by Al Lacy
Hannah had hoped this conversation wouldn’t come until—and if—it had to.
“Honey,” Ben said, clearing his throat, “word is spreading through the church and around town that you and Solomon are probably going to go west.”
“Well, Daddy, we have been discussing it more seriously than when we talked to you and Mother about it several months ago. Solomon has a big dream about beginning a new life. He—”
“Solomon has this dream.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Hannah,” Esther said, “I want to know your feelings about this. Is Solomon trying to force this move on you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well, how do you feel about it? Is it your dream, too?” Ben asked.
Hannah swallowed hard. “I…I have some reservations about it, Daddy. I’ve discussed them with Sol, and he understands them. We’re praying about it every day.”
Ben Singleton’s expression turned grim. “Hannah, somebody’s got to talk some sense into that husband of yours. I told him before that the idea was foolish, and I thought maybe he was seeing it my way. There hasn’t been any talk about it for a while. Now, we hear it’s more than talk.”
“No it isn’t. It hasn’t come to the planning stage, Daddy. We aren’t going to make any plans until the Lord reveals His will about it.”
“Sounds to me like Solomon’s got plans, and he’s just trying to slowly persuade you,” Esther said. “Hannah, don’t you let him talk you into it.”
“Mother, listen to me,” Hannah said, her voice taking on a slight edge. “Solomon is not trying to persuade me. He’s told me how he feels, but he has also said we won’t make one move in that direction unless we get the unmistakable approval of the Lord. Please don’t make me have to defend him to you. You, either, Daddy.”
Ben sighed. “Hannah, you know your mother and I love Sol. We know he’s a good husband and father. We just think maybe he’s let this ‘go west’ fever get a grip on him, and it’s downright foolishness. You and Solomon must consider the children. You shouldn’t take them out there on the plains and subject them to blood-hungry, hostile Indians.”
“That’s right,” Esther said. “Our grandchildren should not only be spared the danger of the Indians, but also the hardships that go with wagon train travel, let alone the hardships they will face in Oregon or California once you get there. It isn’t right.”
“Hannah,” Ben said, “I’ve read a lot about those wagon trains. Children and adults alike come down with cholera and typhoid fever. The dust is horrible, and by July the heat is unbearable. Some people die just from the heat. Sometimes they run out of water and die of thirst. Do you know there are graves all along the Oregon Trail?”
“I know about them, Daddy. But there’s a graveyard south of this town, too.”
Ben passed a hand over his face. “And even if you don’t consider the dangers, Hannah, it isn’t fair to take our only daughter and our only grandchildren away from us.”
“That’s right,” Esther said, her voice breaking. “Your father and I are getting up in years. We should have our daughter and grandchildren—yes, and our son-in-law—near us. Solomon isn’t considering us at all. We—”
“Mother, Sol only wants to give his family the best life he possibly can. Sometimes there’s sacrifice to do that. But how can you say Sol isn’t considering you and Daddy at all? Didn’t he say if we went, you would be welcome to come along?”
“Well, yes, but we’re just too old to make a trip like that.”
“Lots of people older than you make the trip. We’ve had many in the store in the past few days.”
“It’s not for us, honey,” Ben said. “It isn’t good for anybody, and we sure aren’t going to do it.”
“Daddy, there are many good things about a westward move. Think of the thrill it must be to have a part in settling this country somewhere beyond the Missouri River…all the way to the Pacific coast. I know the Homestead Act wouldn’t interest you, but think of all the people who are making their living on their free one hundred and sixty acres. Such an opportunity is never possible on this side of the Missouri.”
“Bully for them, but to me it wouldn’t be worth it…making that long trip in a wagon with Indians breathing down my neck and fighting all the storms and the dust and possible sicknesses…and having to fight off Indians to keep them from killing my family and burning down my house. No thanks. Man’s a fool who crosses the Missouri. Don’t you or Sol either one ever bring it up to your mother or me about going with you. We’re staying right here in Independence till we go home to glory.”
Esther was sniffling now and wiping tears with a hanky she carried in her sleeve.
Hannah reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “Don’t cry, Mother. Solomon and I don’t mean to cause heartache over this situation. We just—”
“Mama,” came Patty Ruth’s tiny voice, “what’s wrong with Grandma?”
Hannah turned to see her little girl at the back door, peering through the screen.
“She’s just a little upset, honey,” Hannah said.
“Can I come in and hug her?”
“Yes, of course.”
With Ulysses under her arm, Patty Ruth dashed in and let the screen door slam behind her. “Please don’t cry, Grandma,” she said, crawling up into Esther’s lap.
Esther wrapped her arms around Patty Ruth and wept all the more.
Ben looked at Hannah with pleading eyes and said, “Honey, if you and Sol need money to expand your business or start another one so you’d be happy staying in Independence, just name the amount. Mother and I will give it to you.”
Hannah patted his hand. “Thank you for such a generous offer, but money isn’t the issue.”
Esther held Patty Ruth tight and dabbed at her eyes. “Hannah,” she said, with a quivering voice, “you’ve got to talk Sol out of this nonsense. It isn’t right to take these grandchildren away from us.”
On the verge of tears herself, Hannah said, “Mother, as I’ve told you, Sol and I won’t make any kind of a move unless the Lord makes it clear that the move is His will. I understand why you and Daddy are upset, and I’ve tried to put myself in your place. I know you love us and want to be with us in your golden years. Please try to understand that we have our own lives to live, and God’s will may separate us.”
“I can’t believe God would do that,” Ben said.
Hannah’s face took on a pinched look. “Daddy, God called Abraham out of his homeland and sent him into a different country. He had a purpose in doing so. The move was God’s will, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but Solomon Cooper isn’t Abraham.”
“No, but he’s a child of God as much as Abraham was.”
Ben rose to his feet and took his hat off the peg. “Let’s go, Mother. We did what we came to do.”
Esther squeezed Patty Ruth once more and kissed her cheek. As she rose from the chair, still sniffling, Hannah went to her father and said, “Daddy, please don’t be angry. Sol only wants to do what’s right for his family.”
Ben embraced her as he said, “I’m not angry, honey, just upset. The whole thing is foolish. We’ll see you soon.”
Hannah knew there was nothing more she could say. She stood on the porch with Patty Ruth as they climbed in their buggy and drove away.
Patty Ruth looked up at Hannah. “Mama, I don’t like to see Grandma and Grandpa unhappy.”
“I don’t either, sweetheart. I don’t either.”
It was early afternoon when more wagons rolled into Independence to form another wagon train. Cooper’s General Store was a beehive of activity.
Solomon was adding up a large number of items at the counter next to Randy, who was taking care of his own customers. Solomon looked up at the man and his wife who were buying such a large amount of food and supplies.
“So where are you folks from?” he asked.
“Springfield, Illinois,” the man replied.
&nb
sp; “Oh. Abraham Lincoln territory.”
“Yes, sir, but I never had the privilege of meeting him.”
“Well, where you folks headed?”
“Oregon.”
“Going to homestead up there?”
“Sure are. Amy and I are really excited about it.”
“I can imagine. My wife, Hannah, and I have—”
“Soldiers are comin’!” came the voice of a teenage boy at the front door.
The store was packed with people, but all attention went to the street. “Wonder why the army’s coming in here?” one man asked.
“Probably just passin’ through,” another said, craning his neck to see out the door.
There was a large window directly behind the counter, and Solomon excused himself to the people from Illinois to take a look for himself. From what he could see, there were units of twelve cavalry riders, four abreast, interspersed at even intervals by covered wagons with “U.S. Army” emblazoned on their sides. The wagons were driven by uniformed men, but some of them were occupied by women and children.
People on the street were cheering the soldiers, waving and calling out to them. Solomon was about to turn back to his customers when he saw the faces of the two officers in the lead. One was Colonel Ross Bateman, who had been his commander in the Civil War. The other was Captain Darrell Crawley. He and Solomon had fought side by side in many a battle. The last time Solomon had heard about both men, they were stationed at Fort Benson, Illinois.
Solomon limped hurriedly to the door, working his way through the crowd on the boardwalk as he attempted to get the two officers’ attention. They were too far past him; to call out would be useless.
Solomon stepped off the boardwalk and approached a trooper on horseback. “Hello!” Solomon said.
“Hello, yourself, sir!” came the friendly reply.
“My name’s Cooper. Solomon Cooper. I own the general store right here.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I was a captain in the Union Army in the War. I fought under Colonel Bateman, and alongside Captain Crawley. I just happened to see them as they were passing by. I know you’re from Fort Benson, Illinois. Where are you going?”
“We’re on our way to Fort Bridger, Wyoming, sir,” the trooper said. “Colonel Bateman has been commissioned as commandant of the fort. He’s taking his entire Fort Benson regiment with him. Three hundred and sixty-seven men, along with the wives and children of all our officers.”
“That include Mrs. Bateman?”
“Yes, sir. She’s in the first wagon up ahead. And, by the way, sir, it is Major Crawley now.”
“Oh! I only got a glimpse of him. Didn’t see the insignia on his uniform. Well, good for him! Does Colonel Bateman plan to halt the column, or are you going to keep moving?”
“We’ve been moving steadily, except at night, since we left Fort Benson. We’re going to stay just outside of Independence for a couple of days and let everybody rest, including the animals.”
“Good!” Solomon said, his limp becoming more pronounced as he tried to keep up with the trooper. “Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“When you haul up out there at the edge of town, would you remind Colonel Bateman and Captain—I mean, Major Crawley that I am proprietor of Cooper’s General Store, and ask them to please come see me?”
“Will do, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Solomon returned to his customers and steady sales. While they worked side by side, Solomon told Randy some of his experiences with Colonel Bateman and Major Crawley in the War.
Some two hours after the regiment had passed through town, Solomon was waiting on a family from Wisconsin when he looked up to see Colonel and Mrs. Ross Bateman come through the door, followed by Major and Mrs. Darrell Crawley.
“Hello!” Solomon said. “Wonderful to see you! Let me take care of these customers and I’ll be with you in a jiffy!”
Bateman raised a palm. “Take your time, Sol. We’ll just browse around.”
Ten minutes later, Solomon joined his old friends and fellow soldiers.
Early in the Civil War, Hannah, Chris, and Mary Beth had left Independence to live at three different forts with Solomon, who served under Colonel Bateman the entire time. They were at Fort Detrick, Maryland, then were transferred to Fort Bedford, Pennsylvania, where B. J. was born. The last year of the War, they were at Fort Benson, Illinois. When the War was over, and the Coopers returned home, Hannah was expecting their fourth child.
Now Solomon gripped Crawley’s shoulder and said, “Hey, Darrell! Congratulations on making major!”
“Thank you… you’d have been a general by now if you’d stayed in the army, you know.”
Solomon snorted. “You know better than that!”
Sylvia Bateman said, “Sol, we never did know whether Hannah had a boy or a girl when you left Fort Benson.”
Solomon’s grin widened as he said, “A girl…Patty Ruth. Hard to believe she’s five years old now. And let me tell you, she’s a pistol!”
Christel Crawley laughed. “Well, when do we get to meet her and see Hannah and the other children?”
“I imagine the kids have grown a lot since we saw them last,” put in the colonel.
“You won’t know them, sir,” Solomon said. “Hannah and I can bring the children to your camp tonight, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is.”
“Oh, yes, we must see them!” Sylvia said.
Solomon flashed her a smile and said, “Believe me, ma’am, Hannah would be very disappointed if she didn’t get to see all four of you!”
“We’ll look forward to it,” Colonel Bateman said, stepping to one side to let two women in hoop skirts squeeze past.
Solomon glanced toward Randy Chase to make sure he was still keeping up with the customers, then turned back to the colonel. “The trooper I talked to told me you’re heading to Fort Bridger, Wyoming, to become its commandant.”
“That’s right.” Bateman nodded and brushed a hand over his handlebar mustache.
“How did the appointment come about?”
“Well, the present commandant, Colonel George Sanford, is retiring. There have been some serious Indian problems in that part of Wyoming Territory of late—Cheyenne, Sioux, Arapaho, and Blackfoot. So the big brass in Washington planted the commission on me and told me to take my entire regiment to beef up the number of troops at the fort. They’re building more barracks and officers’ quarters to accommodate us right now.”
“Sounds like you’ll be busy.”
“You’re right about that. Only I’d rather fight Rebels than Indians any day. Men can usually figure out what Rebels are going to do, but Indians… now they’re something else.”
“That’s what I hear,” Solomon said with a chuckle.
The old friends chatted for a few more minutes, then the officers and their wives left, saying they would see the Coopers at the camp that evening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Several campfires winked against the darkness as Solomon and Hannah approached the army camp. Uniformed men milled about, and they could hear the sound of women’s and children’s voices.
“Oh, Sol, I’m so excited!” Hannah said. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them!”
“Well, none of them have changed much. The colonel’s hair is completely silver now. But it was close to that when we left Fort Benson. Mrs. Bateman has either found some marvelous make-up, or she just hasn’t aged. Christel’s only a year older than you, and like you she still looks the same.”
“I guess you haven’t noticed the crow’s-feet at the corners of my eyes.”
“Guess I haven’t.”
“Well, just keep it that way, okay?”
Solomon chuckled and gave her a quick hug as they entered the camp.
Two soldiers, standing beside a wagon, looked at the Coopers with curiosity. Solomon stepped close and said, “Excuse me,
gentlemen. We’re looking for Colonel and Mrs. Bateman, and Major and Mrs. Crawley. They’re expecting us. Where might we find them?”
The shorter soldier pointed in the direction of a wagon on the other side of a large fire. “Right over there, sir. The wagon with the white wheels.”
Hannah’s heart was throbbing with anticipation as she held onto her husband’s arm and walked toward the designated wagon.
Christel Crawley spotted the Coopers first and sprang out of her chair, shouting, “Hannah!”
The others were quickly on their feet as Christel and Hannah met in a warm embrace.
Sylvia crowded in, playfully saying, “My turn, Christel!”
When the hugging was done and the two officers had greeted Hannah, Colonel Bateman looked around. “Where are the children?”
“Well,” Hannah said, “we left them home so we could use them as bait for tomorrow night.”
“Pardon me?”
Hannah’s laugh tinkled in the chill night air. “Well, it’s our understanding that you’ll not be pulling out until day after tomorrow. Is that correct?”
“Correct,” the colonel said with a nod.
“Then Solomon and I would like to extend a formal invitation to Colonel and Mrs. Bateman, and Major and Mrs. Crawley to attend dinner at our humble home tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, we’d love it!” Christel said. “Wouldn’t we, Sylvia?”
“Consider the invitation accepted,” Sylvia replied.
Bateman raised his eyebrows in mock surprise at the women. “Without checking with your husbands?”
“We both know how well our husbands liked Hannah’s cooking in the past,” Christel said. “Certainly it can’t be anything but just as good now!”
Hannah smiled her pleasure and said, “We figured if you hesitated to accept the invitation, we’d tell you that unless you came for dinner tomorrow night, you wouldn’t get to see the children!”
Bateman laughed. “Well, even if your cooking was horrible, Hannah, I’d come and eat it just to see those three younguns again… and to meet the little one.”