Crossing the Wide Forever

by Missouri Vaun

  *

  Cody looked up at Lillie sitting on the wagon’s bench seat above her. She led the oxen along, keeping step with them across the well-traveled grass. On leaving Independence there’d been so many wagons departing that the canvas tops wound across the prairie like some long white serpent on an endless field of green.

  Their group had started in the early morning. They followed the Santa Fe Trail southwest onto the blue-green prairie. Rattlesnake master and coneflower grew young and succulent. Lupine was in bloom and Indian paintbrush, scarlet set against all the green grass.

  There were fourteen wagons in the company with yokes of oxen leading each, including Cody and Lillie’s. About thirty head of loose cows and calves and fourteen horses traveled with the group, including Shadow.

  The journey was too rough and the loads too heavy for horse teams, so Shadow was relegated to walking behind the wagon on a long lead. There might be times when Lillie would prefer to ride him, but this first morning she’d chosen the high front seat of the covered wagon. Seeing how Lillie was getting jostled about, she figured it wouldn’t be long until she joined Cody on the ground and walked.

  The rolling prairie lay ahead, and Cody scanned the sweeping distance to find any object to rest her eyes on, but there was nothing.

  Earlier in the day she’d spotted a stream up ahead with a cluster of trees gathered at its banks, but otherwise there’d been scarcely a shrub. The exposed prairie rolled in front of them. They’d climbed a slight rise and crested it, only to be met with more prairie as far as she could see.

  She made mental notes of all her observations so that she could set them down on paper to be included in the next letter she sent to Ellen. Cody had posted a brief letter to Ellen, her aunt, and uncle the day before. She figured by the time the letter arrived in Arkansas she’d be in Kansas.

  Mr. Alexander seemed to know the route well so far. The plan was to travel with the group as far as Council Grove, then Cody and Lillie would follow a secondary trail south toward Emporia. Lillie’s farm was just north of the fledgling community.

  Cody hoped Lillie’s attorney had given them an accurate accounting of farm equipment that had been left. According to the estate, there was a breaking plow, rigging, and other tools and tack still on the property.

  In addition to Lillie’s two trunks and Cody’s meager belongings, they’d loaded the wagon with axes, saws, carpentry tools, and seed potatoes. Cody wasn’t sure what they’d need, and she had tried to be prepared for anything required to repair the wagon should they run into trouble or break a wheel.

  The lumbering sway-backed prairie schooner was also decked out with a spade and a hoe. Buckets and pails dangled noisily underneath. Boys of all ages, barefoot and shaggy-haired, trudged alongside some of the wagons. Now and then, Cody saw a sun-bonneted girl drive a small cluster of cows.

  As the sun dipped low, the company arranged themselves for the night. The weather was fair and the sky clear so they didn’t circle the wagons, and the cattle were left to graze nearby at their leisure.

  Cody dug a hole in the sod and built a fire with wood they’d brought with them. Lillie had poured canned beans into a cast iron pot. Cody set the pot down in the coals like a Dutch oven. They’d brought a loaf of bread with them so there was no need to make biscuits just yet.

  Lillie watched Cody stir the fire from the back of the wagon. She’d used the rear gate of the wagon as a makeshift table, which had worked fairly well. She was tired and her lower back ached from the few hours she’d spent rocking back and forth in the wagon seat. Cody had warned her that walking might end up feeling less tiring in the long run. If prompted, she’d have to admit that Cody might have been right.

  Tonight’s meal would be beans, bread, cheese, and coffee. Simple.

  But nothing about this journey was truly simple.

  She’d sent a letter to her mother and sisters before they left Independence just to set their minds at ease. However, her outer calm was all an act. Inside, Lillie was a churning mess of nerves. She and Cody had crossed some great divide physically, and that was reason enough to be anxious. But now, on top of the increasingly more intimate moments shared in bed, she was currently adrift in a frontier landscape. On both counts, it was an adventure almost too grand to fully grasp.

  As the wagon left the safety of Independence, the ruts of the trail had sloped over several gentle rises, past clumps of cottonwood trees and low shrubs gathered near creek beds. They’d crossed two handsome timber bridges over fast moving streams.

  Initially, Lillie had thought all the stories of the desolate plains had possibly been tall tales to keep the less courageous from venturing forth. But as the timber bridges and cottonwoods faded into the distance behind them and nothing lay ahead but a boundless sea of open grass, she began to feel less sure of herself.

  The expansiveness of the landscape was hypnotic and exhilarating, and it made her feel small.

  Lillie walked toward the fire. Halfway there, she paused and looked up. She’d never seen so many stars. The view made her feel even more insignificant under the vast heavenly display. The night sky wheeled above clearer than she’d ever seen it in the East. She felt exposed beneath the elements, and for an instant longed for the nearness of the city.

  “How are you feeling?” The fire lit Cody’s features.

  “My back is a bit stiff.” Lillie moved closer to the fire and sat on one of the wooden folding chairs Cody had placed there. Maybe later she’d share her feelings about the vastness of the firmament, but not right now.

  “I can rub your back for you later if you like.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I wonder if we should have brought a tent.” Several in the group had canvas tents, purchased from army suppliers pitched near their wagons.

  “I’m glad we’re not sleeping on the ground. Even if we’re a little cramped, I’d prefer to sleep in the wagon. I mean, what if a storm came suddenly or what if there were wolves about…or snakes.” Her words had come out all in a rush, betraying her nervousness at being so outside her natural element. Lillie prided herself on knowing things, and when she didn’t know things she prided herself on how quick she could adapt and learn. But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

  “Hey, don’t fret. Snakes don’t like us any more than we like them.” Cody put her hand on Lillie’s shoulder.

  The small physical contact settled Lillie. She looked up at Cody. “Thank you.”

  “We can just sit here and enjoy the fire and be entertained by everyone trying to get their tents upright in the dark.” Cody sat down.

  They’d only been seated for a moment when they heard someone approach.

  “Hey there.” Griffin appeared out of the near darkness with Nan on his heels.

  “Hey yourself.” Cody stood and motioned for Nan to take her chair.

  “We thought we’d come see you tonight because we’ll be leaving you tomorrow.” Griffin sank his hands in his pockets and looked down at the fire as if he were afraid to look at them and betray some emotional attachment.

  “Really, so soon?” Lillie had hoped for more time with Nan. She felt as if they’d barely gotten a chance to be friends.

  “Yeah, the Oregon trail splits off tomorrow and heads northwest.” Griffin scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt. “At least two other wagons will be splitting off with us.”

  Cody extended her hand to Griffin. “You take care of yourself, friend.”

  “And you do the same. You’re a good man, Cody Walsh.” Griffin took Cody’s hand and held it firmly.

  “Oh, Nan, I’m not ready to say good-bye.” Lillie reached for Nan and hugged her tightly.

  “Me either.” Nan was about to cry. “You take good care of each other, you and Cody. I’ll think of you often.”

  “Write to us when you get settled. Send a letter care of the postmaster in Emporia. That way we’ll be sure to get it.”

  “I will write as soon as we’re settled in Oregon.”


  *

  Climbing into the back of the wagon to sleep after supper reminded Cody of how much she’d walked. Her legs ached with fatigue.

  She’d used boards to create a platform for the cotton filled mattress they’d brought with them. Once the boards were in place, she unrolled the mattress and lay down. Lillie climbed up to join her in the cramped space, and as she did, Cody raised her booted foot in Lillie’s direction.

  “What’s that for?” Lillie regarded her dusty boot with a look of distaste on her face.

  “Be a good wife will you and pull my boots off.” Cody had a playful look on her face.

  “Oh, is that what good wives do?” Lillie worked Cody’s boot free and tossed it out the back opening of the canvas cover. It hit the grass with a muffled thump.

  Before Cody could protest, she grabbed for the other boot and did the same.

  “Hey!” Cody half sat up. “Some critter will make off with those!”

  “Well, then, you should probably retrieve them.”

  Lillie stepped aside as Cody got to her sock feet and climbed down to rescue her boots. She returned to find Lillie had taken her spot. She looked up at Cody, feigning innocence. A smile slowly lit her face.

  “Maybe I didn’t get the proper instruction of exactly how to be a good wife.” Lillie propped up on one elbow.

  “Well, if you’ve had any instruction at all I’d say it didn’t take.” Cody dropped her boots on the tiny bit of floor left to stand on. She tied down the back canvas flap and then squeezed into the narrow space beside Lillie.

  “Are you sleeping in your clothes?”

  “Tonight I am. I seem to be sharing my camp with a prankster. I’d best be prepared for mischief of any kind.” She smiled, even though her eyes were closed.

  “Didn’t I hear some promise earlier of a back rub?”

  “Uh huh…maybe…if I hadn’t had to use my last bit of energy to climb down and get my boots.” Cody grinned and pretended to be trying to sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The camp had woken before dawn, and by seven the train was moving over the vast prairie again. At the five-mile mark, the trail for Oregon split off. Cody stood supportively off to the side as Lillie and Nan shared a tearful farewell. Then the main group, eleven wagons in all, continued west on the Santa Fe Trail.

  As they traveled farther, the prairie grass was broken up with shrubs and small spindly trees showing from shallow ravines. Maybe in heavy rains these ravines were creek beds, but Cody was just guessing about that. The last ten miles bore nothing but grass.

  Late in the afternoon, they passed two graves, a woman and a child. It seemed that lives began and lives ended and the trail had no concern for either condition; it simply carried on.

  As they set up that evening, three Indians followed some of the emigrants into camp. They appeared friendly, so Mr. Alexander fed them and sent them on their way at dusk.

  Cody wondered what the native peoples thought of the settlers with their houses on wheels. The whole of it must have seemed strange and foreign and foreshadowing, for these native people of the prairie would surely bear the brunt of westward expansion.

  A verse from Proverbs came to mind as she watched the half-nude men recede into the twilight. Every way of a man is right in his own eyes. But the Lord weighs the heart. She wondered what the measure of her own heart would be in the Lord’s accounting.

  She’d stolen her father’s horse and his gun. She’d disguised herself as a man. She wanted to make love to a woman that she worried she was falling hard for. Cody figured she’d certainly embraced new life in a way that had never been imagined by those who’d put the idea forward as an endorsement and reason for westward expansion.

  Dinner finished and put away, Cody was ready for rest.

  Cody climbed up into the wagon first. She turned back when Lillie didn’t follow her right away.

  “I think you’re going to have to help me up.” Lillie looked up at Cody from the ground. “I’m afraid my legs are about to stop working.”

  Cody reached down and pulled her up. “We probably covered twenty miles today. You have a right to be exhausted. Maybe tomorrow you should ride Shadow for a while.”

  “Maybe,” Lillie murmured as she tumbled onto the mattress.

  Cody lay next to her, spooning against her back. Lillie’s breathing was slow and steady by the time Cody pulled the blanket up over them. She was already asleep.

  Cody kissed her lightly on the cheek and whispered, “Good night, Lillie.”

  Lillie didn’t stir.

  *

  Thunder woke Cody, or was it the wind? Whatever the cause, she awoke with a start. In the tight sleeping space her sudden movement woke Lillie. Or maybe she’d heard the thunder also.

  It was an electrical storm.

  The smell of sulfur was in the air, and lightning flashed vividly in the darkness.

  A flash of light followed quickly by rolling thunder caused Lillie to jump.

  “That was close.”

  “Yeah, seemed like it.” As a child, she’d loved storms. Cody never felt afraid, but this was different. They were in the open, with only a canvas covering to shield them from the elements. This sort of storm would spook the animals for sure.

  Raindrops started to hammer against the heavy canvas covering like hailstones, and the wagon swayed with each angry gust as the storm moved into camp. Cody was worried about Shadow. He’d been tied near the wagon. She lifted the back flap and squinted into the rainy dark. She didn’t see him anywhere close. A lightning flash lit the camp, and she caught a glimpse of his shiny dark coat making tracks away from them.

  “Shadow’s loose. I’ve gotta go get him.” Cody hurriedly pulled on her boots. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes so luckily she was already dressed.

  “Shouldn’t you wait for the storm to pass?” Lillie sat up on the edge of the mattress. There was genuine concern on her face.

  “I don’t want to lose him.” Cody dropped to the ground. The rain was coming down in sheets. In a short minute, she was soaked through. She leaned into the rain and wind and headed toward the last place she’d caught a glimpse of him.

  The short hairs on her arm were standing on end from the electrified air. Another bolt of lightning cut across the sky. This one was so close it caused balls of fire to jump off the horns of the oxen and roll along the prairie like some flaming specter from a fireside horror story. Frantic, the oxen barreled past the wagon at a dead run. They just missed her in the dark.

  The wind was so strong that it drove stinging rain against her face. Her movements were labored, as if she were trying to run in deep mud, but it was just the waterlogged grass and the wind and the lack of visibility that was hindering her progress.

  Just when she was about to give up and return to shelter, she saw Shadow. He reared up when thunder pounded the ground with sound waves. He shied and stepped back, but his harness line was taut as if it were caught on something.

  As she got closer she saw that it was a dense cluster of Osage orange almost as tall as she was. Nature had endowed Osage orange with long sharp thorns, earning it the respect of man and beast. Except, apparently, in a lightning storm.

  “Shadow!” she called out to him. He reared his head. His eyes were arched, his nostrils wide; he was panicked.

  “Shadow! I’m here, boy.” Cody fought to untangle the leather reins in the dark. He shifted and stepped sideways, forcing her into a precarious position between him and the thorns.

  *

  Lillie waited anxiously for Cody to return. It seemed like forever before she saw Cody’s disheveled head appear at the opening at the back of the wagon. She held open the closure so that Cody could climb in. Her shirt was drenched through and clinging to her torso. Streaks of red began to slowly materialize, and Lillie realized the red seeping across the side of the now snug-fitting shirt was blood. Cody wrapped her arms around her chest and began to shiver.

  “You’re bleeding.�
��

  “Oh.” Cody looked down at the sleeve of her shirt. “Shadow got tangled in a giant thorn bush. No doubt he’s bleeding too.”

  “You’re also shivering. We need to get you out of these wet clothes and into a blanket.” The storm had caused the temperature to drop. Even the air inside the wagon’s canopy suddenly felt much cooler.

  Cody nodded and started to peel off the soggy clothing, necessity obviously overriding Cody’s usual shyness in front of her.

  She wrapped Cody in a wool blanket, but not before she saw several raised cuts from the thorns on her arms and across her ribs.

  “Let’s give you a chance to warm up and then I can put something on those cuts.”

  “Okay.”

  Lillie rubbed Cody’s back through the blanket draped around her shoulders in the hopes that the friction would help circulation and speed the warming process. “I wish I had something warm for you to drink.” Lillie looked around the cramped interior for a moment. “Oh, wait. I do have something.” She rummaged through a small chest near the front of the wagon and handed Cody a glass flask. “Brandy. I picked this up before we left. For medicinal purposes, of course.”

  Cody smiled. “Of course.” She took a swig and then a second. She settled back a little onto the narrow mattress that lay across the length of the buckboard.

  The rain continued to pelt the sides of the canvas covering while the low glow of the lantern created a small oasis of warm light in the interior space. Lillie noticed just then the dark, wet cloth of Cody’s trousers. She knew that to truly get warm Cody needed dry pants as well.

  “Let’s get you out of the rest of these wet clothes.” Lillie was seated on a wooden box across from Cody as she bent down and began to tug at her mud-covered boots.

  “You’re not gonna toss those outside are you?”