Murmurs went through the crowd.
“It’s a matter of safety. More delay and we might become trapped in snowstorms which could result in many deaths. ”
They sang three hymns and retired to their wagons.
“Thank you, Preacher.” Capt. Burgess said while shaking his hand. “I know it was a painful decision. We’ll be at the Dalles soon enough and then it’s just a brief boat ride to Portland.”
Chapter Twelve: Jessa’s Story/Oregon Trail
Jessa and Daire stood and looked over the gently-lowing-cattle which grazed fifty-yards from the wagon train’s evening encampment. A drover approached on horseback.
“Howdy Ladies.” He slid off his saddle and removed his hat. “I’m Charles Wagoner.”
She gave him a curt nod of her head. “Jessa Hendricks.”
“Daire Devlin.”
“Miss Hendricks, I hear tell there’s been some friction twixt you and your family.”
“They won’t even talk to me.” She returned her gaze to the cattle. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have commented on family matters.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
The drover fidgeted with the brim of his hat. Daire walked a few steps away from the two but remained in earshot. “Miss Hendricks, I own six-hundred-sixty-acres north of Ft. Boise. Fifty of these cattle are mine. I’m adding them to the herd I own up there. I done asked around and everyone says you’re a right fine lady. There’s a decent cabin on my land and I have enough money to build you a proper house.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a future.”
Jessa spoke in an anger tinged voice. “Are you touched or something? I’m with child. An Indian’s child.”
He ground the toe of his boot into the dirt. “We’re all God’s children, Miss Hendricks. I’s born in Texas and that’s what those what raised me taught me.”
“You’re a fool. Get away from me.”
“Sorry to have troubled you.” He mounted his horse and trotted away.
“He seems a nice man,” Daire said.
“Did seem sincere,” Jessa said with a shrug.
“If things don’t improve with your family, maybe you should consider his offer.”
* * *
A week later and after suffering another week of contempt from her family, Jessa in the company of Daire, appeared at a campsite where four drovers sat on the ground next to a fire.
“I wish to speak with Mr. Wagoner, please.”
He stood and they walked away from the others.
Jessa cleared her throat and said, “I might never see my family again if I leave with you.”
“Seems like they ain’t real anxious to have you around.”
Jessa glared at him. “They’re still my family.”
Charles did his best to smile. “I’m an orphan ma’am. Our children would be our family.”
She shook her head, turned slightly away from him but remained where she was.
The drover looked at Daire who nodded in Jessa’s direction
He cleared his throat. “It’s beautiful country up there. Good clean air to raise children. None of that stink like the cities.”
She remained motionless.
“Miss Hendricks, why did you come out here?”
“I was giving thought to a possible future.”
“And…”
After a pause, she continued, “I have lots of anger in me since I was attacked. I may not be the most pleasant person to have around.”
“Miss Daire says you’re one of the nicest folks she knows. Coming from her, that’s good enough for me.”
Jessa spun her head in Daire’s direction.
Daire nodded. “It’s true…no matter what your folks are saying. There’s lots to do on a ranch. You might find some peace in that.”
The pregnant girl took a deep breath. “When will we be in Ft. Boise?”
Charles smiled. “Sometime tomorrow.”
“Is there a preacher in Ft. Boise?”
His expression brightened. “Yes Ma’am. Nice Church as well.”
“If anything you’ve told me is a lie…”
“I wouldn’t. If anything ain’t like I’m tellin’ it, I’ll bring you back to the wagon train. Y’all got my word on that.”
“If anything you’ve told me is a lie,” Jessa said with hands on hips. “I’ll flatten you like a buffalo stampede.”
* * *
A sudden snowfall dumped eight inches of snow on the trail, and was accompanied by below freezing temperatures and brutal winds. A group gathered around a fire, trying to keep warm.
“It may remain cool as we head into the Blue Mountains,” Captain Burgess said, holding his hands out toward the flames. “Our progress has slowed considerably. May not have made five miles today. I’m going to talk to Preacher Straus about traveling on Sunday.”
“He’ll pitch a fit over that,” Mrs. Beckham said.
“Daire,” Dr. Beckham asked, “is that blood on your skirt?”
“My cuts,” Daire said as she lifted her skirt a few inches to show cuts around her ankles. “It’s the ice you know.”
“What ice?” Dr. Beckham asked.
“It forms on the bottom of our dresses as they drag on the snow.”
Dr. Beckham looked at his wife. She raised her skirt to reveal her left ankle with a similar injury. Mrs. Kelsey did the same.
“No one told me this was going on,” he said.
Mrs. Beckham said, “Most woman suffer in silence from this.”
Mrs. Kelsey laughed. “As we do about most things.”
His brow furrowed. “If these injuries become diseased, I may be removing feet.”
“We’ve been discussing the problem. Time to begin wearing bloomers,” Mrs. Beckham said.
“I agree,” Mrs. Kelsey said.
“They’ll likely be some resistance to that,” Dr. Beckham said.
“Daire, Mrs. Kelsey, and I will wear them beginning tomorrow.”
Mrs. Kelsey chortled. “Wonder what Preacher Straus will think about that?”
* * *
“Women shouldn’t dress like men,” Preacher Straus implored the following morning.
“That’s why we’re wearing bloomers—not britches,” Mrs. Beckham said.
“It’s wrong, I tell you.”
“Come talk to me away from these folks,” his wife said.
Daire watched as Preacher Straus’s eyes widened as his wife raised the front of her dress to show the bloody damage the ice had caused.
“Is there no other way?” he asked.
By the next day, roughly one-third of the woman wore bloomers. The balance of the women would leave a trail of blood stains and tears going into the mountains and a number would lose their feet as the doctor had predicted.
* * *
On Sunday morning, a crowd gathered for church service.
“I’ve done some hard, hard praying about this,” Preacher Straus said. Tears welled up in his eyes. “We’re going to have a brief service this morning and” he looked skyward, “Lord, please pardon us…we begin traveling as on any other day.”
Murmurs went through the crowd.
“It’s a matter of safety. More delay and we might become trapped in snowstorms which could result in many deaths. ”
They sang three hymns and retired to their wagons.
“Thank you, Preacher.” Capt. Burgess said while shaking his hand. “I know it was a painful decision. We’ll be at the Dalles soon enough and then it’s just a brief boat ride to Portland.”
Chapter Thirteen: Outdoor Lessons
Myra, William, Nathan, and Celeste, greeted Kim and Monica at the general store. The boys approached Kim while Celeste, Monica and Myra discussed cooking
“Mrs. Holt,” eight-year-old William asked, “Nathan and I were wondering, what was it like living outside all the time?”
She smil
ed and said, “You learn to work with nature instead of fighting it.”
“Like what?” William asked.
“When cold weather occurs, you put on appropriate clothing.”
Nathan carefully considered her words. “But what happens when there’s snow everywhere? How can you work with snow?”
“Ask your parents if they’ll let me take you outdoors this weekend. Andre and I can teach you many skills.”
The duo ran to Myra.
“Mrs. Holt wants to take us to live outside this weekend,” Nathan said.
Myra replied, “You may but I expect nothing but excellent behavior.”
“What about Celeste?” William said.
“I’d like to go,” she said.
With delight in their eyes, the children ran back to Kim. She told them, “We’ll meet Saturday morning at our cabin. Dress warm.”
* * *
“When the boys asked about the two day trip, William asked if Celeste could go as well.” Myra smiled as she David, and Kathleen were busy canning the last of the garden’s produce. “William and Celeste are such a wonderful brother and sister.”
David became pensive then shook his head. “No. No they’re not. Watch closely. They’re more like close friends. If they were older, I’d say boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“They’re little more than children,” Myra said.
Kathleen mentioned a few of their interactions she’d observed, thought for a while and said, “I believe David is right.”
* * *
“First we need shelter,” Andre said after they hiked four-miles from home and into the snow-covered foothills of the Cascades. “The boys and I will make a lean-to and I will teach them how to start a fire.”
“The girls and I will dig a snow cave,” Kimimela said.
After a number of hours of activity, each group demonstrated the results of their efforts.
“The snow cave was pretty neat,” William said as he and the others sat on pine branches around the fire.
“It was a lot of work but in an emergency at least you’d be out of the weather,” Celeste said.
“The boys will sleep in the lean-to tonight and the girls in the snow cave,” Kimimela said.
William wrinkled his face after he bit off a piece of pemmican. “Kinda chewy,” he said.
“But delicious when you’re hungry and don’t have anything else to eat,” Andre said.
“Who has cold feet?” Kimimela asked.
“Mine aren’t exactly warm,” Celeste said.
Andre unrolled a piece of deer hide. “How about making yourself a pair of boots?”
The children watched in fascination as Kimimela’s dexterous fingers used a knife and bone needle to fashion one boot and then guided the children as they completed the second.
“My feet are warm as a sunny day,” Celeste declared after trying out the knee-high boots.
They hadn’t gone far on the hike back home, when a dog growled at them.
“He has the dog sickness. See the foam around his mouth?” Andre said.
“What should we do?” Nathan asked.
“Stay still.” He removed a pistol from his waist.
He pointed it at the dog and pulled the trigger. It only clicked.
The dog ran at them.
A silvery flash left Kimimela’s hand and struck the dog who yelped once and collapsed.
“My Mom’s pretty good throwing a knife,” Monica said wearing a huge grin.
“Good? I’d say that was great,” Celeste said.
“Look over there!” William pointed as two skiers slid into view and came to a halt next to the amazed children.
“What are those? Snow sliders?” William asked.
The duo laughed. In a thickly accented voice, the man replied, “They’re called skis. We’re from Norway and this is how we get around in winter.”
“How do you go uphill?” Monica asked.
The woman said, “We attach skins which allows us to ascend.”
“Keep an eye out,” the man said. “We heard wolves last night.”
They watched in fascination as the skier’s schussed down the balance of the trail.
“I gotta learn to do that,” William said. The others nodded agreement.
“When we travel outside of town, we are surrounded by wild animals,” Andre said. “An important rule, perhaps the most important one when hunting, is to watch for animals that may be hunting you!”
They continued walking back to town. William noted Monica walking last.
“You walk in front of me. I can watch behind us so no wolves sneak up on us.”
“I can do that.”
“My Uncle Jack taught me how to be a scout so it should be me. You can help if you want but I need to be the last one.”
Kimimela glanced over her shoulder at the procession. She smiled when she saw Monica and William stop and carefully survey the scene behind them before continuing.
Back at the cabin, the Kaplan children thanked the Holts and hurried to their own home bursting with stories to tell their parents.
* * *
Two weeks later, Dr. Beckham arrived at the Kaplan home. Myra and Kathleen greeted him.
“I have some sad news to relate. A hunter encountered the remains of a wolf ravaged body. He found it just into the foothills at the top of a steep trail,” Dr. Beckham said to Myra and Kathleen. “It’s Andre.”
The trio walked out to Kimimela’s cabin. She was bringing an arm load of kindling into the cabin when she saw the long-faced-trio approach.
“No,” she screamed, putting up her hands as if that would stop the awful news.
“Kim, I’m so sorry.”
She and Kathleen helped her into the cabin.
* * *
After the funeral at the Catholic cemetery, Kathleen asked Kim where she would live.
“Not sure. We lived here because Andre worked for you.”
“You can stay there,” Myra said.
“Thank you but I need to find work and should get a smaller place.”
“Mr. Anchote and his family lived at the back of our dress shop until he found his own place,” Myra said. “We can rent that space to you cheaper than the cabin.”
“Why don’t you begin sewing leather jackets,” Kathleen said. “You design them and I’ll assign you a helper. We can discuss how to price them when you feel up to it. Personally, I’d love a shearling lined jacket and I know my family would as well.”
Kim smiled at her friends. “Thank you for your kindness.” She stopped walking and put a hand on her nine-month swollen belly. She turned to her friends. “My water. My baby is coming.”
That evening, Kim delivered fraternal twins, Andre and Alex.
Chapter Fourteen: Kathleen’s Dismay
“It certainly has been warm,” Kathleen said the following summer while sipping iced tea in her kitchen along with Myra.
Her sister said, “Even the children sleep with their windows open.”
Without looking up from her tea, Kathleen said, “They heard us shouting again?”
Myra nodded. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I know the children are in school but is Ciara awake?”
“Taking a nap.”
Kathleen stirred more sugar into her tea, then twisted on her chair. “He left for Salem today.”
“You don’t like him traveling?”
“I look forward to it.”
“Why?”
Kathleen sighed and said, “When he returns, he’ll find separate beds in our room. I told him last night.”
“Kathleen…”
“Andrew is every woman’s dream. Good income. Amazing father to Jack. Great husband.”
“But?”
Kathleen shivered. “My skin crawls when he touches me.”
“You’ve been married for nearly a year.”
“And everything’s great except the bed part.”
They sipped their teas in silence until
Myra asked, “How long has it been?”
“The last time was at least four months ago.”
“Doesn’t your body…”
Kathleen interrupted. “Yes, it wants a man.”
“Why not Andrew?”
Kathleen squirmed on her chair then banged the table with her fist. “My God Myra, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure it out. What the hell’s wrong with me?”
“Was there a problem with you and Jack?”
She smiled at the memory. “When we sailed out here after our wedding, I hardly saw the ocean for all the times we retired to our cabin.”
“Do other men still attract you?”
“Well…” Kathleen again twisted on her chair. “Two weeks ago, that muscular carpenter who worked on our houses making changes to the interior…”
Myra’s eyes went wide. She said in a remonstrating voice, “Kathleen, you didn’t…”
Kathleen shrugged. “Andrew was out of town for the week. I carried a pitcher of water up to my bedroom. He was wearing work overalls but no shirt. One glance and my body was on fire. I slipped out of my shoes, undid the fasteners on the back of my dress and pulled it over my head. I walked up to him and unsnapped the overall’s shoulder straps.”
“Did Andrew find out?”
“No.” She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and grinned. “But, heaven forgive me, it was great.”
“He’s not your husband.”
Kathleen shook her head and said, “I didn’t care. After we finished, I let him rest then made him want me again.”
“This is so wrong.”
“Of course it is but the damn carpenter satisfied me for the first time since Jack senior died.”
The Pioneer: A Journey to the Pacific Page 8