by Rita Hestand
"They aren't taking captives, are they?" Cully frowned and stood up.
"So far, about three. We recovered them of course, but the damage had been done."
Cully let a breath out. "I didn't need to hear that."
"I'm sorry I don't have better news for you right now. However, why don't you stay over a few days, we're having a dance this Friday night and maybe that will put your womenfolk in a better mood and ease the tensions. The last thing you need is a bunch of women in a panic."
"A dance?" Cully frowned again. How could he talk about a frivolous dance when women were being kidnapped by the Indians?
"If you're dealing with women, it's a good way to get them in a better mood, yes. An officer learns quickly that one way to calm people is to take their minds off the trouble, especially women."
Cully shook his head and scoffed. "How about you get fifty of your men to propose marriage to these women and take them off my hands?"
Colonel Smith laughed. "I wish I could… although dances are famous for getting people together. And they are welcome if they decide to stay."
"Yeah. I guess it is a good idea. How many trains are ahead of me?"
"I've seen five today. Only two stopped, for supplies, the others were anxious to get to Independence Rock."
"Any signs of Cholera or pox?"
"No, not yet, but we've had large trains so it's possible, the more the people, the more the threat, you understand. Of course, I have instructed the wagon masters to adhere to safety measures. Whether they will or not, who can tell. Some scoff at my advice, but I give it, nonetheless. We all know, disease is one of the hardest things to handle on a train. With the amount of people moving to Oregon, I am suspecting Cholera to be a problem, but you might get lucky and beat that."
Cully faced the Colonel and tried to smile, "Alright Colonel we'll stay until Saturday morning. I want to gear up for supplies before we leave and while I'm here, do you have or know of any Indian scouts? Or men looking for work? I could use a few men."
The Colonel rubbed his cheek in thought. "There's one, his name is Hobby, he might could help you out. He's scouted for several of the forts up and down the way. I could send him to talk to you, if you like."
"I'd appreciate that. Can you spare him?"
"He works on his own, he isn't registered army, he volunteers from time to time, but he knows the Indians and speaks several dialects."
"Any men you know willing to make a trip?"
"Well, since you are here, you could spread the word at the dance and see."
"Thanks, I'll do that." Cully nodded. "You have a lot of goings on here."
"Yes, we keep very busy. Pony express and the stages stop off worrying about the Indians. And then of course I have about ten or so trains a day heading out. Oh Cully, you can invite the ladies for supper, of course, who knows maybe some of my men might find them charming company."
Cully smiled. "Thanks. And I mean that more than I can tell you. I'd much rather see them married to soldiers than miners."
Cully called all his people for a meeting later that afternoon.
He stared out at them. His glance slid over the women methodically, stopping only on one because she was out and out flirting with his attentions. He sent her a quick scowl, he didn't even know her name. "I'm told there is a dance on Friday, we'll stay over until Saturday. Meanwhile you are all invited to supper with the Colonel and his men."
The women all smiled and talked among themselves.
Already some of the women were noticing the soldiers and Cully hoped that they might want to stay here, however, he knew the majority would go on.
He spotted some women later rummaging through their trunks of clothes for something to wear. There was a lot of talking and giggling and he began to see the wisdom of a dance, already their minds were off the smoke signals and on the dance. It would be a distraction.
Fort Kearney was a bustling kind of fort, it was a junction for all who went west.
But Cully noticed that Abigail was not fussing with her clothes or even looking excited. She stood in a plain cotton dress, her hair half up half down, looking very pretty, but also very forlorn. Instead she leaned against the gate and stared out at the Platte River and the many fowl that visited the River every year. He also noted that Slug was by her side now. That was funny, Slug usually didn't like most of the wagon train people. But obviously he'd taken a shine to Miss Abby. That spoke volumes to Cully, because Slug was a good judge of character.
"I thought you'd be seeing to a proper dress for the dance." Cully said lowly as he passed by and stopped to pet Slug. He wasn't intending on making conversation but what she said and the way she said it had him stopping.
"I didn't bring a lot of frilly dresses, I don't have that kind of illusion about this trip. Despite what you think." She said almost in a murmur. "In fact, contrary to your beliefs, I have no illusions."
He turned to look at her. "Illusions?"
"Mr. Cully, I am sure you think us silly, frivolous women but you would be very wrong. We're headed for gold camps, not a Sunday social. I understand what we'll find, but you don't understand us."
He eyed her perceptively, "You mean you aren't happy about heading to meet your future husband?"
Abigail didn't smile. "Since our little talk, I've been wondering if I have stirred these women in the right direction. But for the life of me, anything would be better from where we came. Anything. You see, I've been the instigator of this trip, and my purpose was to create a better life for all of them."
"Having doubts now?" Cully came a bit closer.
"I suppose I did have some fantasies that this would be a good trip for all of us." She said contritely. "Perhaps I've been a bit optimistic."
"Look," he sighed a bit and came closer so not everyone could overhear them. "I came down a little hard about what you might find. It's possible that you all will find suitable husbands there. I'm just a tad cynical, I guess it's my nature. I suppose. I didn't mean to put a damper on your spirit. What my father did, you can't put that on all those men. There will be decent ones too. But you'll have to weed them out. Some of those men have been away from what I call society for a long while and not exactly gentlemen."
"I know what you thought. You think we are all gold diggers. Trying to get rich quick. Well, you are wrong. This bunch of women is no ordinary bunch. And when things get hard, you'll see the difference. Every woman here knows what hard work is, every one of them. And they don't mind getting their hands dirty if need be. They are working on a dream. A dream of a good life, better than from where they came. They also realize they will have to make it better, but it's a chance."
"What do you mean?" he frowned. "What exactly are you talking about?"
"I mean Gladys over there, with the three kids, her husband beat her regularly, so much so she could no longer lie about all the bruises. There were days she could barely walk, she'd been beaten so drastically. So, she left him in a drunken stupor, with their three kids in tow. And Alma, her husband died, and she nearly starved to death because she can't speak English, and no one would hire her to work. Her husband had been one of the few decent men, but he left nothing for her when he died. She was uprooted from her home, instantly. Rebecca, nursed her folks through the pox, only to have three gunmen kill them for food and water. Those same men raped her before leaving her for dead. Gwen her father locked her in her room when company came so she couldn't meet any young men she wasn't supposed to. She'd been the cook and housekeeper since her mama died. Mary Maples shot and killed her Uncle, because he beat her so bad with a whip. This isn't just a load of women you have here, Cully. It's time you knew. You see, I got them together, we all lived within fifty miles of each other, all abused in some way, either worked to death, or beat. Anything, and I do mean anything would be better than the lives we came from. We know what we are headed for, but we all have a dream, of making things better. And it was no easy task them escaping to come on this train. Now do you
understand?" She frowned mightily at him.
"I'm beginning to. What about you?" He asked his concern genuine.
She turned away. "I'm no different. When my mother died of small pox, it was just my father and me. He grieved for her for a couple of years, we rarely even talked during that time. I never realized that was the best time we shared. I was heartbroken, and a little scared. And then I made a terrible mistake."
"Oh…what kind of mistake?"
"I started growing up. Friends called it to his attention, and he noticed, and he immediately arranged a marriage to a man I could not stand. He forced me with a shotgun to marry the man. William was mean to everyone and I was no exception. My father knew this, he didn't care because William paid him for me. Then, after the wedding, he beat me regularly, where no one could see. Many times. Finally, one night, I decided I'd had enough, and I got his gun and killed him with it." She cried. "You see the men in our community wanted basically two things from the women, hard work, and…. We came from a small town in Pennsylvania. Too small. Where every man thought alike. Women learned to accept their places, in life. And if you didn't accept it, you paid the price for it."
"Abby," Cully came toward her now. "I had no idea. I'm sorry. I guess I did misjudge you. But, why so many, why? Was there something wrong with your community? It's not normal for that many women to be abused."
"Your right of course, but it took us a while to figure that out. The men stuck together in groups, when one man beat his wife, others decided they could. Women were to hold their tongue and do what they were told. The community became tight, not allowing strangers in, and encouraging people to move along if they did not agree to this strange new society they built.
"Then, gradually the women heard of me and came to talk to me." She whirled around with tears in her eyes, "I was terrified they would come and take me to jail. So, I burned the place, after I killed him. So even if they did, they could never prove what I'd done. I lived in a burnout cabin for two years, scared to death they'd come to arrest me. They never did. No one even bothered. Doesn't that tell you what kind of people we came from. No one cared. But it didn't keep me from being scared to death. Because of my circumstances a lot of the women came to me, and eventually began telling me of their plights too. I wasn't alone, no, not nearly alone. I heard their horror stories of families with no sense of honor. I realized that misery was wide spread and unless we acted and did something, our lives would never be worth anything. So, I read the add in the paper and we all talked about it and decided it could never be any worse than it was there. And here we are. On a road to who knows what, but even knowing that, it's still better from where we came. We all agree. So, yes, the women are excited about the dance, about enjoying themselves. It's been so long…" her voice faded out.
They were both silent for a long moment.
"I don't understand, how could a whole community be like that."
She sighed heavily and leaned against the wall of the gate. "Religion for one. There was this preacher who came to our town, preaching how the men had a responsibility to not let their womenfolk have a say. He preached all the wrong things, but our fathers liked what he preached and began to practice the beatings and forced marriages. It was like some closed society of people, if you didn't take to the religion, you were to leave. Somehow you got burnt out. So decent folks didn't live there. It grew, way out of hand. We knew we had to get away as we grew older. The boys were slaves for their fathers, but the fathers taught them the same thing. The woman was to yield. No matter what."
When Cully soaked this in, his anger grew.
"You know why they didn't come for me?" She turned on him quickly.
"Why?"
"Because they knew they'd open a can of worms for all the other women, if I told my story in court. Most of the men around there treated their female children like dirt. It became a thing with the men. Like club, where anything was excusable. They stuck together too. One would defend another. No one told on the other. Yet, no strangers were allowed. Not a soul, that's how quiet they kept it. What they would do to their women. Like society where only men counted. So yes, Cully, we know what we are headed for and it looks much brighter than where we've been. It's a chance to start over, to find a new life."
"I'm sorry…" Cully whispered, staring into her tear stained face. "It still doesn't tell me why you aren't celebrating with them, now."
"I can't celebrate after all I've done, Cully. Murder is still murder, and it will follow me, all the rest of my life. Because I did something terrible back there, and I never paid for it. I killed a man. Oh, he deserved it, but still, he was my husband. No one cared. That was what was wrong with the place, no one cared about anyone. Life had no value there, especially for women. My own mother told me to leave the first chance I got. But when you talk about the gold fields, how bad things are there. That bad doesn't sound as bad as where we came. My father, pointed a gun in my back so I'd say, 'I do'. And I knew he would have killed me on the spot, had I not married. You know why? He didn't want to feed and clothe me any longer, it was that simple. And he wanted the money. Like a mule being sold in the bargain. And the man I buried was no better. He had a black boy working for him, he beat him to death because he broke his plow. He took out a whip and beat him to death. And he wasn't shy of using it on me either. The more beatings there were, the worse it got."
"What happened to the preacher?"
She looked down at the ground. "When one of the women died of the beatings, he tried to stop them, but it was too late. They'd made up their minds that they were in the right. So, they killed him, buried him and didn't leave a marker on his grave. The way they saw it, the preacher brought this thinking to them, and then turned on them. Judging them for what they had done. So, they killed him. Not one of them, all of them. That's when we knew we had to leave. It was so out of hand we didn't know who would be next. For if anyone told on them, there would be more killing."
"My God! You didn't do wrong. A man like that!" He answered with a twinkle in his eye, then walked off. "You cared about these women. Don't berate yourself so much for your dream. You cared! And maybe it will all work out for you. I for one hope it does."
"Like I said, anything is better than that."
Chapter Eight
Cully rode off that afternoon after talking to Abigail, he needed some alone time to think and to process what she had told him. So, he went to the river. The Platte was a flat river, with hardly any real banks, the land just sort of changed from prairie to a slow-moving river. It was a peaceful river that attracted many birds in the area and Cully knew the Indians favored the river too.
But now, he had to think about what Abby had just told him. He'd really misjudged them. And everyone of these ladies deserved to be respected, protected, and maybe they would find a life in California. It was Abby's dream that they all would. And Cully made up his mind to help them accomplish that goal.
She was right, they weren't ordinary women. They were fighters, and now he could see it. He realized he had a precious cargo of battered women who sought a better life. Not just frivolous women who wanted gold. He'd been so wrong about them. It wasn't part of his character to misjudge people, but he knew he'd been like so many others, he'd jumped to conclusions. He was wrong!
But what she told made his stomach roil. Oh, he'd had dance hall girls many times over, but he'd never lay his hand against a woman, unless it was to caress her. Women were not in abundance in the west and needed to be treated like a precious commodity. He couldn't stomach a man that would hit a woman and coming from their own families made it much worse. Abby was right, they had been through a lot. Too much. And somehow, Abby's dream became his dream, from that moment on. The Lady Train was going to get through and go to California. He'd see to that, and he wished them every bit of luck finding a decent man.
Just the fact that they had all been so abused and still held their heads up said so much about them. It sure gave him a sense of respect fo
r them. He'd been treating them as though they were all gold-diggers. He'd change that. These women were escaping to a better life. Even in the gold fields.
Cully glanced around and noticed a sandhill crane perched majestically against the backdrop of water. He stared at the crane and listened to it's strange cackle. It was an odd sound, almost like an empty can sounds when tossed down a road. Then it flew away, spreading its huge wing span against the sky. Cully watched his flight as group of them joined him.
He looked up in the big blue sky, shook his head. He let out a small sigh, took off his hat, and stared. "I don't talk to you much, Lord. But, I guess I better. You see, I want to get these women through okay. I'd appreciate it if you could help me when we get there. Because I certainly want better for them than what they've had. It seems I've got a bigger job this time than I've had for a long time. These women have suffered enough, and I don't want them suffering any longer, Lord. What they have been through, no one should endure, so I'm asking your help this time. Help me, help them."
A gauzemere cloud passed by and Cully nodded, "Thanks for listening."
He rode back with a new determination to see this trip through safely.
The supper was the best meal any of them had since they began their journey and the women were all smiling. They had plenty of beef, potatoes and a few vegetables grown on the fort yards. There were gravies, and biscuits and plenty of good conversation. Wine was offered too. Cully saw them all in a new light and he felt a new respect growing for them.
Some of the men escorted the women about the barracks later and walked them back to their wagons. Cully could tell there were a few of them taken with the young soldiers. He wished they'd all reconsider their trip. The gold fields were no place for them. They could be falling right back into a trap like they came from. Maybe he'd stick around long enough to see they were doing alright.