She found Skeeter on her way back to the Granville wagon. “Would you please watch out for Bust while I do chores?”
“Sure, sis!” He held out a hand to the little boy. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone else wants to play train robbers with us.”
Ellen saw Marie leading the oxen to water, so she took the chance to let down the tailgate. She piled the dirty clothes and blankets on the ground. There was a moment’s hesitation before she added everyone else’s laundry. Would they mind her taking initiative? She wondered as she piled them all on. Hopefully not, because washing was the least she could do for the group taking in her and the boys.
The dappled sunlight danced along the water as she scrubbed. The woods were lovely and reminded her of Del. She shook off the longing for him and worked harder on the dirt stains. Every so often, she’d have to stand and stretch, giving her time to see who else lined the creek. Sam had been far upstream at a swimming hole. His fishing pole meant they’d have a good meal tonight. She went back to cleaning his shirt. The amount of laundry for Sam’s group was a lot more than the Winslows’.
She laid out the lighter things on the taller grasses. The blankets were heavy enough on their own without being damp too. Ellen draped them over the wagon wheels, stopping when she saw Marie with Buster’s new shirt. “What are you doing?”
Her friend held up the little garment. “I was done staking out the animals and thought I’d help you. I noticed all our clothes were gone. With you busy there, I decided to be busy here.” Marie bit her lip before saying, “What do you think? I used all the white buttons we had. Lucky might need to whittle us more for the shirttail.”
“It’s perfect!” She checked the rip. “You’ve even fixed the tear. He can wear this tonight.” Ellen gave the woman a hug. “Thank you!”
“It was my pleasure. He’ll look smart in it for sure.”
“All due to you. I’ll get the rest of the clothes and help you with dinner.” She strolled down to the creek bed and scooped up their dripping laundry. Headed back, she saw Skeeter run up with the Allen boys and Buster.
They all breathed heavy while the older Winslow boy asked, “We’re hungry. When is supper?”
Marie spoke first. “Not for a while. Would you like something to tide you over till then?” She stood, headed for the wagon. “How about some dried fruit? I’m planning on a peach cobbler tonight, but there are some apple slices in here.” She gathered up the dried rings, giving a few to each child. “There’s fresh water at the creek when you’re thirsty.”
“Thanks, Miz Granville.”
“You’re welcome, Henry.” Marie went back to picking out the flattened peaches while Ellen began draping the clothes over anything possible. Her friend paused in her sorting and she felt Marie’s stare. “Remember that dress you borrowed after that dunking in the Green River? I’ve not worn it since, and it suits you much better.” She climbed up in the wagon, her voice muffled by the dingy canvas top. “You’ll be doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. Otherwise, moths will eat it right up.” She hopped down with the folded dress in hand. “I hope this will still fit.”
Ellen fluffed out the fabric and held it against her. “I’m sure it does.”
“I’m glad. Now, you’ll have something clean for when we reach Oregon City.” Marie moved her fruit and jars to the wagon seat in front. “I’ll guard up here if you’ll tie up the back.”
“All right.” She pulled up the tailgate first. Aware that Sam or one of his men might wander by and need something, she changed out in a hurry. The gifted dress seemed looser now than the time before. She might need to take it in, depending on how well Del provided for them. Ellen shook her head at the assumption. It’d be better to wait and see if he truly would welcome her and the boys. Even if he might have been willing to at some point, any number of things might have happened in two weeks. She opened up the back of the wagon and eased to the ground.
Marie walked from the front. “You look lovely!” She nodded at the tailgate. “If you’ll let that down, I’ll get started on dinner.”
“Wait, you were guarding the front, weren’t you?”
“Of course! I heard you open the canvas before coming over.” She patted Ellen’s arm. “Don’t worry. I did keep a look out for you.”
Ellen laughed as she went to the creek yet again. All the people were different, yet the chores were the same. She scrubbed the skirt extra until the water ran clear. This time, she didn’t linger. Dinner required cooking, and while Marie said she didn’t need help, Ellen wanted to sneak bites when she could. Soon, the dress hung over the last bit of space on the wagon’s tongue.
Marie had seats ready for them and a fire pit made. She must have seen Ellen’s surprise because she laughed. “It wasn’t all me. Lucky and Arnold came by, fixed all this, and then went off to see if Sam’s caught dinner.” She patted one of the folded blankets. “Have a seat and help me peel.”
She did as requested, both women working. “These are really good quality. Were these in your wagon all this time?”
“No, Sam traded for them at the Frenchman’s post. We had extra rice and everyone here decided potatoes would be a welcome change. He also traded beans for peas, but we’ll have them tomorrow night.”
Ellen smiled. “Thank you for taking us in, especially after hearing all this.”
“It’s our pleasure. Sam will be especially glad we did after he sees his clean shirts.”
“They’re not perfect.”
“At this point, I don’t know how they can be.” Marie stood, stretching her fingers. “It’ll take a good boiling and bluing to get them back to white. Maybe I’ll just dye them brown and be done with it.”
“No!” Sam came up with four large salmon fillets. “How dare you suggest such a thing? My white shirts let the world know how erudite I am.”
His wife laughed, taking the fish from him. “Oh, I see. You’re so erudite that you can’t say cultured or well-educated instead?”
“Exactly. A brown shirt would render me banal.”
“Instead of just ordinary? Very well, I hope your mother has bluing or knows where I can find some.”
Their banter gave Ellen something to think on while she cut up potatoes. She knew Del had parents, but where did they live? Did he see them very often? Did they live in a little log cabin or a teepee like the plains Indians? She’d not seen enough of the natives in a while to know what sort of houses they had. Somewhat shamefully, she realized in all their time together, she’d never asked about his permanent home.
Her imagination followed several twisty paths, imagining where a Métis like him might live. Everything from a cave to a ramshackle hut was possible. She helped with the last bit of dinner, listened to her brothers first, then the other men about their days, all the while not really paying attention. Instead, she went back over every scrap of conversation she’d had with Del for clues about his true lifestyle.
“Help, sis.”
Buster shook her out of her musings. He stood there with his new shirt on but unfastened. “Don’t you look nice!” she said while buttoning him up. “Did you thank Mrs. Granville?”
He leaned against her, looking at Marie. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now come here and get your supper.”
The little boy toddled over and sat with his hands out. Marie served the freshly caught salmon, potatoes, and peach cobbler to everyone. The peaches tasted like heaven to Ellen, almost blotting out how wonderful everything else was. If this was Oregon’s campfire food, she was eager to try something from a real stove. “How much longer do we have before this journey’s end, Sam?”
“Let’s see, four days if we’re lucky. If another ox dies or a wagon axel breaks, longer.”
Four days seemed like both nothing and forever when it came to seeing Del again. She glanced up from her plate, seeing Lucky collecting dishes. Ellen ate the last couple of bites before handing him hers. A quick check of her brothers showed th
ey were already wandering around, playing among the wagon wheels. Arnold got out his diary while Lefty and Sam spread out the bed, reminding her of the Winslow journal. She’d not written anything since Pa’s death.
Ellen helped with the beds before climbing in and searching her trunk. It’d not taken long in the dry air for her books to dry. She retrieved both since they needed updating with Jack Winslow’s death. Back fireside, she opened the Bible to find that Pa had never entered in Lucy’s death. She sighed in frustration, not remembering the exact date. The clank from their dinner pail caught her attention, and she looked up to find Lucky had returned from cleaning.
Others in the group worked on their own projects. Sam and Arnold wrote, though it looked like the younger man was sketching. Lucky had his bugle out and wiped away fingerprints from the brass. Marie was sewing while Lefty quietly read to her from the Bible. Which reminded Ellen of her start in updating theirs. Finding their family record in the middle, she guessed at Lucy’s death and entered in Pa’s. She tapped her finger against the page, wondering if she should include her wedding to Del. It hadn’t happened in a church, so she closed the book and set it aside in favor of the journal.
The pages crackled open, thanks to their dunking. The pencil marks still seemed strong, so she thumbed her way to the last blank page. Not much space was left in the little book. She smiled. Just enough to write about the prior few days and the next week, then, Pa would….
Ellen stopped her thoughts right there. Pa would nothing. He’d never be able to read her thoughts ever again. Maybe the boys would later after they learned to read, but now she could write what she wanted. Not freely and not everything, but certainly about how Del had saved them from drowning and rescued her from Pointed Nose. She bit her lip, certain she’d need a new book for all the additional information. Ellen wrote far into the evening, only stopping when Lucky snored loudly enough to jar her from her thoughts. She smiled before setting the journal on top of their Bible and settling in for the night.
Rain woke up everyone. Ellen rushed to gather clothes before they were any more drenched. No one complained about the wet, she suspected due to the vast desert they’d lived through in the prior months. Coffee and breakfast were skipped in favor of getting on the road. They descended with her carrying Buster most of the way, weaving around huge rocks as the wagons bounced over smaller ones. The wet ground made traction tough, so most on foot walked along the sides. The loamy soil helped keep them from falling.
First hers then Buster’s stomach growled. He whimpered before leaning into her to avoid the rain. She’d heard something about snow as everyone rushed around but never got the chance to ask. If Sam suspected flurries, she agreed; they needed to hurry like they were. They passed a wide boggy part on the way, and she wanted to stop for a noon meal. No one even paused as they continued, so Ellen hurried up to Marie and asked, “When will we camp?”
“Not for a while. Sam said with the road narrowing, we would have plenty of time for eating while we wait for the jam to clear.” She shook her head. “He’s warned me there won’t be much room to walk alongside the animals. The road is too narrow.”
“What if someone is coming east?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Goodness.” She shifted Buster to the other hip. He squirmed, trying to slide down. “No, you need to let me carry you for now.” Ellen turned to the wheels behind them so he could see. “You don’t want those rolling over you.” She tickled his neck to distract him. “I’ll let you run free as soon as it’s safe, all right? Just be good until then.”
“I want to go with Skeets.”
“He needs to be with us too.” She peered down the side of the hill. “It’s a steep fall down there.” Buster looked where she did then at Ellen, nodding. “See? So let’s find him.”
Marie hollered to them. “I saw him with the Allen twins earlier. He’s probably walking with them still.”
“We’ll go look for him there.” She boosted her brother back onto her hip and fell back. The road was still wide enough for her to walk east. Ellen didn’t feel like backtracking, so she waited until first the Nelsons passed her and then the Allens rolled by. All the children were following with Jenny, her mother, and Mrs. Allen herding them along. She fell in step with Jenny. “How have you been?” Mrs. Allen glanced at Ellen without turning her head.
Jenny looked to her mother before responding. “I’ve been fine, and you?”
She stifled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve been good despite losing Pa.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
The short answer, while not curt, still irritated Ellen. She smiled instead of frowning and worked on being civil. “Skeeter has been playing with the twins a lot. Send him to me if he’s overstaying his welcome.”
Mrs. Allen leaned over to her a little. “He’s a fine young man, and we’re glad to see him. Your baby brother is welcome too.”
The woman’s nose wrinkled in such a way that Ellen knew she wasn’t included in the invitation. She didn’t trust herself to speak calmly, so she merely nodded. This time when Buster squirmed, she let him go play. She had a few moments of walking without his weight before the wagon in front of them came to a full halt. Going to the side and looking down the line, she discovered everyone had stopped. Sam and Arnold rode uphill to them, pausing at each wagon before reaching them.
Sam turned back to his company wagon and Arnold tipped his hat at them. “Ladies. We’ve had to stop. Not sure why, but we’ll get going as soon as possible. Boss says to grab your noon meal while you can.”
Ellen pounced on the excuse to flee from the Allens and called out to her brothers. “Boys, let’s go find Mrs. Granville.” They ran up to her and followed down to the wagon.
Marie was letting down the tailgate and climbing inside when they arrived. “I think we have some fruit left.” She reemerged from the back. “Not a lot, but it’ll tide us over until supper tonight.”
Each of them took the handful she gave. Ellen noticed how little remained in the jar. “What about the men? Won’t they want some? Maybe we should put some of ours back in there.”
“Goodness no. Sam and the boys have hardtack and jerky in case they need it.” She retrieved the rest for herself before putting the lid back on. “They’ll want to eat what they’re carrying.”
Ellen nodded, her mouth too busy chewing the leathery food to speak. She’d have to learn how to dry fruit like this for meals during the winter. The boys, she noticed, didn’t waste time eating. “I suppose we’d better get moving,” said Marie. “I hear creaking from the wagons in front of us.” She hurried to put up the jar and secure the tailgate before leading the animals.
Skeeter pulled on Ellen’s arm. “Sis! Can I go play with the twins?”
“Yes, if you take Buster with you.”
“Aw, do I have to? He’s kind of little.”
She smiled at him. “You don’t have to, but he’d like playing games with you and the others.”
“We have to stop all the time and let him go.”
“So have him go before you start playing.”
“Will that work?”
“Try it and see,” she said. He held out his hand and Buster took it. “Watch out for the wagon wheels, both of you.” Skeeter’s absentminded wave didn’t completely reassure her. Still, she knew her brother had heard enough about tragic accidents that he’d be careful. He might protest bringing Buster along, but she saw the affection the older boy had for the baby of their family.
They crept along through the forest. Most times, they hugged the hillside so much that everyone walked in single file. Needing to slow now seemed almost cruel after the breakneck speeds they’d rolled along on the flat prairie. The sun inched its way down to the horizon. It was early evening before they entered a wide valley. Foothills rose up north and south of them while the west was clear and flat ahead. The wide green expanse seemed like a dream or some paradise. Ellen knew now why so many risked so much to travel h
ere. The afternoon rains, the rich soil, and the cool temperatures left her feeling joyful and at home.
The boys straggled back to her, worn out from all the playing. Buster didn’t fuss and let her hold him while Skeeter stayed close. The road widened with each foot they descended into the valley. She marveled at her brothers’ patience. They didn’t ask about supper, knowing they’d eat when the wagon stopped. Meanwhile, she daydreamed about eating as much as anyone could fish or hunt for her.
She almost cheered when the lead wagon left the trail and headed toward a grassy meadow. The dim light cast long shadows over everything. She ignored her exhaustion and put one foot in front of the other until at last the wagon stopped rolling. Sam and his men rode up and started unsaddling horses and unhitching oxen. She let Buster slide down and stretched that side of her body. Before she could begin chores, Mr. Allen and Mr. Nelson walked up to Sam.
Nelson squinted at him and pointed a finger at the younger man. “Look, Granville, you’ve been pushing us mighty hard this past week, and we’re tired of it.”
“That’s right,” said Allen. “We either stay here a couple of days, or we’re not a part of this group anymore.”
Sam took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “You paid for me to take you to Willamette Valley and we’re not there yet. No one is going anywhere until we arrive.”
Mr. Allen took a step forward, standing toe to toe with Sam. “See, young man? You’ve had that wrong attitude all along.”
Pushing Allen aside, Nelson added, “We all listened to you until now because you seemed to know what you were doing out there in the wilderness. We’re in civilization now and Allen and I agree. We can go on from here.”
Sam lifted his chin, looking down his nose at them. “I’d prefer you didn’t.”
Nelson smirked. “That don’t matter. We’re staying a couple of days and that’s that.”
“It seems we’re all overtired.” Sam slapped his gloves against his leg. “Fine. Let’s agree to talk about this tomorrow morning after a good night’s rest.”
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