Trail to Clear Creek (Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection One Book 3)

by Kit Morgan

  Harrison is Harrison, sweet, kind and prone to moments of wild imaginings. He’ll surely talk of nothing but savages for the first five hundred miles or until he meets one, whichever comes first.

  Myself? I do not know how I feel, my love. I married a stranger yesterday. I know so little of him. Dare I get to know him on this journey? Yes, I must, for how can I tell you about him if I don’t learn about him first? I hope you grow to like him as I’m sure I will. But …

  She chewed the end of the pen a moment. How should she put this?

  But will I love him? I do not know. Will he love me? That I also have no answer for. Time will tell for the both of us.

  Honoria let the ink dry, closed her diary and crawled back into bed.

  “Mother, look there!” Harrison called as several more wagons passed. Why the boy had to point out every single wagon, she had no idea.

  “Harrison darling, I don’t see how one is different than the next.”

  “But they are, Mother. The last was driven by someone like me.”

  She blanched, looked at the wagon, but couldn’t see the driver. “You mean they’re being driven by children?”

  He looked blank. “Not children.” He puffed out his chest. “Young men, like me.”

  She smiled. “I see.” She looked at the next wagon, driven by an older gentleman. “You mean like him?”

  Harrison looked and made a face. “No, not like him.”

  Honoria giggled. “We’ll speak about you driving another time. For now, we’d best let Jefferson handle things.” She looked to her left, where her new husband spoke with a Mr. and Mrs. Turner who were being positioned several wagons behind them. They had two young children, five-year-old Tommy and one-year-old Emeline. Honoria suspected Mrs. Turner might be carrying a third, what with the way her hands kept brushing against her belly. Would she give birth on the trail to Oregon City?

  “Mother, everything is ready,” Duncan said from below.

  She looked at him. “Thank you, dearest, for seeing to everything. I dare say, I feel rather useless at the moment.”

  He smiled at her. “We’ve a long road ahead, much of which isn’t a road at all. Enjoy your idleness. There will be little of it once we move out.”

  “He’s right, Mother,” Harrison said. “Enjoy doing nothing and watch the wagons get organized.”

  She surveyed the plodding oxen, loaded wagons, horses, cows, even the occasional crate of chickens. Spirits were high as the sun rose – they were supposed to head out shortly. Mr. Kinzey and his men were getting the wagon train into some semblance of order. The wagon master was delighted to have a doctor with them (a rarity, she was told) and had placed Dr. and Sarah Waller in the middle of the train, right in front of the Cookes and Sayers, so the doctor was as close to everyone as he could be.

  Honoria had met several more families that morning, and watched them take their positions. It was a boisterous affair, with men shouting orders, women laughing, children running alongside wagons and being scolded by their mothers, jangling harnesses, and the various rattles, creaks and grumbles of their vehicles. Goodness, she had no idea a wagon train would be so noisy. She was happy just to be in line.

  And then, it was time. “Load up!” a man shouted as he rode his horse down the line of wagons. “Load up!”

  Honoria grabbed Harrison’s hand. “Here we go, darling!”

  “We won’t go anywhere if Mr. Cooke doesn’t get here.”

  “Quite right.” She scanned the crowd for her new husband and spied him shaking Mr. Turner’s hand. He spun with a huge smile and looked at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. A tingle of excitement went up her spine as he headed for their wagon with purposeful strides. “Are you ready?”

  “Of course. Let’s tally ho!” she said.

  Harrison laughed. “Mother, it’s ‘wagons ho,’ not ‘tally ho.’ This isn’t England.”

  She laughed as Jefferson climbed up beside her, unwound the lines from around the brake and gripped them in both hands. “Harrison,” he said, “you mind doing the honors?”

  Harrison, delighted, scrambled into the wagon bed behind them, rested his hands on Honoria’s shoulders and yelled, “Wagons ho-o-o-o-o-o-o!”

  The shout was repeated from several wagons nearby in the middle of the train, including the Wallers’. Being close to Doc Waller and his wife made Honoria feel more secure. One never knew what might happen on the trail.

  Duncan suddenly appeared riding Juliet, the mare Benedict had bought her shortly before he died. “Mother, is Colin with you?”

  Her eyes widened. “He’s not with you?”

  “Is he with Jack and Sam?” Jefferson asked.

  “No, I just checked,” Duncan said. He furrowed his brow. “Dash it all, that boy!”

  “Darling, don’t get upset just yet,” she told him. “He must be around here somewhere.”

  “Who’s driving the other wagons?” Jefferson asked sternly.

  “Jack has one, Sam the other.” Duncan’s nostrils flared. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him!” He spun Juliet around and took off at a canter down the line.

  “Oh my goodness,” Honoria said, a hand to her chest. “Where could he be?”

  Jefferson glanced at her as he gave the oxen a slap of the lines. “He’s your son, Honoria. You tell me.” The wagon lurched forward as several more shouts of “wagons ho” sounded down the line.

  Honoria’s breathing picked up in panic. Colin wouldn’t purposefully stay behind, would he? He didn’t seem any more put out about the wedding than Duncan or Harrison. After all, her sons respected her decision to marry Jefferson, even if they weren’t warm to the idea yet – they hadn’t been outright rude like Samuel and Jack had. “He’ll be along, I’m sure.”

  “He’d better be,” Jefferson said. “We can’t wait for him.” He winked and nudged her shoulder with his. “Don’t worry. At least we’ll be easy to find.”

  “Yes.” But in the meantime, where on Earth was he?

  Pounding the nails into the wood without making much noise was the hardest part. Colin bit his lower lip and carefully laid the string over the widely-spaced nails to just above Mr. Greenly’s brand-new window. That done, he tied a small branch at the end of the string, making sure it was flush against the glass, and gave the string a tug to test it.

  The branch scraped the glass, making a squeaking noise. He looked at where he’d attached the other end of the string to the top of the storeroom door. Every time Greenly opened the door, he’d hear a scratching that was sure to drive him mad!

  Colin giggled at a job well done. “Jolly good, old chap.” He patted himself on the back. He climbed off his perch atop the crates and tiptoed to the door. After placing several more crates near it, he climbed up to check his handiwork and, once satisfied, hopped back down.

  No sooner had his feet touched the floor than the door opened. “Colin!” Mr. Greenly barked. “Haven’t you left yet? Grab your brother’s coat and go – the wagon train must be leaving by now!”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Greenly.” Colin glanced around. “But I don’t see it. Duncan must have it with him. I thought he’d left it here.”

  Mr. Greenly was looking around too. “Did you hear something?”

  Colin shrugged. “No, sir.”

  Mr. Greenly scratched his head. “Hm, I could have sworn I heard … well, never mind. Now get, or you’ll have to stay here and work for me the rest of your life.” Colin’s eyes rounded to saucers as Mr. Greenly reached for the door and opened it wide to allow them both to exit. Squeeek … “What in tarnation?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Colin replied, trying to keep a straight face.

  Mr. Greenly frowned. “Land sakes, I’m hearing things. Gwendolyn!” he shouted to his wife who was minding the storefront. “I think something’s wrong with my ears!”

  “I told ya, ya need to see the doc!” she screeched back.

  Colin, unable to help it, snorted.

  “You think that’s
funny, do you? Well, wait ‘til you’re old and it starts happening to you – you won’t think it’s so funny then!”

  Colin bit the inside of his cheek. “Sorry …”

  “What’s the matter with you? Now get out of here, before I’m stuck with you!”

  Colin bolted for the storefront, waving at Mrs. Greenly on his way out. He stopped just short of the door, ran back and grabbed a licorice whip from a candy jar, grinning at the woman. “Goodbye, Mrs. Greenly!” He leaned across the counter, kissed her cheek. then dashed out the mercantile doors.

  Outside he jumped onto Pip, his father’s horse, and raced down the street. What a glorious day this would be! He should have checked his pocket watch – the company was heading out at seven on the dot. He was late, but he’d catch up soon enough. When he did, Duncan would no doubt give him a good talking to. He hoped it didn’t include extra work as punishment. But seeing the look on Mr. Greenly’s face was worth it.

  With a wide grin, Colin slowed Pip to a walk and continued to the staging area.

  The day was long and fraught with worry. Where was Colin?! Honoria kept leaning to peer behind the wagon – it was easier than twisting around to look through it. Besides, Harrison was there, sitting on a stack of supplies.

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” he said as the sun began to sink. “He’ll make it.”

  “But what if something’s happened?”

  “Something’s going to happen all right,” Jefferson said. “He’s not my boy, Honoria, but he’s sure as shooting gonna get an earful from me. Don’t he have any idea what he’s put you through today?”

  She faced forward. “It’s my fault, really. I should have been more attentive to them before our wedding.”

  “What about after?” he asked. “It’s only been two days. I know they’re angry, but …”

  “I’m not angry,” Harrison argued.

  Honoria twisted on the wagon seat to look at him. “Glad to hear it, darling.” She touched Jefferson’s arm. “Aren’t you glad?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Makes life a little easier when we’re in one accord.”

  “Right you are,” Harrison said. “Colin, he … doesn’t talk as much as I do.”

  “A blessing on some days,” Honoria said with a smile.

  Harrison rolled his eyes. “What I’m trying to say, Mother, is that sometimes he needs to be alone. He’s probably behind us, keeping Pip from catching up.”

  “Oh, he’ll catch up fine once your big brother finds him,” Jefferson said. “Duncan don’t seem the type to put up with nonsense.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Harrison agreed. “Ever.” He gulped and looked helplessly at Honoria. “You won’t let him be too hard on Colin, will you, Mother?”

  “Well, I …” She glanced at Jefferson, who shrugged. They weren’t a family yet, not by a long shot. “I won’t, my darling. But Colin must realize what he’s done.”

  She turned around as the wagon in front of them stopped. Jefferson did the same and waited. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “We’re waiting to see if Mr. Kinzey wants to make camp.” He turned and looked at her. “Tired?”

  “Very. Who would have thought sitting all day could be so exhausting?”

  He patted her leg. “You’ll sleep good tonight. But the ground under the wagon ain’t soft.”

  She sighed. “No, I imagine not.”

  To her surprise, he put an arm around her. “I’ll keep you as comfortable as I can. We can always sleep inside it.”

  Honoria blushed down to her toes. They hadn’t consummated their marriage, and tonight would be the first time they slept in the same bed. She was no virgin and neither was he, of course. And they might be too tired for such things, which would be fine with her. She had every intention of performing her wifely duty, but she did want to get to know her husband better first. Then perhaps things would feel … right.

  Pete Smithers rode down the line. “We’re settin’ up!” he shouted as he went.

  Harrison watched several wagons move to the right. “What are they doing?”

  “Circling the wagons, to protect the animals,” Jefferson explained. “We’ve got quite a few between all of us.”

  Harrison’s eyes widened. “Do you mean there are savages about?”

  Jefferson glanced at him. “Probably not. But there are coyotes and the like. And this way we’re not so spread out – we can keep everyone in sight. Like your brother Colin, for example.”

  “Oh yes, him,” Harrison said. For the first time, he looked worried.

  “Why don’t you see if you can find him?” Honoria suggested.

  Harrison nodded, went to the back of the wagon, scrambled down and walked toward the end of the train. He moved slowly at first, probably as cramped and sore as she was, but once he got going he was off like a shot.

  “Oh Lord, let him find him in one piece,” she muttered.

  “Don’t worry,” Jefferson said. “If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that boys always show up for mealtimes.”

  “Yes, but if I’m cooking he might not show up until after bedtime.”

  Much to Honoria’s surprise, Jefferson laughed, kissed her on the cheek and climbed down from the wagon. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said as he headed toward the front of the train, probably to converse with Mr. Kinzey.

  Honoria watched him go, her hand to her cheek where he’d kissed her. Well! This might work out better than she’d hoped. Now if only her middle son would make an appearance.

  Chapter Eight

  Supper was a simple affair, but Honoria, knowing she wasn’t much of a cook, at least had the foresight to plan for it. She didn’t want their first meal on the trail to be a complete disaster. Besides, Colin liked bacon and eggs. If Jefferson was right and boys always showed up for meals, she’d be glad of her choice.

  Sure enough … “Smells wonderful, Mother,” Colin said as he approached, arms loaded with wood.

  “About time you arrived.” Duncan glared daggers at him, then went back to turning the bacon.

  “That will do, dearest,” Honoria said, spooning eggs onto plates. “It should be ready by now.” She’d wanted to make fried eggs, but kept breaking them, so scrambled would have to do. Colin’s disappearance had made her more nervous than she thought. “Where have you been?” she asked as calmly as possible. She didn’t want to appear hysterical in front of Jefferson when he returned from speaking with Cyrus.

  “I thought Duncan left his jacket at Mr. Greenly’s. Besides, I wanted to, er … give the man a parting gift.”

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “Colin, what did you do?”

  Colin suppressed a smile. “Just said goodbye after your jacket was nowhere to be found.”

  “That would be because I’m wearing it, of course.”

  “Oh, now you tell me!”

  Honoria saw Duncan’s jaw tighten. “That’s enough, you two. Colin, you and I will talk later.”

  He sighed. “Yes, Mother.”

  “As will we,” Duncan added.

  Colin looked him in the eye and nodded nervously.

  Harrison popped out from between two wagons. “I found more wood!” He saw Colin’s pile near the fire, then Colin. “Oh. You showed up.”

  “Of course I did.”

  Harrison saw Duncan’s stern expression, then Colin’s sullen one. “Right, then. When’s dinner?”

  “Now.” Honoria handed him a plate. “Duncan, give him some bacon, will you?”

  Duncan complied and gave him two slices. “Is that all?” Harrison asked.

  “I’m afraid so, darling,” she said. “We have to be careful – our food has to last us a long time. But I did fry some potatoes.”

  “Splendid!” Harrison held his plate out to her. She spooned him out a portion and waved him off.

  Duncan made a plate for Colin, took it to him and smiled. “Enjoy your meal, brother.”

  Colin grinned sheepishly. “Will it be my la
st?”

  “Could be.”

  Colin took the plate in silence.

  Honoria didn’t want to come between Duncan and Colin. She knew her eldest son would give his brother a good tongue-lashing. So would she, though she preferred doing her scolding in private. Would Jefferson want his say too? How did he discipline his boys? Jack and Sam were older, but not by much, and from what she’d observed they hadn’t been disciplined much.

  “That looks good,” Jefferson said behind her.

  Honoria jumped. “Oh!”

  He put a warm hand on her shoulder. “There you go again. I didn’t mean to scare you, Honoria.” He smiled at her, spied Colin and faced him. “So there you are. Decided to join the wagon train, I see.”

  Colin glanced at him between mouthfuls. “Yes, sir.”

  Jefferson cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll take a walk with me after supper, help find more wood.”

  “He brought an armful,” Honoria volunteered.

  Jefferson didn’t take his eyes off Colin. “And he’ll bring more.”

  Honoria dished her new husband up a plate and handed it to him. “Sit, eat. There will be time enough to speak with him later.”

  “Yes, about six months’ worth,” Duncan added.

  Colin shrank a little. If Honoria were him, she would too. Duncan wouldn’t let him live this down so easily. He was so much like his father, so much that it was scary at times. But whereas Benedict could be too cautious, Duncan would forge ahead, no questions asked, and sometimes got into trouble. Colin would forge ahead too, but was more calculating. How long would it take Jefferson to learn her sons’ quirks and characteristics?

  Speaking of which … “Jefferson, where are Jack and Samuel?”

  He glanced around their campsite. “Tarnation, those boys should be back by now. I sent them down to a stream to fetch some water an hour ago. Did they bring it?”