Oregon Discovery (Trails of the Heart Book 4)

by Rachel Wesson

  “I still can’t believe we came so close to war with another country over a pig eating potatoes. Men! If they had to have babies, they wouldn’t be so quick to want to kill them.”

  “Calm down, Della. Nobody is going to kill anyone. Becky, why don’t you make your ma another cup of tea. I am going to check on Jake.” Scott retreated out the door. He never stayed around if there was a hint of an argument between the Thompson women.

  “Scott was clever asking Paco and Walking Tall to look after his animals while he was working as a trail guide.”

  “We are lucky ma. I was reading an old newspaper and the stories of people still suffering in the big cities from the panic in ’57 are scary. I am so glad we moved out here,” Becky said.

  “Do you remember asking me if I regretted moving? That time when the ox died and we were stuck in the horrible dust,” Della’s lip twitched at the memory.

  “Can I ever forget it? I thought there was no hope for me and Scott and now look at us. Four children and counting.” Becky rubbed her stomach. She hoped it wasn’t another set of twins but she would never admit that out loud.

  “Have you seen Eva, Ma?”

  “Eva is grand. She is worried David is taking on too much with his writing and the work on the ranch but she is happy.”

  “I wonder how many people back in Virgil would believe David Clarke is a writer on the newspaper.” Becky wondered aloud. Her brother in law had suffered due to his father’s reputation as a drunk. The people of Virgil would be amazed at what David Clarke had achieved in such a short period of time. She could see him in the senate. “He has a way of reporting the news, it makes it clear what he is saying.”

  “He does but sometimes his views aren’t too popular. He has abolitionist tendencies,” Della stumbled over the unfamiliar word. “Many don’t like that.”

  “Ma! You brought us up to believe everyone was equal,” Becky said shocked at the implication David was wrong.

  “Yes, Becky and I believe that,” Della quickly corrected her daughter. “But his articles on John Brown and the action at Harpers Ferry weren’t popular. There are many who believe Mr. Brown was wrong to do what he did.”

  “David didn’t agree with his actions but with his sentiments. John Brown, for all his faults, believed in freedom for everyone,” Becky clarified.

  “But David should think of his family. His children must live in Portland. There is a lot of bad feeling towards Indians and Blacks especially with many losing husbands and fathers in the Indian wars.”

  “Well, it was their fault for joining the militia,” Becky snapped.

  “Becky Jones, don’t let anyone hear you saying that. You would be lynched.”

  “I am only talking to you Ma. The local militia appears more eager to kill Indians than the army. They don’t care who they kill either. I know the Renegades committed dreadful acts but Indians like Paco don’t need to suffer too. If I killed a man, nobody would come and kill you and pa, never mind Jo and the children in revenge. It's one rule for them and another for the whites. That is what annoys David so much.”

  “Scott feels it too yet he doesn't go around broadcasting his views.” Della commented before saying, “Don’t look at me like that Becky. I agree with David but sometimes it is best to keep your opinions to yourself.’

  “If everyone did that ma, nothing would ever change.” Becky didn’t want to fight with her ma so she quickly changed the subject. “Is Pa coming back to collect you or will Scott drop you home after dinner?”

  “I drove myself over, I can drive myself home,” Della said, her tone suggesting she was still angry.

  “I know you can ma but I prefer it if you didn’t drive around alone. You know there is still a chance of attack. Scott will ride back with you. Now, why don’t you help me with dinner?” Becky cajoled knowing her ma liked to feel useful.

  “Let me do dinner and you go put your feet up for a bit. Your ankles look a bit swollen. Go on, go rest.”

  “But the younger children?” Becky’s protest was half hearted. The continuous nausea was making her tired. And grumpy although she wasn’t about to admit that.

  “Becky, I am not dead yet. I can make dinner and mind children. I’ve had plenty of practice!”

  “Yes, ma.” Becky would have run if she could. Her ma was rarely in bad form but today she was in a shocking mood. Was it because Gran had died? They knew she’d been sick but still, everyone had been surprised she didn’t pull through. As David pointed out, they’d expected Gran to live forever.

  Becky sat on the edge of the bed looking at her ankles. They were huge. Thick ankles and being sick all the time. Pregnancy wasn’t that much fun. She lay back on the bed closing her eyes before opening them again. She didn’t want to sleep. Every time she tried, she imagined it was Scott who was ill not Rick. At night, she lay in bed beside him watching him breathe. She couldn’t imagine how Jo was dealing with Rick’s illness. She pulled the pillow closer as she gave into the tears that had been threatening all morning. She prayed things would get better for her sister but she had a horrible feeling the worst was yet to come.

  Chapter 9

  Carrie ran on hearing Jo’s scream. She met Bridget in the hallway as they raced to Jo’s bedroom.

  “Rick, wake up. Please, wake up.”

  “What’s wrong Ma?” Carrie asked as Bridget moved toward the prone figure on the bed.

  “Sarah’s gone, she’s run off with Edwin. She left a note, Rick read it and he won’t wake up.” Jo shook her husband but there was no response. Bridget moved her gently away before putting her head on his chest.

  “His heart’s beating. It’s just a funny turn Miss Johanna,” Bridget said calmly taking charge. “Miss Carrie, get changed and ride for your uncle Scott. Go carefully mind. We don’t want you hurt too.”

  Carrie didn’t wait to be asked twice but ran to get her pants on. She met Nancy and Lena on the way, Lena gripping Nancy’s hand, the other in her mouth.

  “Pa isn’t feeling well girls. He gave ma a fright but you can go in to her now. Bridget is with them.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I am going to get Uncle Scott, Nancy. Now you girls be good.”

  Carrie couldn’t wait to reassure them, she had to get going. She ran outside thankful Walking Tall had shown her how to ride bareback too. She didn’t have time to start saddling up. At the last minute, she stuck a gun in her pants. Scott had insisted they all learn to shoot. She wasn’t any good but it might deter someone.

  Becky was woken by the sound of her niece screaming for Scott. Forgetting she was pregnant, she jumped out of bed thanking God she hadn’t got undressed. Her ma was holding Carrie by the arm trying to make sense of what she was saying. Scott came running with a couple of the casual workers.

  “Carrie love, calm down. You aren’t making any sense.”

  “Jo sent me. You got to come. Sarah’s run away.”

  “Sarah? Why?” Becky’s questions were interrupted by her ma.

  “She’s gone with Edwin Morgan hasn’t she?” Della asked.

  Carrie flushed. She nodded her head as if by admitting Sarah’s guilt she would be implicated too.

  “When Carrie? How long ago? Are you sure she is with Edwin?”

  At the glare from his mother in law and wife, Scott continued. “She is better off with him than riding around on her own.”

  “Marginally!” Della said under her breath.

  “I don’t know Uncle Scott. I went to call her as she was late for breakfast and she wasn’t in her room. We had a row yesterday before dinner and I didn’t speak to her after that. I don’t know if she left last night or this morning.”

  “How is Rick?” Della asked quietly.

  “Grandma Della you need to come. Pa passed out. Ma got him back into bed but she needs you. Uncle Scott, Almanzo hasn’t come back yet.”

  “Why did Sarah run?” Scott asked.

  Carrie told them of Edwin’s proposal, Sarah’s row wi
th their parents and then Sarah leaving. “She left a note. It said they would be married by the time we read it so not to bother looking for her.”

  Scott’s face twisted at this comment. He exchanged a look with Becky. Della caught it too.

  “Scott, it seems pointless to go chasing after her now. What is done is done. It might be better to let them get married, her reputation is in the gutter now anyway.” Della stood up. “Come on Carrie, let’s get you home and see how your folks are. Scott, Rick may agree to go into town with you?”

  Della’s meaningful look at Scott didn’t go unnoticed. Becky gripped the edge of the table, her white knuckles almost popping through her skin. Her ma was even more worried about Rick than she was.

  “Jo wants him to see Doc White but he won’t. Do you think you could make him go Uncle Scott?” Carrie asked, her big eyes staring up at Scott. “He listens to you.”

  Becky had to turn away. Carrie looked so young and lost begging Scott to take Rick to the doctor. If she got a hold of Sarah Hughes, she would shake her. Her brother in law was ill enough without having to worry about all this. She should go to her sister too. But as soon as she stood up she sat back down. She would go, but later when the nausea had cleared a bit. If only Almanzo were here. Jo could lean on her adoptive son but instead, she was worried about him being in danger too

  “I will take him into town. Jo will want to come with me. Della can stay with Jo’s family. Becky will look after the twins. Carrie, can you ride on to David? Or do you want me to send one of the men?”

  Carrie was torn. She wanted to get home to see for herself Rick was okay but she knew that the men were all busy, especially as Almanzo, Walking Tall and some others still hadn’t returned.

  “I will go. Can I take a horse? Poor Biscuit needs a rest.”

  Scott raised his eyebrows at the horse's name but he didn’t comment. He spoke quickly to the brave nearest him. The man flashed a smile before running toward the corral.

  “Carrie, first come inside and have a cold drink. Where is your bonnet?”

  “Becky, I don’t care about my complexion, not now,” Carrie snapped, immediately regretting having done so.

  “I was thinking about you getting sunstroke darling.”

  Carrie’s eyes fell. How stupid could she be? She felt Becky’s arms around her.

  “Sweetie, you are brave and wonderful. I didn’t mean to snap. I just don’t want you getting sick too.”

  “Yes Aunty Becky.”

  “Thank God our Jo had you today. You are the best daughter any mother could have.”

  Carrie beamed with pride but then flushed at Becky’s next words. “After you get David, will you ride on to Ma’s house and tell Pa and Stephen?”

  “Yes Becky, I wish Almanzo was home.”

  “Me too sweetheart. But maybe he is on his way.”

  Carrie hoped her aunt was right. She knew the missing women needed help but her family was falling apart. She needed Almanzo home. They all did.

  Chapter 10

  Almanzo stared at his ma. She wouldn’t look at him. The rest of the camp faded into the background as if it was just the two of them out here in the open. He took a step toward her, holding out his hand as if by touching her, he would wake up from a dream.

  “Ma?”

  The woman shook her head violently still looking at the ground.

  “Lucy Price,” Almanzo whispered. “Your name is Lucy Price.”

  The woman lifted her eyes to his… “Lucy Price is dead. It is best you forget her.”

  The woman looked into his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning and walking away. He couldn’t move. The clock swung back and he was the ten-year-old orphan left to die as his ma and pa drove their wagon away. He froze, staring at her. She’d been alive all this time, yet even now she didn’t want to know him. Had she ever wondered about the son she left to die alone?

  He felt rather than heard the woman the Indians called Fire Daughter move to his side. She lay a hand on his arm but still, he couldn’t respond. She repeated her question.

  “Who is that woman? It looked like you recognized her.”

  “My mother. She went missing, presumed dead on the trail when we moved to Oregon eight years ago,” he said, his tone highlighting his disbelief. He looked at the girl's face expecting to see censure and disgust but instead her eyes were full of pity. He didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him.

  “Excuse me. I must get back to the Chief. Can you bring Fiona?”

  She nodded, not that he gave her much of a choice as he stormed off in the direction of the gathering of men.

  “What is wrong?” Walking Tall asked him as he approached but he ignored him. Instead, he walked straight up to the Chief. He looked so fierce the Chief’s eyes widened and two younger Braves leaped up ready to come to their leader's defense.

  “My mother is one of your prisoners,” Almanzo’s tone was harsh.

  “I do not have prisoners. Every person is free to leave when they wish. All the women choose to stay rather than be returned. Apart from these two.”

  “Liar.”

  “Almanzo Price,” Walking Tall’s sharp tone got through the haze in his head. He looked at the Chief who was staring back at him. His eyes were clear, his expression one of kindness rather than deceit.

  “Sometimes the truth is hard to hear. Which woman?” The Chief asked.

  The brave who had accompanied Almanzo spoke in his own tongue in answer to the Chief.

  “Broken Wing. She was very sad and half dead when she came to us. It took a long time to heal her wounds.” The Chief spoke slowly as if trying to pick the right words.

  “She had the fever, just like me.” Almanzo prompted.

  “No, it was not the fever,” the Chief said sadly. He looked into Almanzo’s eyes. “She had been beaten very badly. Many broken bones. Her leg never healed. Lots of bruises. Her spirit was broken too.”

  Almanzo gazed at the Chief. He knew he spoke the truth. He could see it in his eyes.

  “When? Did she tell you she had a child? A son? Did she ever try to find him? Why did my mother choose to stay with you? Why not go back to where she belonged?” He threw out the questions so rapidly the Chief didn’t have a hope of responding. Walking Tall came to his rescue. He translated quickly. The Chief looked at Almanzo when he replied but he used his own language leaving Walking Tall to translate.

  “She was ill for a long time. She didn’t speak for months. We thought she would never speak again. She feared everyone even the women. One of us finally spoke to her. He had some white man’s language. She said she had married a bad man who killed her son first and then tried to kill her. If he knew she lived, he was going to find her and kill her. She wanted to die.”

  “Yet she didn’t,” Almanzo said bitterly.

  “She almost did. It took much medicine to make her better. Brown Owl was kind. He showed her not all men were the same. He made her smile first then laugh. They had a child. A young girl.”

  “I have a sister?” Almanzo asked, not sure how the news made him feel.

  “Yes. She has lived seven summers.”

  “And this Brown Owl? He is the reason she never left. Where is he?”

  “He died.” The Chief’s voice faltered as a shadow of pain crossed his face. “Afterward, we offered to take Broken Wing to join Wagon Train but she says no. She stays here with daughter. Said, white people, not accept the girl.”

  Almanzo couldn’t argue with that. He had seen how the locals treated half-breeds. His ma obviously loved her child as she didn’t leave her behind. Unlike him.

  “Many men offer to be new husband. Broken Wing says no. She prefers to live alone.” Walking Tall translated, his eyes full of concern. Almanzo ignored him, he couldn’t show any weakness now or he may just fall apart.

  “I want to talk with her,” Almanzo said firmly.

  The Chief raised his eyebrows at Almanzo’s tone. Walking Tall coughed, a hint to Almanzo he should be m
ore respectful.

  “I apologize for my tone. It was a surprise to find my mother alive. She left me for dead eight years ago.”

  The Chief considered him for a couple of minutes, the other Indians sitting in silence. Almanzo knew most of them didn’t understand enough English to follow the conversation.

  “Broken Wing is not like that. She is very caring. Towards everyone, not just her own girl,” The Chief spoke confidently. He obviously believed every word of what he said.

  “Well, she must have hit her head pretty badly. My parents both hated Indians. MyPaused to say the only good Indian is a dead one. She agreed with everything he said,” Almanzo spat the words out, the anger he had blocked out as a ten-year-old resurfacing.

  “You are angry, young man. This I understand but you must cool your rage. You will not meet with Broken Wing until your anger is gone. The woman is a member of my tribe and I respect her. She does not act like you say, not now. Maybe in the past. But she may have been forced. You were a child. You are an adult now. When you can see things like an adult and not a child, you may speak to Broken Wing.”

  “But…” Almanzo didn’t get to say anything else as Walking Tall gripped his arm.

  “Thank you, Chief. We will camp outside the village and come back in the morning,” Walking Tall said in his own language. “My friend, Almanzo, is a good man. He is hurt and angry but his temper will be gone tomorrow.”

  “You are welcome to camp in the village just not near Broken Wing’s home. I will not forget my manners so long as your friend doesn't forget his.”

  “He won’t,” Walking Tall sounded so confident, Almanzo wouldn’t be surprised if his friend had him bound hand and foot to make sure he didn’t go near the woman. His ma? Living with Indians? Having another child. Not wanting to leave. It didn’t make sense. But then what type of woman abandoned her ill child and left him alone to die?