by Al Lacy
“Good,” Hannah said. Then, putting on her best English accent, she said, “Dinnah will be suhved at seven.”
Everybody laughed, remembering what good times they’d had together around Hannah’s table.
The Coopers spent a few more minutes talking with their old friends, then Solomon gave directions on how to find the farm and offered to come in the family wagon and pick them up. The colonel refused, saying they would come in an army wagon, and they would be there promptly at fifteen minutes before seven.
At half past six the next evening, darkness was settling over the land when Colonel Bateman and Major Crawley helped their wives into the army wagon. The air was cool, as it had been for the past few nights.
The women rode on the second seat while Darrell Crawley held the reins and Ross Bateman sat beside him.
The moon was beginning to cast its silvery spell over the hills, creating shadows in the low spots. When the wagon turned off Main Street and headed north, Sylvia said, “I wonder if Hannah has her house fixed up as darling as she kept their quarters at the forts.”
“I would imagine so,” Christel said. “She has such a way of tastefully putting things together.”
When the wagon turned off the road into the Cooper yard, the four were greeted with bright lanterns on posts that illuminated the front of the white two-story house.
“Just as I figured,” Christel said. “You can see Hannah’s personality all over it.”
The house had a wide porch across the front and on one side, forming an L. Bright potted plants adorned the porch railing, and comfortable red-and-white gingham padded chairs looked inviting.
The black shutters contrasted with the soft yellow glow of lanterns from inside that flowed through snow-white lace curtains.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Darrell said, pulling the wagon to a halt in front of the porch.
The front door swung open, and the entire Cooper family came out on the porch, the children preceding their parents. Patty Ruth stayed close to her mother, holding Ulysses in the crook of her arm.
Chris and Mary Beth remembered their guests, and B. J. smiled as the visitors marveled at how all three had grown so much in the past five years.
Then all attention was turned to the little redhead looking on with big blue eyes.
“So this is Patty Ruth!” Colonel Bateman said, bending low and placing his hands on his thighs. “My, aren’t you a pretty little thing!” The others made over Patty Ruth, commenting on how much she resembled her mother and sister.
Patty Ruth smiled, curtsied politely, and thanked them.
“My, what a sweet child!” Sylvia Bateman said, while the others nodded in agreement.
Unnoticed by the adults, Chris and B. J. exchanged glances, as if to say Mrs. Bateman’s comment about Patty Ruth was absurd. The little redhead saw them and stuck out her tongue.
Inside, the guests looked around appreciatively at the decorations and furnishings. The parlor was so warm and cozy with a cheerful fire reflected in the polished hardwood floors.
While the men talked to Solomon and the women chatted animatedly with Hannah, Patty Ruth edged closer to her father. When she reached his side, she looked up at the two army officers and smiled.
The conversation broke off and Colonel Bateman looked down. “Hello, Patty Ruth. My, that’s some bear you have there. Does it have a name?”
“Yes, sir. He’s not an it, he’s a he. His name is Ulysses.”
Bateman’s head bobbed. “Ulysses?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you hear that, Major Crawley?”
“Yes, sir.” The major bent down to Patty Ruth’s height and said, “Did you name him, honey?”
“Sort of. My papa helped me. He’s named after President Ulysses S. Grant, who was the gen’ral my papa fighted for in the Cibil War.”
“That’s wonderful, honey,” Bateman said. “Major Crawley and I fought for General Grant, too.”
“Oh,” she said, adjusting Ulysses in her arm. “Did you and Major Crawley help Papa when he won the Cibil War?”
Solomon’s face turned pink. “Honey, Papa didn’t win the War.”
“I heard B. J. tell Tommy Nelson that you won the Cibil War almos’ all by yourself.”
Everyone was in on the conversation now. Solomon sent a sharp glance at his second son, who gave him a blank look and shrugged his shoulders.
“Dinner’s ready,” Hannah said, eager to change the subject. “Let’s eat.”
The guests laughed and followed the family to the dining room.
B. J. took the opportunity to lean close to his little sister and whisper, “Blabbermouth!”
Patty Ruth gave him an innocent look. “I jis’ tol’ ’em what you tol’ Tommy.”
It was Mary Beth’s job to show the guests where they would sit at the big dining table. When everyone was seated, Solomon led in thanking the Lord for His bounties, and the meal began.
Hannah had prepared roast beef, succulent and tender, with thick gravy, golden-brown roasted potatoes, and green peas and baby onions in a creamy white sauce. There was applesauce with cinnamon and yeasty homemade dinner rolls with freshly churned butter. There was steaming hot coffee for the adults, and milk for the children. And for dessert, they would all enjoy her scrumptious pies, both cherry and apple.
Everyone was eating with gusto when Colonel Bateman looked across the table and said, “So, tell me, Sol, how’s the store doing?”
“Very well, sir. Especially right now. It’s wagon train season. You saw a little of what it’s like in the store, although it had slowed some by the time you came in.”
“Lots of people moving west, eh?”
“Yes, sir.” Solomon glanced at Hannah.
“We’re maybe gonna go out west, too,” Patty Ruth blurted.
The guests looked at her, then at Solomon and Hannah. Solomon shifted uneasily on his chair.
“That so?” Bateman asked.
Solomon glanced at Hannah again. “Well, we’ve been talking some about it. Kind of caught the ‘go west’ fever. The lure of the frontier is strong.”
Hannah laughed, “The lure is stronger for Sol than it is for me. But, then, I guess it’s that way with all husbands.”
“If I might speak, here,” Christopher said, “I sure would like to go west.”
“Me, too,” B. J. said.
Mary Beth and Patty Ruth just looked at their mother without speaking.
“What part of the West are you considering, Sol?” Bateman asked.
“We’ve talked about California, but then we agreed that if we do it, maybe Oregon would be better. We could make a good living up there on a hundred and sixty acres of free land.”
“You just want to farm, eh?” Crawley asked.
“Well, they tell me Oregon is a virtual paradise. Beautiful valleys of rich black soil, plenty of water, and heavy with timber. One old wagon master who came through here last year told me that in Oregon the cattle feed on such thick green grass that they run around fat and already cooked, with knives and forks sticking out of them so you can cut off a slice whenever you’re hungry.”
Patty Ruth giggled. “O Papa, that’s silly!”
There was a round of laughter, then Bateman said, “Sol, are you wanting to get out of the general store business? I mean, you think you’d like farming better?”
“I love the general store business, but Hannah and I have talked farming because of the Homestead Act and all that free land. I don’t know how the business would do out there. Maybe in a few more years, when the population grows, we could get back into it.”
“Would you be interested in going west and bypassing the free land in order to do a powerful lot of business with a general store?”
Hannah looked at Bateman, then at her husband. Solomon quickly swallowed a mouthful of potatoes. “Would you run that by me once more, sir?”
Bateman smiled, winked at Sylvia, and said, “Sure. You can go west right now and go into the
general store business. And believe me, you can do well.”
“You’re not talking about Oregon.”
“No. Your trip would be much shorter. I’m talking about Fort Bridger.”
“I don’t understand, Colonel. Are you talking about a sutler’s store?”
“No, Sol. You see, a town is forming outside the walls of the fort. They’re calling it Fort Bridger after the name of the fort. At present, there’s a sutler’s store in the fort, and that’s where the townspeople are doing their trading. But the way the town is growing, they need a general store. You could make a good living there.”
Hannah saw a light come into her husband’s eyes. The others saw it, too.
Bateman took a sip of coffee, then said, “Let me explain what I mean by a ‘good living.’”
“Please do,” Hannah said. “Certainly the town is quite small.”
“Yes, it is, Hannah. But it’s growing fast. And think of this. All the wagon trains going either to California or Oregon pass through Fort Bridger.”
“That’s right, Mama…Papa…” Mary Beth said. “Miss Powers has been teaching us about the Oregon and California Trails at school.”
“Mr. Barrick has too!” Chris said, his voice full of enthusiasm. “And he says there’s every indication that people will be moving west for many years to come.”
“That’s right, Chris,” Bateman said, then turned to Sol. “While the town is growing, Sol, you’d be doing right well, just with the wagon trains coming through. I realize the wagon train business is seasonal, but you can make enough on your sales in the spring and summer months to easily carry you through the fall and winter.”
Solomon grinned. “You’re right about that, sir. I can make it here just by what happens in wagon train season.”
“Ah, but there’s more,” Bateman said, his smile getting wider. “I happen to know that the man who runs the sutler’s store in the fort is wanting to get out of the business. If you come in there and open up a general store for the town, he’ll gladly close down the sutler’s store. That would give you all the army business, too.”
Solomon looked at Hannah, who smiled back weakly.
Chris and B. J. exchanged glances, the light of adventure shining in their eyes.
Mary Beth knew that what the colonel was saying to her father was making the desire to go west even stronger within him. She couldn’t help but think of her grandparents… and Belinda. How could she ever tell them good-bye?
“There’s more, yet,” Bateman said. “Wells Fargo is making plans at this very moment to put a stage stop in the town. That would certainly bring in more business for your general store. A hotel is being built right now, along with a café, and a tonsorial parlor. A family by the name of Williams from St. Joseph, Missouri, has seen the opportunity and will operate all three.”
“Sounds like a good set-up, Sol,” Darrell Crawley said. “You’d get business from the stage riders, no doubt, and from the people who stay in the hotel.”
“Right,” Bateman said. “And as the town grows, the store would do even more business. The Coopers would make a better living in Fort Bridger than they would at farming a homestead.”
Hannah could tell by the look in her husband’s eyes that Bateman’s words were appealing. To help keep things on an even keel, she said, “What about the Indian problem, Colonel? You’re taking your entire regiment out there to strengthen the fort. Are the Indians posing a threat to all this?”
“Not to the town, Hannah. It’s the settlers in the area and the wagon trains that come through who are in danger of Indian attack. That’s exactly why we’re beefing up our troops at the fort. We’re going to keep those hostiles in line. Though the fort has patrols out all day long every day, there are always plenty of troops at the fort to keep any hostiles from coming against the town.”
“May I ask, Colonel Bateman,” Mary Beth said, “if there are some friendly Indians who live close by the fort?”
“Yes, honey. The Shoshones are quite friendly. They are avowed enemies of the Cheyenne, Sioux, Arapaho, and Blackfoot. The Shoshones come in and out of the town all the time. In fact, if you decide to run the store there, Sol, they’ll give you plenty of business, too. Of course, you’ll have to trade goods for goods with them, but they make some pretty nice jewelry and pottery, which you can turn around and sell, and make a profit from it.”
Chris grinned at Mary Beth. “Wouldn’t it be neat if we could make friends with some Shoshone Indian kids?”
Patty Ruth twisted her mouth around for a few seconds, then said, “Papa, would the Sho—Sho—uh…them kind of In’ians take our scalps?”
“No, honey. Like Colonel Bateman said, they are friendly to white people. They don’t take scalps.”
As silence descended on the table, Hannah said, “Colonel…”
“Yes, Hannah?”
“There’s something else Sol and I have discussed. We’ve agreed that we wouldn’t move anywhere unless there was a good Bible-believing church there. What’s the church situation in Fort Bridger?”
Colonel Bateman glanced at Solomon, then gave his attention to Hannah. “It’s interesting you should say this. We just happen to have Reverend Andrew Kelly and his new bride, Rebecca, in one of our wagons. I can guarantee you, he believes the Bible. He’s been preaching some of it to me on this trip.”
“Good for him,” Solomon said.
“Tell you what, Sol, he’s almost as good at it as you,” the colonel said.
Solomon grinned and glanced at Hannah. She seemed more relaxed, having heard about Reverend Kelly.
“Here’s the situation,” Bateman said. “Right now, there’s an elderly retired preacher holding services in the town hall, which was built just recently. The services are for both civilians and military. The townspeople and the military people who attend the services are all aware that Reverend Kelly is coming. Kelly, I understand, will actually organize a church and be its pastor. He’s a young man. Twenty-seven, I believe. Didn’t Rebecca tell you, Sylvia, that she’s twenty-two?”
“Yes. They got married about six months ago. And she told me that Andy—as she calls him—is very eager to get to Fort Bridger and preach the gospel.”
“This is sounding better all the time,” Solomon said. “Colonel, could we meet the Kellys? We’d like to talk to them.”
“No problem. I decided just this afternoon that we’d stay another day before pulling out. Already announced it to everybody in the column. You can come to the camp and meet them anytime tomorrow.”
“Good! We’ll do that!”
During the rest of the meal, the women exchanged stories about what had happened since the Coopers had left Fort Benson, and the men talked about the War and some of the men Solomon had known.
When both pies had been devoured, the adults moved to the parlor, and the Cooper children—having previously volunteered—did the dishes.
As the Batemans and Crawleys were preparing to leave, Darrell Crawley laid a hand on Solomon’s shoulder. “Sol, if the words of an old friend have some import, you and Hannah give some real serious thought to coming to Fort Bridger. We’d love to have you there.”
Solomon grinned. “Thanks, ol’ friend.”
“You’ll need to make up your minds pretty soon, Sol,” the colonel said. “As you know, the last wagon trains heading that way will leave in a month.”
“Yes, sir. Hannah and I are aware of that. You’ve given us a lot to think about tonight. We’ll discuss it and pray about it.”
After the Batemans and Crawleys had driven away and Solomon had closed the door, Chris and B. J. cornered him.
“Papa,” Chris said, his eyes sparkling, “can we go to Fort Bridger? Boy, it sure would be neat to be around all those soldiers!”
“I can’t say for sure yet, son. Like I told Colonel Bateman, we’ll pray about it.”
“I want to see those friendly Indians!” B. J. said. “I’ve never seen an Indian before.”
“I wanna
see ’em, too!” Patty Ruth piped up. “Long as they don’ take my scalp!”
Everybody laughed except Mary Beth. Hannah laid a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Honey, it’s bothering you, thinking about leaving your friends, isn’t it? Especially Belinda.”
Mary Beth put her arms around her mother and laid her head on her shoulder. “Yes. And Grandma and Grandpa, too.”
“I know how you feel, sweetie. I have my best friend, Lucinda. And all of us have Grandma and Grandpa. If the Lord wants us to move to Fort Bridger, He’ll give us the grace to leave those we love here in Independence.”
Mary Beth leaned back to look into her mother’s eyes. “Mama…”
“What, honey?”
“Do you feel better about us going to Fort Bridger than you did about Oregon?”
All the other Cooper ears waited to hear her reply.
“Yes… yes, I do. In fact, the thought of living in the town next to the fort and having our store there sounds real good.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was midmorning when Hannah and her youngest daughter entered the store. Randy Chase glanced up and greeted them, and Solomon nodded as he continued what he was doing.
“You sure you can get away. Solomon?” Hannah asked. “Looks awfully busy.”
“Randy says he’ll handle it by himself. I told him we wouldn’t be gone too long.”
Randy chuckled and said, “I can get more done with him out of the way, Mrs. Cooper.”
The customers grinned when Solomon quipped, “Just don’t you forget who’s boss around here, pal!”
As Randy was stuffing goods into a box he looked down at Patty Ruth. “You wouldn’t fire me, would you?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t fire you, Randy,” Patty Ruth said with a giggle. “I ain’t the boss, here. Ulysses is!” As she spoke, she held up the bear toward his face.
This time the customers laughed out loud.
The Coopers left Patty Ruth with Randy and moved quickly along the boardwalk.
“Did you tell Randy what we’re doing?” Hannah asked.
“No details. Only that we were going out to the army camp at the edge of town to talk to some people.”