Wagon Train Wedding

by Rhonda Gibson

  She then laced the flap back up and went to retrieve Noah. Before she could say anything, Flynn said, “Here, you best take Noah. It’s too cold for him outside.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Thank you for letting me collect the flowers from the girls.” He seemed so pleased with himself, especially after Cora’s praise. The closeness they’d experienced lately filled a spot in Cora’s heart that had felt empty since her parents passed away. And the way he showed her attention in front of others caused her to think her feelings were returned.

  Flynn had grown more important than anyone else in her life other than Noah. She wanted to please him, be around him, share her thoughts and dreams with him. When he was out of sight, she knew the moment he returned even before she actually saw him. The awareness was so strong, it made her heart sing with delight. The little touches of his hand on her arm, the kisses to the top of her head as he looked down on her, all these things were new and exciting, and she thought on them and kept them close in her heart. She loved him, and that knowledge gave her relentless enjoyment.

  * * *

  Flynn drove until they stopped for the evening. Dusk had settled as they unhooked the oxen and led them to water. Even though he was bone tired, his steps were light as he headed back to camp. His thoughts had bounced along with the ruts the wagon hit: happy thoughts and plans and questions. He loved the response from Cora when he showed her attention and he knew he’d never felt this way toward any other woman.

  Because of the narrowness of the trail, they couldn’t park the wagons in a circle and instead left them in a straight line. Some were perched on the side of the mountain coming up one side and going down the other. Flynn had stopped almost in the flat section. His eyes widened when he made it to camp.

  “Is that sourdough bread I smell?” He leaned around Cora to look in the pan. “And cooked apples?” He rubbed his belly. “Ohhhh, we’re eating good tonight. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “Since it’s too cold to walk, I worked in the wagon and used my starter to let the bread swell. I also peeled the apples earlier and they’ve been marinating in sugar and cinnamon. We only have a little meat left and I’m trying to make it last, so I added water to the pot and threw in a few potatoes and a carrot. We’re running out of most all food supplies.” She sucked in her bottom lip, capturing it between her teeth.

  “We’re now only four days away. We’ll have enough.”

  “You think our wagon will hold up?”

  “You saw me checking the wheels, didn’t you?” At her nod, he rushed to assure her, “I did that because we were starting over the mountain. Had there been a safety issue or a need for new spokes, I’d have taken care of it then, but the spokes only needed oiling. We’re in good shape.”

  Flynn took the plate she dished up and they ate in silence. He sopped the last of the stew gravy with his bread and sat back full, his hunger satisfied. “That was one fine meal. I’m thankful that you learned to cook outside over a grate.”

  “Thank you. But give me a little credit—I learned fast. You didn’t have to eat too many burned meals.”

  He chuckled. “That’s true. Thanks to Sarah.”

  He watched her out of the corner of his eye and drew his legs up, laughing when her mouth fell open and she threw the dishcloth at him. Flynn loved how playful Cora had become. She no longer looked over her shoulder, and the fear and panic had vacated her beautiful eyes. He knew she cared about him. What was she going to say when he confessed he cared for her, too, and wanted to remain her husband for the rest of his life?

  * * *

  Much as she loved the beautiful mountains, she’d never been so happy to hear they were nearing the bottom and entering the Willamette Valley. The call came back through the wagons and activity increased. People began to walk beside their wagons, a few even running ahead.

  When Flynn helped her from the wagon and set Noah on his shoulders, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Finally, they had arrived. But Cora wasn’t quite prepared for what she saw.

  Flynn had long since set Noah on the seat beside Joe and he, and Cora continued walking. Suddenly, they weren’t tired, and their walk seemed jubilant. They traveled six or more miles till the wagons began splitting off and going different routes. In those six miles, they passed seven or eight farms. The land was still green and lush, and the houses they passed now were made of planks instead of logs. Most were two stories. There were glass windows and wraparound porches. They crossed a river about two miles in and it had a wooden bridge. A farm near there had a huge gristmill built in the river.

  Flynn raised his eyebrows at her with a huge grin across his face. One farmer’s field lay full of pumpkins and gourds. The air had warmed up considerably once they were off the mountain. Flynn removed his coat, then took her hand. Ahead of them, the Clarksons’ wagon pulled to the side and stopped. Joe followed behind with their wagon. When Cora realized what was happening, a lump lodged in her throat and she bit her lip to keep from crying.

  “Well, my dear friend, this is where we part ways.” Sarah’s voice was suspiciously thick, and she wrapped Cora in a tight hug. “You take good care of yourself and baby Noah, and take good care of your man, you hear?”

  Martha had pulled Noah off the seat and swung him round and round before squeezing him tight and planting kisses all over his face. Then Annie and Harold Clarkson joined the fray, hugging, crying and kissing everyone. Cora couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and cried openly. Noah, seeing her distress, screamed and could not be consoled till everyone started laughing. When her two best friends went in separate directions, reality set in and Cora climbed onto the seat beside Flynn, with a huge weight on her shoulders.

  This was where their arrangement was supposed to end. If he decided to annul the marriage, how would she and Noah make it? And what would she do with this heart full of love for Flynn? She had exactly eleven dollars to her name and didn’t know a soul where they were headed. Flynn had to check in with a sheriff and file a report about Doc, and other than that, he knew no one or nothing about the place, either.

  As they came into the town, Cora felt a bit of hope blossom. There were streets with clean sidewalks and buildings. The main street was redbrick and the general store large, with signs advertising items of all kinds. There was a barbershop, round red-and-white columns announcing it as such. The town looked bustling and prosperous. Maybe there was a chance she could find some life for herself here. She looked down at Noah and his eyes were bright as his little hand waved at each building they passed.

  Flynn pulled the wagon in front of a boardinghouse. While he went in to secure them a room, Cora prayed like she’d never prayed before. “Lord, please let Flynn love me as I love him. Help us make a home here. Father, I will do my best to honor You with our lives and will raise our children to love and obey You.”

  The smile on Flynn’s face as he came out to them and his words, “I have us a room,” filled her with powerful relief. He wasn’t leaving them, or at least not yet. “Thank You, Jesus,” she whispered under her breath.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cora laid Noah down on the bed. A real bed. Not a pile of quilts but a bed with a mattress. She made sure he slept soundly and then walked to the window and looked with delight down below at the busy street. She and Noah had bathed in a tub and he had been gleeful, splashing and jabbering. Once they were clean, she had sat beside the fireplace until her hair had dried. To say she felt like a new woman would be putting it lightly. But it had been almost two hours now since Flynn left them, stating he would give them time to clean up and rest a bit. Where had he gone? What was he doing that would take so long?

  He’d made sure she and the baby had everything they needed to be comfortable; he’d even checked the room for cleanliness and for any sign of insects that might have come in seeking warmth. Then he’d said he would be back shortly. She assumed he’d gone to t
ake care of the oxen and the wagon. But that didn’t take two hours.

  Already she missed Sarah, Annie, Rebecca and all the other friends she’d made on the Oregon Trail. Especially Martha. She would have kept Martha if she could have. But they’d all parted ways with hugs and tears. Rebecca had clung to her long and hard, thanking her and Flynn for finding folks who cared about her again.

  Cora had no idea what the future held for her and baby Noah. Hank hadn’t caught up with them, so she assumed they were free of Noah’s father. She wished with all her heart that she could tell Flynn that she loved him and that she didn’t want to end their marriage of convenience, but he’d not expressed those kinds of feelings toward her or given any indication that her feelings would be welcomed. Flynn Adams was married to his job. Now that they were in Willamette, they would part ways soon. Tears filled her eyes and she turned from the window.

  She moved to the bed and lay down by Noah. The softness of the mattress soothed her tired body, but she found herself unable to nod off. Cora had too many decisions to make to fall asleep. She found herself regretting that she’d not told anyone that her marriage to Flynn wasn’t real, even after Doc died and the secretive reason for Flynn’s presence on the wagon train was revealed.

  If she had told her friend the truth, would Sarah have offered to take her with them? Probably. But going with Sarah and her family wasn’t what Cora wanted to do. She wanted to stay with Flynn. She loved him, and if he would agree, she’d stay married to him until the day she died.

  Right then, Cora made the decision to tell him everything: that she wasn’t Noah’s mother and that Hank had murdered her sister. She’d wanted to tell him so many times on the trail but never seemed to find the right time. Now was the time.

  Someone pounded on the door. Cora looked to see if the noise had woken Noah. He continued to sleep soundly. She pushed herself off the bed and straightened her dress before pulling the door open.

  Cora gasped. A bitter, cold despair stirred in her soul. Standing in the doorway was none other than Hank, and with him he had the sheriff. It was as if her thoughts had conjured him up. She looked at the sheriff’s badge to make sure he was a real sheriff. Then her gaze moved to Hank, who grinned behind the lawman’s back. He seemed to enjoy her struggle to capture her composure.

  “Miss Cora Edwards?” The sheriff nodded at her. He held his hat in his hands and his eyes showed signs of weariness.

  Cora stood to her full height. “I’m Mrs. Flynn Adams.”

  “It’s her all right, Sheriff.” Hank stepped around the sheriff, moving closer to her, and Cora took two steps back.

  Hank pointed at the bed. “And that’s my son. She killed my wife so she could have our son.”

  “What? No!” Cora’s hand covered her mouth. She blocked Hank from advancing farther into the room and toward Noah. She lowered her hand. “Sheriff, I didn’t kill her. Hank beat her until he passed out from drinking. Then she came to me and told me about her plan to leave on the wagon train. She’d already made the arrangements. Gracie asked me to raise Noah right before she died. He’s trying to get away with murder. I would have told the sheriff in Independence, but I was afraid, and Gracie begged me to leave with Noah so he couldn’t hurt her little boy. Grace told me she didn’t report Hank beating her because the sheriff there always sided with the husbands.” Cora knew she was rambling but couldn’t stop herself. She had to save Noah from his father and herself from the hangman’s noose.

  Hank shook his head. “That’s not true. You killed her and took our son. You were always jealous of your sister.” He stepped sideways to go around her, but Cora blocked him once more.

  “Please, Sheriff. This man is a liar, a drunk and a murderer.”

  The lawman looked from one of them to the other. “Is there anyone that can vouch for you, Mrs. Adams?”

  “Are you asking if anyone else saw Gracie die or heard her ask me to take Noah as far away from Hank as I could go?” She heard her voice quiver. Felt the tears burn the backs of her eyes and knew she was doomed if the sheriff believed Hank’s lies.

  Before the sheriff could answer, Flynn walked into the room. “What’s going on here?”

  He walked over to Cora and stood beside her.

  Cora felt the anger radiating from Flynn. His eyes blazed, and his nostrils flared with each breath he took. But who was the focus of his anger? She couldn’t tell. Was he angry with her, for lying to him? Did he know what had happened, or was he about to find out now?

  She wished with all her heart that she had told him about Hank and explained that Noah wasn’t really her son but her sister’s. She looked to her husband for understanding, but he stared at Hank as if daring him to take another step toward his family.

  Hank heeded the unspoken threat and stepped back. He puffed his chest out but stood beside the sheriff as if looking for protection.

  The lawman sighed. “Are you Mr. Adams?”

  Flynn answered, “Yes, and I’d like to know why you and this man are here scaring my wife and son.”

  “It seems your wife and Mr. Marshall are telling two different stories of how Mrs. Marshall died.” He removed his hat, wiped the sweat off his brow and replaced the hat.

  “That boy is mine, not yours,” Hank bellowed from behind the sheriff.

  Flynn turned to Cora questioningly. “What is he talking about?”

  He spoke with staid calmness, but Cora could tell it was a deceptive calm. Would he believe her, once he knew the truth? Would he forgive her? Cora whispered, “This is Hank, Noah’s father. He killed my sister and now wants Noah.”

  Flynn stared deeply into her eyes. She noted his set face, his clamped mouth and steady expression. What was he going to do? Could he fix this? She wanted so badly to lean on him, but he stepped away. Her throat seemed to close up. A heaviness centered in her chest. She dropped her lashes quickly to hide the hurt.

  When she glanced up again, Cora saw a smirk twitch across Hank’s face as he said, “Your wife is a murderer and a liar, Mr. Adams.” He turned to the sheriff and in a loud, demanding voice said, “I want her to hang for killing my sweet Grace. And in the meantime, I deserve my son. That woman has stolen him and caused me to lose months of his life.”

  Noah chose that moment to wake from his nap. He sat up and looked wide-eyed at the adults who filled the small room. His face scrunched up and his lower lip quivered.

  Did he recognize his father? Or remember the loud voice filled with anger? Cora didn’t know, but she hurried to the bed and scooped him up. She would fight for him with all that was within her; she’d do her best to protect him from Hank and harm. In a calm voice that she didn’t feel capable of, Cora tried to soothe the child. “Shhhh, it’s all right, baby.” She rocked her body back and forth, feeling trapped.

  Noah stuck two fingers in his mouth and buried his face in her shoulder.

  “Mrs. Adams, you’ve admitted that this man is the boy’s father. I need you to come to the office with me.”

  Cora wanted to scream. She knew that to a sheriff, “office” meant “jailhouse.” If he locked her up, what would happen to Noah? Cora nodded. “I’ll go with you, but Flynn is more of a father to Noah than Hank ever was.” She held her head high as she scooped up Noah’s bag and walked out the door, leaving the men to hurry after her.

  * * *

  Flynn entered the jail cell with Cora, who clung to Noah. She’d refused to give the boy to the sheriff or to Hank Marshall. The baby had screamed and clutched her for dear life every time one of them had tried to take him. Flynn finally told the sheriff to let her keep the boy for the time being. Thankfully, the lawman had agreed.

  It tore his heart to see her so distraught. Love, fear and anger battled for his attention. Fear that Hank might get her hanged for murder and anger that she’d not been honest with him about Noah’s true mother and what had brought her to the wagon train.
They had been together for months. How could she have kept something this important from him? Especially knowing he was a lawman. Why hadn’t she trusted him?

  He sat down on the bench beside her, aware that Hank stood beside the sheriff’s desk. Fortunately, the man was too far away to overhear their conversation, if they kept their voices low. “Start at the beginning and tell me the whole story. I need to know everything.”

  Cora’s voice sounded lost as she said, “Gracie was my twin sister. When she married Hank, everything was perfect at first, or at least that’s what she led everyone to believe. When I moved to Independence, I saw the truth and I begged her to leave him. Then she had Noah. She came to me many times after he was born, hurt and scared. Hank made sure never to hit her in the face. He didn’t want people to know he beat her. He broke her wrist once and always left bruises on other parts of her body. Hank likes to drink and he’s a mean drunk.” She paused; her gaze searched his.

  Flynn concealed his true emotions from her. He didn’t want her to see the anger he felt toward Hank. In a soft voice, he said, “Go on.” A lone tear made its way down Cora’s cheek. It took all he had not to wipe away her tears, pull her into his arms and tell her he’d do all he could to protect her and the baby.

  “The day I met you, Gracie had come to my house in the wee hours of the morning. She was hurt—fatally hurt, with only minutes left to live. Gracie told me Hank had threatened to kill Noah and she had fought him off. This beating was the worst I’d ever seen.” She shivered but then pressed on. “I put her on my bed. Her breathing was labored, and she’d been beaten so severely that we both knew she wasn’t going to recover. I wanted to go to the doctor, but she wanted to tell me the plans that she had made to escape with Noah. Gracie had already made the deal with the Clarksons to come here with them. She asked me to keep Noah safe and to take him. Before she could tell me more, she died. I couldn’t let Hank have the baby. I had to keep my promise to Gracie and keep him safe. I had to leave Gracie there without a proper burial. All I can do is hope that Hank took care of that.” She paused, took a deep breath and then pressed on again. “I didn’t know she’d used my name as a cover until Mrs. Clarkson called to me. She’d told them that she was a widow and wanted a fresh start.”