by Merry Farmer
“George,” he said. “I’m eight.”
“Right, George, come on.”
The floodgates were opened. One by one, the orphans were picked out and accepted by a couple here, a family there. In a matter of minutes, there were only five children left—the Chance family and the silent, towheaded boy, Tim. No one else came forward.
“We’ve only got a few left to find homes for,” Pete said, but the majority of the pioneers were now walking away.
“I’ll take the younger girl,” a man who had three children hanging off of him already offered.
Libby clamped a hand around her younger sister’s shoulders. “We’re not splitting up,” she said.
“Fine then.” The man who had offered for Muriel waved them off and walked away.
“What about the other boy there?” Pete tried to call after them.
“He looks sickly,” a middle-aged woman said. “Too much trouble.” She walked off herself.
Pete swiped his hat off his head and swatted it against his knee. He turned to Josephine and Estelle. “Well? Now what do you want to do?”
Josephine crossed her arms in thought, narrowing her eyes at the remaining orphans. At last, she shrugged.
“I’ll take the Chance kids.” She turned to the four of them, who were now stiff with surprise. “We can keep the orphan wagon and you can drive it, Luke.”
“Me?” Luke balked.
“You’re the oldest boy. Time to take on some responsibility.”
Luke muttered a word that Estelle wouldn’t have been caught dead saying in public. To her side, Graham snorted with laughter. She turned to him, arms crossed and brow raised.
“Sorry,” Graham murmured an apology, but the laughter was still in his eyes.
The Chance children headed off with Josephine, which left little Tim standing all by himself. He was a pale, scrawny thing, and the strain of being the only one left, standing alone where everyone could see him, had the poor boy nearly in tears. Estelle’s heart went out to him. She knew too well what it was like to be a singled-out child. Part of her wanted to run to him and hug him and tell him it would be all right. Part of her doubted she had the ability or the right to ask a child to trust her when her situation could change on a dime with one burst of recognition.
Pete blew out a breath and headed toward Estelle and Graham. It was only then that Estelle realized the two of them were the only ones who hadn’t fled the scene in guilt.
“Miss Estelle, Graham, I’m gonna ask the two of you for a big, big favor,” he said.
Estelle caught her breath.
“I… Me?” Graham stammered.
Pete shrugged. “There’s nobody left.”
Estelle clutched a hand to her heart and looked past Pete at Tim. He met her eyes with such mournful hope, such frail misery, that tears nearly overtook her.
“It’s not forever,” Pete went on. “Just until we get to Oregon City. He’s a tiny little thing, but he’s not sickly. At least not as far as I know. I haven’t heard him say a word since we set out, but that might be for the best. He won’t get in the way.”
“He’s the one who nearly ran over you the day we set out,” Graham said. He too was watching Tim and being watched in return.
“He was,” Estelle remembered with a nod, “but I do believe he was being chased by bigger boys at the time.”
At last, she turned to face Graham. He darted a sideways glance to her at the same time. They had to do this. They could do it if they did it together.
Estelle nodded. Hadn’t she sworn to herself a dozen times in the last day that she would do a better job of keeping her distance from Graham? That it wouldn’t do her any good to get closer to him than she already was?
Graham turned to Pete and stood as straight as he could. He nodded. “We’ll take him.”
And just like that, for the time being at least, Estelle became a mother, and Graham a father.
Chapter Six
It never ceased to amaze Estelle how quickly children could recover from hardship and trauma. By the time the wagon train rolled into Ft. Kearney after more than two weeks of walking, they were back to their old selves, smiling, laughing, and in the case of the Chance children, getting into trouble.
“Where are my knickers?” Josephine’s voice sounded from inside her wagon.
Freddy and Muriel Chance giggled from the spot where they were hiding behind a stack of supply crates that Pete had just purchased from the fort. They had found a small pot of black paint somewhere and were busy painting a smiling face on the seat of Josephine’s drawers.
From where she worked gathering the crew’s laundry into a large basket by the side of her wagon, Estelle grinned at them, trying to keep her laughter in check. She shouldn’t encourage the little devils. They were far too high-spirited already. But the sun was shining, the weather wasn’t as hot as it had been for the past few days, and best of all, Graham was in a hopeful mood.
“It’s only my first attempt,” Gideon explained as he fitted a roughly carved wooden leg to Graham’s stump. “If the design works, I’ll find a way to go back and smooth out the edges, give it more realistic detail.”
Graham only hummed in response. He watched Gideon work with an unreadable expression. Estelle knew him well enough to guess at the hopes he had for what the wooden leg could do, but beyond that, he seemed wary. He tossed a glance over his shoulder to where Tim stood.
Tim watched the proceedings with wide eyes. He still hadn’t spoken a word to either Graham or Estelle. Josephine had found out from Libby Chance that Tim was five years old, but he looked no more than four. He clung to Graham’s side, mouth pressed shut, and stared at both Graham’s stump and the wooden leg in awe, with a smidgen of terror.
“You don’t have to look if it frightens you,” Graham told him, his words clumsy. “Do you want to go help Estelle with the laundry instead?”
Tim shook his head, still focused on what Gideon was doing.
“There,” Gideon said with a grunt as he fastened the last strap around Graham’s leg. “Try that.”
Estelle lowered the shirt she’d been shaking out and held her breath as Graham stood. Hank and Isaiah were working nearby and stopped what they were doing to watch as well. Gideon helped Graham up, but as soon as he was on his feet, Gideon stepped back.
Graham held out his arms for balance as he tested his weight on the wooden leg. He couldn’t hide the emotion in his eyes now, the shock and the uncertainty. A flash of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth before he stifled it. Slowly, he tried to take a step forward. Isaiah turned away from what he was doing to watch, arms crossed, frowning.
Right away, a wince of pain twisted Graham’s expression, and he pitched forward as he put weight on the wooden leg. Gideon caught him.
“What? What is it?” Gideon asked, more in line with scientific inquiry than worry or concern.
“It’s….” Graham paused, righting himself. He balanced again. “It’s sore. I didn’t realize I’d be so tender.”
Gideon nodded, crouching to study the point where the wooden leg met Graham’s stump. “Perhaps some more padding. Although that would interfere with the length, as anything soft would compact over time.”
Graham sent Estelle a sidelong glance, then tilted his head toward Tim, who continued to hang back by the barrel Graham had been sitting on. He needed her to take Tim away, to get him to stop watching.
“Tim,” she said, bending to pick up the heavy basket of laundry. “I need you to carry the soap and the washboard, sweetheart.”
Tim tore his eyes away from Graham’s leg. He pursed his lips, stealing one last peek at Graham, then let out a breath and scurried across the open area of the camp to Estelle. It was just a shame she couldn’t figure out how to get Isaiah and Hank to stop watching as well.
As Tim picked up the washboard and soap, Josephine emerged from the back of her wagon. Freddy and Muriel had finished their work on her drawers and had planted them where she coul
d see them.
“Land sakes,” she exclaimed, rushing forward to snatch up the garment. She held them up, and if Estelle wasn’t mistaken, fought to keep a grin under wraps. “Why, you rapscallions,” she went on as Freddy and Muriel burst out of their hiding place, giggling, and shot off toward the river. “I’ll tan your hides,” she called after them.
As soon as they were gone, Josephine sighed and balled up her britches. “Hold up,” she told Estelle. “Looks like I need to come with you to do laundry.”
“We’ll wait.”
Estelle exchanged a glance with Tim. Of all things, Tim smiled in return, revealing that his two front teeth were missing and only tiny bits of the adult teeth that would replace them had grown in. It was the last straw. Estelle burst into laughter that shook her shoulders.
She caught Graham looking in her direction at the sound. He too smiled.
Sense warred with emotion in Estelle’s heart. Graham was far too tempting when he smiled like that. They’d kept a safe distance from each other in the last week, concentrating on Tim, but the attraction was there and it was strong. In spite of herself, emotion won out and she turned back to Graham.
“Do you want to come down to the river with us?” she asked. “You could go swimming.”
Graham hesitated. His eyes held longing, but in the end, he shook his head and said, “We’ve got work to do here.”
Estelle had no reason to be disappointed, so she chased away the feeling when it snuck up on her. She nodded to Graham, and when Josephine reappeared from her wagon with a basket laundry, they started toward the river.
“I tell you,” Josephine began, “that fine young man has eyes for you.”
“We’re just friends,” Estelle replied so fast she must have looked as guilty as sin.
Josephine laughed. “Friends don’t send each other pitiful, longing looks across the camp when the other isn’t looking.”
Estelle’s heart missed a beat. “He does that?”
Again, Josephine laughed. “No, sweetheart, you do.”
From that point on, Estelle kept her mouth shut. Her face burned with embarrassment, but with something warmer and fonder too. She needed to get a hold of herself, and quickly. It helped that Isaiah had apparently decided to give Graham and Gideon some privacy as well. He ambled down to the river, several yards behind Estelle, Tim, and Josephine, then sat back to watch, as if he was guarding them, once they got there. As anxious as Isaiah made her, Estelle made up her mind to ignore him.
Lucy was already at the river, up to her calves in the shallows, trying to work out the best way to scrub her dresses.
“There you are,” she said, straightening and taking a break to greet her friends. “It seems like everyone is down here doing laundry today. I never had to do these sorts of chores at home, but I’m determined to master them now. Was Gideon up at your wagon with Graham?”
She tacked the question on the end of her thought subtly, but Estelle noted the flush that came to her cheeks as she did.
“He made a wooden leg for Graham,” Estelle confirmed, keeping her own words as simple as possible. “They’re up there testing it out.”
“Gideon Faraday. Huh,” Josephine said, crossing her arms and studying Lucy. “Who would have thought.”
“He’s nice,” Lucy replied, blushing hotter than ever.
“Roll up your pants and I’ll teach you how to do laundry,” Estelle told Tim, ruffling his hair.
She tied up her own skirts, took off her shoes, and within minutes, she and Tim were up to their elbows in river water and suds.
Enough silt had been kicked up by the women wading through to give the water a faint brown hue, and with so many suds floating on top, it looked as though it was made of beer. Estelle worked through it, a smile on her face.
“Scrub like this,” she instructed Tim, taking the washboard in hand. “Not too hard or you’ll rub holes in the fabric.”
“That was my problem when I did laundry a few days ago,” Lucy laughed. “It’s why my petticoats will never be the same again. At least I didn’t rub holes in my drawers. Imagine that.”
A giggle rippled through Tim. Estelle winked at him in approval. It was such a pleasant change to see the boy happy, even with other people nearby.
Freddy and Muriel Chance had joined a group of kids now splashing in the shallows of the river. Libby was watching them, but her eyes were trained on the horizon, and a faraway look glazed her eyes. It was a look Estelle knew well, one she’d worn in her own eyes when she was that age.
“Good job,” Estelle told Tim as he worked one of Pete’s shirts over the washboard with a frown of concentration. “You’re an awfully big help for a little boy.”
Tim graced her with a wide smile.
“You’re a saint to take on a child like that,” Ruth called out from where she was laying out her laundry on the riverbank, no regard for whether Tim might hear her.
Estelle glanced over at Ruth, Viola, and their group of friends as they brought their laundry to the river.
“He’s a darling thing.” Estelle smiled at Tim.
“It’s right charitable what you suggested for them, but I just about fell out when Mr. Evans looked to us to take one of those vagrants in,” Ruth went on. “Why, just look at them.”
Keeping her smile as best she could, Estelle glanced at the splashing children. Freddy and one of his friends had found a frog somewhere in the water and were sneaking up on Josephine’s laundry basket. Josephine, for her part, was pretending she didn’t notice.
“They’re clever, I’ll give you that,” Estelle called back over to Ruth.
“Clever? Ha,” Viola barked.
Ruth hummed in agreement. She finished spreading her laundry out to dry, stood to stretch her back, and gave Estelle a curious look.
“You’re very good with children,” she said. “Good for a single woman. Were you a teacher?”
“No,” Estelle answered. “I have younger siblings, and I used to mind the other slav—”
She stopped dead, heat flooding her face. She shot a swift glance up to the riverbank, where Isaiah was sitting, smiling at something downriver. It was stupid of her to let the pleasant afternoon and the rhythm of work cause her to slip like that. Stupid and dangerous. She cleared her throat.
“I took care of some of the other children on the plantation,” she said instead, hoping Ruth wouldn’t think to catch her mistake.
When Ruth didn’t say anything else, Estelle peeked up to find her staring. Ruth had her head cocked to the side and her hands on her hips. That was it, the look that people got right before they put the pieces together. Estelle touched her bonnet to be sure it was in place, hiding her hair.
“I thought about being a teacher,” she rushed on, scrambling to come up with a story that would make excuses for what she’d almost said. “But my…my family needed me at home, on the plantation.”
“Then why have they let you come west all by yourself?” Ruth’s frown deepened.
Estelle’s heart thumped as she scrambled for an answer. “My…uh…my father wanted me to have more of an opportunity than what he saw ahead for the plantation after the war.” She stuck to the truth as much as possible while hoping to put Ruth’s curiosity to rest. “I may still become a teacher in Oregon.”
Ruth’s curious stare lasted a few more seconds before she let it go on a breath. “I certainly wish my Jimmy had had a good teacher before we left Rochester. I’m afraid he’ll fall behind on his lessons during the summer.”
“Oh!” Lucy stood straight so suddenly that she splashed as loudly as the children. “I have an idea.”
“Is that so?” Estelle was grateful she could turn the conversation over to the one person in their midst who she could count on to talk until all other ideas were buried in an avalanche of chatter.
“Yes.” Lucy scooped the last of her clothes out of the river and carried them to the riverbank to wring them out. “Seeing as there are so many children in o
ur wagon train, and knowing that they could fall behind in their studies, why don’t we start a sort of trail school?”
“A trail school?” Estelle asked, hoping to push the idea along. “What do you think, Ruth?”
Whatever suspicions had been on their way to sneaking up on Ruth had vanished. This time when she tipped her head to the side in thought it was with a lift of her brow and a faint smile.
“A trail school might be a grand idea,” she said. “We should have a council meeting to talk about it.”
“Olivia is a teacher,” Lucy went on. “We could ask her to do it. I’d be willing to help, and I’m sure you would too, Estelle, if you have time.”
“My wagon train crew duties keep me busy for now, but I’ll do what I can,” Estelle said. “We should ask Olivia. Where is she?”
“She’s off with that Charlie Garrett right now. Promised she’d help him sew a button or mend a shoelace or something like that.”
Josephine stood straighter at the information. She had a sparkle in her eye when she met Estelle’s. “Charlie Garrett and Olivia, eh?”
“Don’t go putting the wagon before the oxen,” Estelle grinned at her. “And you might want to check your laundry basket.”
She nodded past Josephine to where Freddy and his pal had just tossed the frog and turned to scamper off. Josephine whipped around in time to have the poor frog jump right out at her. She gasped and hollered before she could stop herself.
“You boys.” She bent over to scoop up the frog, then went chasing after them. “You think you can frighten me off with a little toad like this? I’ve eaten frogs bigger than this in one gulp.”
“Well,” Viola exclaimed from the slope of the riverbank, shaking her head. “She may be a woman of means from a big city, but she has the manners of an alley cat.” She caught Estelle looking at her. “She’s not a fine lady. Not like you, Miss Estelle.”
Estelle’s lips twitched. She wasn’t sure how she should face a slight to someone she respected when it was couched as a compliment to her.
She didn’t have to figure it out.
“Good morning, ladies,” Graham called to them as he and Gideon made their slow way to the river.