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

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Trail to Clear Creek (Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection One Book 3) Page 22

by Kit Morgan


  “It’s time to start on supper,” Jefferson said. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow as a family. Your ma and I will discuss it tonight.”

  Duncan stood. “Jack, care to join me gathering firewood?”

  “No guard duty tonight?” Honoria asked.

  “Not tonight, Mother. A few others volunteered to take our places. Mr. Kinzey knows how hard we’ve worked.”

  “That you have.” Jefferson slapped Duncan on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you.” He looked at the rest of the boys. “All of you. You proved yourselves on this trip, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  The boys stared at him with looks of shock, admiration and – most importantly, Honoria noted – respect.

  When they stopped for lunch the next day, Jefferson, Duncan and Cyrus left the wagon train in search of Gerhard Mueller’s cabin. They found it and returned with him to share in the meal. Geri was a rough-looking man dressed in buckskins, with missing front teeth and a thin scar running down the left side of his face. But when he spoke he was obviously a gentleman – albeit a Teutonic gentleman. “Ach, Cyrus, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you alive and vell. Did you bring me my books?”

  “Of course – you can take them back to your cabin when you leave. Polly and I won’t be far behind.”

  “Ja, gut, gut.” Geri turned to Jefferson and Honoria. “Zere’s a small stream near ze cabin that flows into zis larger creek. If you folks need vater, you can get it zere.”

  Honoria studied him. He looked like a scalawag, yet had impeccable manners. She’d had trouble putting the two together, until Cyrus explained that Geri had been born into the Bavarian nobility. He’d come to America to escape imprisonment for his political involvement; he’d lost the teeth and gained the scar courtesy of the now-abdicated King Ludwig’s soldiers. “I must ask, Mr. Mueller, how have you survived out here all alone?”

  “Oh, I’m not alvays alone - sometimes I run across a vagon train vhen I’m out hunting. I get my fill of conversation then. I admit, these days I prefer to be by myself most of ze time.”

  She exchanged a quick look with Jefferson. Wilfred and Irene had already announced they would stay. She could just imagine poor Mr. Mueller having to deal with Irene …

  “Do you have everything you need?” Cyrus asked. “We can start building right away.”

  “Ja, ja,” Mr. Mueller agreed. “Just as ve planned.”

  “You knew you were going to stay all along?” Honoria asked Cyrus.

  “I thought I’d made that clear yesterday,” Cyrus said. “This beautiful valley is why I’m here.”

  She exchanged another look with Jefferson, remembering their pillow talk the previous night, and their discussion with the boys over breakfast. Jefferson cleared his throat and stood. “Cyrus, Mr. Mueller … we’d like to stay too.”

  “Splendid!” Cyrus got to his feet, took Jefferson’s hand and gave it a healthy shake. “You won’t regret this.” He looked at Honoria. “None of you will. Now, are your boys all good with this?”

  Duncan spoke for the others. “We talked earlier. We’re family now, and as Jefferson is head of this family, we decided to abide by his decision.”

  “I was mighty glad to hear them say that.” Jefferson looked at Jack and Sam. “Boys.” He then looked at Duncan, Harrison and Colin. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Colin said with a smile. “I do hope others stay. I would hate to think it’s just us and the Dunnigans.” He shivered.

  “On the contrary, young man,” Cyrus said. “I’ve already heard from the Mulligans, Turners, Whites, Browns, Holmans and Figs. They’re all staying.”

  “They are?” Harrison blurted. “Jolly good!”

  Colin laughed. “Almost makes up for the Dunnigans.”

  “Colin,” Honoria and Jefferson both warned.

  “And you can count us in too,” Abijah Waller added as he walked up. “My wife talked me into it. Besides, our wagon could use a doctor. We’ve got an axle about to break. Another few miles and it will from the looks of it.” He nodded to himself, as if a broken wagon had been the deciding factor. “We can raise some vegetables and do any doctoring that’s needed.”

  “That’s wonderful …” Honoria trailed off as she glanced at Colin again. She knew that look on his face. “Colin? Have you anything to say?”

  “Me? Why, no – why would I?” He said innocently.

  “Don’t worry, Mother,” Duncan said. “We’ve made him promise not to bother Mrs. Dunnigan. Ever. Right, Colin?”

  Colin shrugged and held his hands up helplessly.

  Honoria pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed them. “Oh dear …”

  Jefferson sighed, in relief rather than frustration. “So this is it, then?”

  “Yes, Jefferson,” Cyrus said. “Yes, it is. We that stay are the makings of a new town.”

  “What are going to call it?” Harrison asked.

  Cyrus looked up in thought. “I have no idea. But I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

  Honoria lay in bed that night staring at the canvas overhead. Jefferson and Cyrus had already informed Mr. Kinzey their families and eight others would go no further. Would she ever see Oregon City? Was the wilderness around her all she would ever know? The thought was daunting.

  Even more daunting was that Jefferson still hadn’t told her he loved her. That it might never happen was bad enough when she thought they would settle near civilization, or a form of it, anyway. But now that they were settling here, she didn’t know if she could bear it.

  “What’s the matter?” Jefferson asked as he lay down beside her.

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “You scared?” he asked gently.

  She looked at him. “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to worry. Me and the boys can handle wild animals and Indians.”

  Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she didn’t care. “Oh, Jefferson, it’s not Indians or wild beasts or even the threat of starving to death in winter.”

  Jefferson’s eyes rounded. “What else is there?”

  She sighed. “For Heaven’s sake, if you don’t know by now…”

  “No need to get testy with me. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to say anything,” she said, her jaw tight.

  Jefferson propped himself on his elbow to look at her. “See here, woman, we didn’t come two thousand miles to fight.”

  “No, we did that midway through.”

  “Honoria …”

  “Jefferson!” she snapped. She knew she was out of line but didn’t care.

  “What in tarnation has gotten into you?”

  She sat up. “You really want to know?”

  “Yes!” he sat up as well.

  “All right, fine! I’ll tell you!” She scrunched her face up like Mrs. Dunnigan. “Jefferson Cooke, I love you – that’s what’s the matter! There, I said it!” She folded her arms in a huff.

  Jefferson stared at her, his mouth flopped open like a hooked trout. “You … what?”

  “Oh blast,” she said in exasperation. “What part of ‘I love you’ don’t you understand?”

  He looked her up and down, then pulled her close and kissed her.

  She struggled against him and pushed away. “Stop it! I say I love you and all you can do is kiss me?”

  He looked at her in shock. “For crying out loud, woman! What part of ‘I love you’ don’t you understand?”

  She blinked a few times. “What?”

  He smacked his forehead and let his hand slide down his face. “I protect you, I feed you, I keep you warm, I …”

  “Well, of course you do – you’re my husband,” she interjected.

  “And what part of that doesn’t say ‘I love you’?”

  She stared at him for what seemed like forever. Then gently, she raised one finger and tapped it against his lips. “This part.”

  He blinked twice, three times. “I’ve been busy trying t
o … to show you …”

  Her voice was a whispered squeak. “But can’t you tell me too?”

  “Yes. Yes, I can. Honoria Sayer Cooke, I love you like crazy.” He gathered her in his arms and kissed her gently, slowly. And now she read it for what it was. Jefferson did love her, had all the time. He hadn’t said the words during their long journey west, but he’d certainly shown her time and again. Now that he knew he needed to say them too, he did.

  As soon as he broke the kiss, she burst into tears. “Oh tarnation, now what did I do?” he asked helplessly.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s what I’ve done! I spent all this time stewing, never told you until now and I feel like such a fool.” She looked away and sniffed back her tears.

  He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. “Why’d you wait, sweetheart?”

  She sniffled some more. “I just wanted you to say it first …”

  Surprisingly, he chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. Man’s supposed to take charge.” He shook his head. “That’s my fault – I should’ve seen it needed saying. I knew something was eating at you, but I didn’t know what, and fool that I was, I didn’t ask enough.”

  “I thought that you didn’t love me, that you never would … oh, Jefferson, Jefferson, my sweet love …”

  He smiled and drew her into his arms again. “Silly woman, you mean all this time you thought I didn’t have feelings for you? How in the world could you think that?”

  “Because … because this is different than before,” she confessed.

  “Of course it is. I ain’t Benedict. You ain’t Mary, and I thank the Lord for it. We’re something new, Honoria. It’s just like Cyrus said – we got a chance to build something with our own hands, as a family. And we have a chance to build so much more – a home, a farm, maybe even that cattle ranch once we have the cash. And pretty soon those boys are gonna marry and give us grandkids …”

  “Grandchildren? I’ve not allowed myself to think about that.”

  “Why not, darlin’?”

  She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I like the sound of that word.”

  “Darlin’?”

  She nodded. “I say it often enough myself.”

  He smiled back. “Well, darlin’, I love you. More than anything.”

  “Jefferson, I love you too. I’m sorry it took almost two thousand miles to say it.”

  “Well, maybe it took us that long to learn it,” he said.

  “I think we’ve all learned something,” she said. “I know the boys have. Maybe now we can become a family.”

  He cupped her face between his hands. “Honoria darlin’, we already are.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Though Jefferson said they already were, becoming a family proved to be no easy task. The boys now openly fought, especially when Jack and Sam reverted to their old work-shirking ways. Duncan had had enough, and Honoria was concerned he might seriously injure one of them.

  At least Jack was still treating her with respect, but Sam was backsliding even on that score. Bad enough that he no longer fetched water for her, but he’d started complaining if she even asked. Perhaps staying to set down roots had driven home that they were stuck with her. There was no escape unless they physically left.

  “Mother,” Harrison said as he rushed into Geri’s cabin. “Have you seen Jack?”

  “No, why?”

  “I think he took my hunting knife – the one I bought at Fort Boise.”

  Honoria pinched the bridge of her nose. “My heavens, what next?”

  “I haven’t seen Jack or Sam all morning. No one has.”

  She lowered her arm. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Mother. Even Jefferson hasn’t seen them.”

  She scanned the cabin. Geri had been letting the women use his stove, and currently they were preparing pies for Thanksgiving tomorrow. Everyone had been looking forward to it – it had been a long, hard journey, just like the Pilgrims had experienced two centuries before, and though they weren’t traveling on to Oregon City (just as the Pilgrims had missed Virginia), they were still tired and in need of a celebration.

  But they still had to build a shelter before winter. Cyrus’s plan was to throw up one large communal structure to see them through until spring, then work on individual cabins. Jefferson was already cooking up ideas for the house they’d build on his land grant, but like the others, he was pitching in on the big barn that would shelter them for the winter. And Sam and Jack were supposed to be as well. “They’re not helping Jefferson and the others with the roofing?”

  “No, I was just there. He’s looking for them too.”

  She wiped her hands on her apron and headed for the door. “Come with me.”

  Harrison followed her over to what Wilfred Dunnigan had nicknamed “the big barn.” It would be a little cramped, but everyone agreed they could make do. They were trying to get the roof completed in time for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving feast, so they could at least have it indoors. They’d already suffered three rain storms and a snow flurry in the past week, and time was of the essence.

  Jefferson spotted them as he was mounting his horse. “Honoria, hello – I was just leaving to look for Jack and Sam. They’re missing.”

  “So I’ve heard. Any idea where they might have gone?”

  He looked at the rolling prairie and the tree line beyond. “Nope.”

  She went over and put her hand on his leg. “You don’t think they left us, do you?”

  “Nah, not on foot with the trail already getting muddy. But I ain’t happy about them running off and leaving the rest of us to work.”

  Honoria surveyed the prairie surrounding them. Trees dotted the landscape, but the main tree line was several miles away. “Could they have gone toward the mountains to hunt?”

  “They could. But they should’ve said something instead of running off without a word.” Jefferson nudged his horse away from the building, his eyes still on Honoria. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He looked up. “Duncan?”

  Duncan looked at him from atop the roof. “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re in charge.” He gave his horse a kick and was off.

  Honoria sighed and turned back to the cabin. There was nothing else to be done about it. She’d best see to her pies. Grandma and some other women were handling the washing, while others were preparing more food for tomorrow. Why they put her in charge of this batch of pies, she’d never know – she’d be safer with the washing. Thank Heaven Grandma had given her good instructions.

  Geri’s stove was small but functional. She checked the pie that was baking and decided to give it a few more minutes, per Grandma’s advice as to what the crust should look like. She was about to roll out more dough when she heard the floorboards creak. She turned at the sound – and froze. “What are you doing here?”

  “Howdy, Mrs. Cooke.” Pete Smithers stepped out from around a corner.

  Honoria looked him up and down. “And how long have you been back there?”

  “Long ‘nough,” he said wolfishly.

  She felt her skin crawl. “I … thought you’d be in Oregon City?”

  “I got my pay early and thought I’d return. Remembered this purty place … and some other purty things.”

  Her face screwed up in alarm. “What do you …?”

  In a flash he grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh yeah. Yer gonna join me. In every way, if yaknowhatImean.”

  She struggled, but the wiry man had her in a death grip. He began to drag her toward the back door of the cabin. If he had a horse behind the structure and managed to get her on it … she twisted in his grasp, got her mouth free and screamed.

  To her surprise, Jack and Sam burst into the cabin. “Let her go, Smithers!” Jack said, a hunting knife in his hand. Harrison’s knife, if she wasn’t mistaken.

  Sam had a shovel and was holding it up like a halberd. “Ya heard him – let her go.”

  “Ya two!” Pete spat. “
What’re ya doin’ here?”

  “It was bad enough when ya were stealin’ from folks, but ya ain’t touchin’ her.” Jack took a threatening step forward.

  Pete drew his gun. “Stay back or I shoot!”

  “Let her go,” Sam growled. “Now.”

  “Since when do ya want anythin’ to do with her? Last I heard ya couldn’t wait to …”

  “Never mind that,” Sam said. “Let her go.”

  Honoria wasn’t sure what they were talking about. All she knew was that she didn’t want Smithers to shoot Jack or Sam and didn’t want him turning his gun on her either. She stiffened as he shifted, raised his gun to aim at Sam and …

  CLANGGGGG! Pete Smithers dropped like a stone, releasing her in the process. “Oh!” she cried.

  Harrison went to her, wielding a cast-iron pan in two shaking hands. “Are you all right, Mother?”

  “Yes,” she said, a hand to her chest. She looked at Jack and Sam. “Where have you two been?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  Harrison put a protective arm around her. “Yes – where have you been?”

  “We noticed smoke near the tree line this mornin’,” Jack said. “Thought it might be Injuns. So we went to check it out.”

  “Turns out it was Smithers,” Sam aded. “Who knows how long he’s been snoopin’ ‘round?”

  Honoria and Harrison glanced at the unconscious ruffian. “Why is he here?” she asked.

  “Because of you,” Duncan said as he entered. He took one look at the scene and shook his head. “Jack, can you find some rope?”

  “With pleasure,” he said, rushing from the cabin.

  “Sam, did you speak with this man earlier?” Duncan asked.

  “No, we just watched him put out his fire and take off. We decided to come back and let Pa know, but when we got here we didn’t see him on the roof with the others, so we figgered maybe he was here.”

  Duncan looked quizzically at the shovel Sam was holding. “You went out there unarmed?”

  “C’mon, Dunc, we ain’t stupid! We had a rifle, but it’s still in the wagon. This shovel was leanin’ by the door, and I grabbed it when Honoria screamed. Jack at least had his knife with him –”

 

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