

  Cora shook her head. “No. Thankfully, Noah is small for his age, so he fits nicely, but I’m not sure for how much longer. He’s already pulling up when I set him down. He will be walking in no time. He’s already a pretty good crawler.”

  “And running will come not long after. If I remember correctly, my little sister ran our ma’s poor legs off when she started walking good.” He missed his family and wondered what they would think if they knew he’d married. Flynn had sent a letter off before leaving, telling his parents he was headed to Oregon, but that was before he’d met Cora and married. His sister had married last summer and, thankfully, lived close to his parents. Flynn had always worried that he’d have to stop being a lawman and work his father’s ranch once his pa got too old to work it. Now his brother-in-law worked side by side with Pa and learned whatever he needed to inherit the family ranch.

  “You have a sister?” Sorrow filled Cora’s voice, as well as curiosity.

  Flynn wondered at the sadness in Cora’s tone when just a few moments before she’d been happy. “I do. She’s five years younger than me. Do you have any sisters?”

  She started to nod and then shook her head. At his confused look, Cora answered, “I did, but she died recently.” Her throat sounded as if it had closed on the word died. Grief filled her face and eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” He saw Joe coax the oxen to turn the wagon along with the others. The young man was doing a fine job.

  Cora cleared her throat and sniffled. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  So much for learning about her family. But his curiosity wasn’t as important as talking about their supply situation. As a lawman, he was used to eating dried jerky and beans, so the thought of preparing full meals hadn’t been his goal when he’d bought his supplies. Now, with a family, it was obvious they’d need more. “I noticed that we are low on supplies and wondered if you had noticed it, too.”

  She inhaled and released the air in her lungs. Was she relieved to learn the reason for their talk? If so, why? What had she thought he wanted to talk about? Flynn turned his attention back to her.

  “I did notice. We have plenty of salted bacon, beans and coffee, thanks to you, but our rice, flour, spices, cornmeal and sugar are trivial. Mr. Clarkson gave me enough for one person but did not consider you or baby Noah. Also, we have no dried fruit, eggs, nuts or milk. So desserts are out of the question at this time.”

  Flynn sighed. Just as he’d figured. He had been so concerned for her and the baby that he hadn’t noticed what Mr. Clarkson had thrown at her feet. Now he knew it wasn’t much. “Well, we will make the best of it. I’ll see if I can’t buy a milk cow from one of the other families.”

  “You might ask Mr. Philmore. Sarah said something about telling him to sell us one.” She lifted the baby slightly as if to take some of his weight off her shoulders.

  So that was one of the things she and Sarah had talked about. Flynn should have known Cora was in search of a means to get the baby more nourishment. “I’ll do that this evening.”

  “With a milk cow, the baby will have milk to drink and I can hang some on the side of the wagon in the mornings. Sarah says the jostling will make butter during the day and we can have it with our dinner. She also suggested that I make extra beans and meat at the evening meal so that we can have leftovers for breakfast and lunch.” She moved the blanket closer to Noah’s face to block out the sun.

  Flynn realized he had his hat to shade his face, Noah had the blanket, but Cora wasn’t wearing a bonnet like the other women. He worried her face would sunburn. “Do you have a bonnet?” The question seemed to take them both by surprise.

  “No. I looked in my things, but I guess I forgot to pack one.” Again, her face filled with color and she looked away. Was she lying to him? How did one forget their head covering? His hat went everywhere with him, except to bed.

  The thought came to him that Cora might have to ask one of the women for a spare bonnet. Probably Sarah Philmore. While he was grateful for the Philmores’ kindness, it grated at Flynn to feel like he and his family were so ill prepared. They didn’t have proper supplies for this trip. If only he’d known he would have two other people to take care of, Flynn was sure he’d have brought more staples for the journey.

  Chapter Seven

  Cora sighed with weariness. Four weeks had passed since they’d left Independence and she was sick of eating beans, biscuits and bacon, but she thanked the Lord that the quality had improved, if not the variety. Her baking over the campfire was getting better: the biscuits could now be eaten completely and not just the tops. At first, Flynn had tried to eat the burnt bottoms, but even he had to admit they were too charred to consume.

  She walked beside Martha, who pulled her thoughts away from her sadness over the meals they had eaten.

  The young woman fussed. “I can’t get the older kids to take me seriously and the younger ones’ attention spans are about as long as a lightning bug’s flash.”

  Cora grinned. “That’s pretty good.”

  Martha frowned at her. “What is good about that? Nothing I just said is good. The kids are wild. They don’t listen to me.”

  “The comparison between their attention spans and the lightning bug’s flash, that was very good.” Cora tried to get the girl to smile but it was no use. Martha was tired and her siblings weren’t helping her, with their unwillingness to focus and learn.

  Martha sighed heavily. “Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a teacher. Maybe I should work on my sewing skills and open a dress shop next to Ma and Pa’s store.”

  Cora nodded, knowing it would help Martha if she took her young friend seriously. “That’s a thought. Do you enjoy sewing?”

  Martha shrugged. “Not as much as I like learning and teaching new things.”

  “Hmm...” Cora paused. “Well, maybe what you should do is establish some rules. When I was teaching, I had rules—and consequences if my students broke the rules. They either took their punishments or I spoke to their parents.”

  Martha laughed bitterly. “My students’ parents are my parents. Ma would just say it was my problem and that I need to deal with the kids. She’d say she wouldn’t be around when I’m actually in a schoolhouse.”

  They continued walking in silence. The clouds overhead were darkening as the afternoon progressed. Cora hoped it wouldn’t rain until after supper. She looked to the miserable girl beside her. “Have you started their lessons at the same time each evening?”

  Martha shook her head. “No. By the time I get them settled, we’ve wasted a good thirty minutes. Then it’s never long before Pa says it’s time for everyone to be in bed, so we’re not getting much teaching or learning time in.”

  Cora realized that Martha hadn’t been following their original plans. She’d been taking care of Noah and the other children but hadn’t been using her time wisely and thought she could cram lessons in after supper. She smiled. Martha’s sisters knew when their pa would stop the lessons each evening, and they’d obviously figured out that if they played around long enough, they wouldn’t have to be in school long. “I have an idea. Instead of walking with me in the afternoons, can you walk with me in the mornings?”

  Martha looked at her curiously. “I’d have to check with Ma, b
ut I don’t think she’d mind. Why?”

  “Well, if we discussed your teaching in the mornings, then you could teach the children in the afternoon. You’d have to make a game of it and ask your ma to make sure the kids know that afternoons are now schooltime. Then, in the evening, those who didn’t pay attention during schooltime would have to make up their lessons, giving up their playtime.” She watched as a streak of lightning crossed the sky. A few moments later, thunder sounded in the distance.

  Martha’s gaze followed hers to the darkening sky. “Looks like we might get rained on.”

  Cora prayed they wouldn’t. “Let’s hope not.”

  “What kinds of games would I play? I’m sure Ma will ask.” Martha balanced her paper and book as they walked. She held a pencil over her paper, waiting for Cora to answer.

  “How about you sing the alphabet, then maybe stop for a moment and draw with your fingers whichever letter you are working on in the dirt. You could then catch up to your wagon and play a game like ‘I spy.’” Cora’s mind raced with other possibilities, but she needed to go slowly so that Martha could keep up as she wrote.

  “What’s ‘I spy’?” Martha asked, looking up from her writing.

  “Really? You’ve never played ‘I spy’?”

  The girl shook her head.

  “Okay, we’ll play right now. Let’s say we are working on the letter N. I spy with my little eye something that starts with the letter N. Now you look around and find something that starts with the letter N. If you guess what I spy, then you get to spy something new that starts with the letter N. Stay focused on the letter N throughout the game.”

  Martha nodded. “I see.” She looked about and then grinned. “My nose?”

  Cora laughed. “No. Try again.”

  “The back of Mr. Adams’s neck?”

  Cora shook her head. “No. Try again.”

  Martha then laughed. “Noah?”

  “Yes, Noah. See how fun that is? You had to think of the letter N and words that began with that letter.” Cora cradled the baby to her. He was growing, thanks to the milk and corn bread, cornmeal mush and other soft foods he was eating. As a result, Noah was getting heavier each day.