by Sadie Conall
Ella nodded. “I know. It’s just taking me a while to settle, that’s all. And thanks for the offer of the canvas Marrok, but you’ll need it for yourself and besides, now I have Ruby’s money I can buy more for my whole team,” she paused and turned to look at him, aware of his beautiful dark eyes watching her.
“It’s just everything’s changed so quickly. Three weeks ago I was at home trying to get out of a marriage with Jebediah Crawley. Now here I am sleeping in the wild, responsible for a wagon and a team of people,” she turned back to look at the dreamcatcher, her fingers gently touching the thin leather cobweb.
“Ella,” he said, leaning towards her. “I’ve got three wagons of my own waiting for me in Independence. You can claim one of them for your own to sleep in, if that will make it easier. Or you and Clara can share one. Have a look when we get there and decide for yourself.”
Ella looked at him with gratitude. “Thank you. I think that might suit me just fine, Marrok.”
“Well then, that’s settled. Now try and sleep. You can’t do much on the morrow if you’re tired.”
And she did sleep better than night. She’d placed the dreamcatcher beside her on the pillow, but when she woke in the chill of the following morning, she was holding it close to her heart.
Independence, Missouri
May 1846
1
The town of Independence lay on America’s western border, the state line, just six miles north of the Missouri River and twelve miles from Indian territory. And because it was a landing stage for settlers heading west, it was a thriving crowded place with hundreds of men, women and children sharing space with horses, mules, cattle, oxen and dogs.
Ella and her team became aware of the town long before they saw it, as the sounds and smells drifted out across the prairie along with the distant bells and whistles of steamboats coming into berth at the wharves six miles below the town.
Marrok reined in his horse as he came up over a slight rise and as the town and settlers’ camp spread out before him, he looked down on it in astonishment. The number of people camped down there waiting to head west seemed to have doubled since he left here a month ago to find Martha.
He glanced over towards a distant stand of dogwood, a good mile from the town, where he’d left his team and animals grazing. He couldn’t even see them now, for too many other wagons and camp sites surrounded them. He turned as Jasper called out to Abe and Wilber, who were coming up behind him with the oxen.
“Maybe time to get Miss Ruby back in the wagon,” the older man called out where he sat on the buckboard.
Marrok glanced back the girl. She had been walking with Martha and Clara for some time but as the women made it to the rise and looked down on that massive camp, Marrok saw Ruby’s hands go to her throat.
Marrok nodded. He didn’t want to stop the oxen again until they set up camp, so might as well let Ruby climb up inside the wagon now. And better to hide her and be safe, until Ella could buy her a bonnet to cover that vibrant colored hair, than have another altercation with two thugs, just in case they’d come upriver in the past two weeks.
Ruby gladly climbed back into the wagon, pulling the calico curtains behind her as the oxen and wagon rolled on down the hill. Marrok rode alongside Abe and Wilber, showing them where to go.
“We’ll get as close to Willard’s camp as we can,” he shouted, glancing back at Martha. “He’ll be desperate to see her.”
On the outskirts of Independence, between the town and the camp of settlers, were rows of tents where mercantile stores, blacksmiths, carpenters, bakers and women making clothes did business. And clearly the town needed these seasonal stores, with the influx of settlers arriving daily.
Ella glanced away to the west. Twelve miles in that direction lay Indian territory. Untold acres of wide open country, inhabited by tribes who had called that land their own for centuries.
Although for the past sixteen years, other tribes had made that territory their own as well, after being forcibly removed from their ancestral lands east of the Mississippi River after President Jackson signed the Indian Removals Act of 1830. By removing Indians west beyond the Mississippi River, the way was free for settlers to purchase their lands for a pittance from the Government and farm it.
Ella couldn’t begin to imagine the distance she must travel to reach California, but looking at that land which swept away to the west, she felt afraid. Because within weeks she would be crossing over into Indian country and like everyone else, she’d heard stories of the battles fought in the east for Indian land.
What lay ahead for her out there? Would her wagon come under attack? Would she have to take up her father’s shotgun and fight Indians? She shuddered and kicked her horse on, riding up towards Marrok, keeping close to him. She felt safer when she was with him.
*
It was impossible to get anywhere near Willard’s camp. So Marrok made the decision to ride on towards his own camp and have Ella’s team set up near his own.
“We’ll get these animals watered and put them out to graze, then I’ll ride out and let Willard know you’re here.”
They managed to get Ella’s wagon within a quarter mile of Marrok’s team. Then Marrok left them to get settled while he rode out to find Willard. Jasper tended to Bear and Billy while Abe and Wilber unharnessed the oxen, then hobbled them so they could graze on the bit of land around their camp. Ella and Clara started sorting through supplies and making lists of what they needed while Martha washed and changed into a clean dress and re-did her hair. It had been a long time since she’d seen her son. Not even in her wildest dreams had she ever thought to see him again. The very least she could do while she waited for him, was to try and look her very best.
After digging a firepit with Clara and leaving her to make coffee and hot biscuits, Ella left for town to put in an order for the supplies they needed and buy scarves and bonnets for both Ruby and Clara.
But as Ella weaved her way around wagons and animals and people sitting around their fires, she felt truly afraid for the first time since she’d left her father’s ranch. And of course she knew why.
Things would change now they had arrived in Independence. Marrok would have his own team to look after, as well as his job as scout. And Martha would join her son’s family. Ella would be alone, responsible for five people, a wagon, six oxen and two horses.
She stumbled a little with panic and to calm herself, feeling as if she were once again standing on the edge of an abyss, she made herself think on what she had to buy. And as she remembered to purchase more canvas sheeting, she thought with some regret of Marrok’s offer to let her sleep in one of his wagons. For Martha had asked her not to do that.
“Don’t get folk gossiping about you Ella. You go sleep in a single man’s wagons, believe me, you’re asking for trouble.”
She was thinking on that when she finally reached the town and entered Courthouse Square. A large group of men were voting on captains and officers for their individual wagon train companies but Ella wasn’t interested in men’s business and walked on, making her way through the crowds to join the queues outside one of the biggest mercantile stores. A woman stood in line before her with two teenage girls and asked Ella about her own family. She was astonished to hear Ella was driving her own team west.
“Lord almighty. I got these two girls who ain’t much younger than you and I can’t imagine them doing that. And I got three boys and a husband I been married to for the better part of twenty years and I’m still having nightmares about heading out, so I can’t imagine you doing it alone.” She persuaded Ella to put in an order for vegetables.
“They got potatoes and onions that just arrived off a boat from up north. And I heard they’re bringing in a boatload of carrots and beets in the next week. So get your order in. It’ll keep you going for a while. I heard some folk say we can trade squash and pumpkins with the Indians, but I don’t know how true that is.”
“Would you recommend a dutch
oven?” Ella asked, as the queue moved closer to the shop doors. “I’ve been advised to buy one.”
The woman nodded. “Can’t be without mine, like most women here. They heat up real quick and you can cook just about anything in them.”
And then at last Ella was in the store. She ended up buying four straw bonnets, for she also purchased one for herself and Martha. All of them were made with a deep, wide brim which offered shade against the hot sun and prairie winds. She also bought three headscarves and put in an order for more cured bacon, coffee beans, rice, white beans, the dutch oven and a sack of potatoes.
“I got steamboats bringing in supplies over the next week, but if the boats are late or you head out before it arrives, come see me and I’ll refund your money. I got no problem with that.” The storekeeper said, a thin, busy sort of man in his fifties who spoke with a thick European accent. He worked alongside half a dozen family members, all of them busy dealing with customers queries, for Ella could hardly move the store was so packed.
She left with her bonnets and scarves and stepped outside to put on her new hat. The wide brim immediately threw shade on her face and stopped the glare in her eyes, a relief in the warmth of that spring day. Then she hurried back to her wagon, passing several canvas stores, and when she found one belonging to a French family who were selling fresh loaves of bread, Ella purchased three of them. She would keep one for her team, gift one to Marrok and give the other to Martha to give to Willard and his family.
*
By the time she returned to the wagon, Martha was sitting on a box near Clara, Jasper and the two brothers eating hot biscuits and drinking freshly brewed coffee. Ella joined them as Clara poured her a coffee. She showed the women the bonnets and both were well pleased with them.
“Why, they’re just fine,” Martha said, choosing one with a blue ribbon. “They’ll be good on the trail to keep the sun off our faces but they sure ain’t like the ones we wore back in Chesterfield. Those hats were pretty dainty things compared to these.”
Clara loved her bonnet and scarf, and took the scarf and wrapped it around her head, tying it at the back of her neck. “I ain’t never had anything so pretty Ella.”
Then Ella headed for the wagon. Ruby was pleased to see her for she was desperate to get outside.
“Are you sure none of my hair can be seen?” she asked, as Ella tied one of the scarves tight at the back of her head. “And that the bonnet hides my face?”
Ella nodded, holding up a small hand mirror as Ruby tied the ribbons of the bonnet under her chin. “You look just like every other woman here. No-one would know who you are. And the wide brim of the bonnet shades half your face.”
Ruby laughed, well pleased. “You know, I doubt my own father would recognize me. Come on, let’s go, I can smell Clara’s biscuits,” she said, moving to the back of the wagon just as two riders came towards them.
Ella recognized Marrok, but not Willard. But he was no longer the teenager who’d left her father’s ranch fifteen years ago, but a man in his early thirties. He still owned a good head of dark hair and he was tall and lean like Martha, but his face was aged. He dismounted and went to his mother.
2
It was an emotional reunion. And it was the first time Ella had ever seen Martha cry. But that tough woman who could usually deal with anything, who had never cried in front of Ella when Quentin got sick or even when he died, for Martha had seen her brother-in-law’s death as a blessing for him in the end after his suffering, almost collapsed on seeing Willard again after fifteen years. And she cried again when she discovered she had three grandchildren with another on the way, for Willard’s wife Constance was almost four months along.
But when Martha packed up her belongings to move to Willard’s camp which was more than a mile away, it was Ella’s turn to cry. She had expected to lose Martha to her son’s family, but not have her move away entirely. So the men talked about bringing Willard’s wagons over to this side of the settlers’ camp but in the end decided it wasn’t practical, not for one week.
“We’ve got two wagons, nine men, three children and animals,” Willard said, shaking his head at the idea of moving. “We’ve been settled for almost two months where we are and the way I see it, my animals have just got enough to graze on before we roll out. Besides, Constance is taking this pregnancy pretty hard and I don’t want to put her through the stress of moving. And you’ve got enough people camped over this side. Hardly any room left for a man’s wagons and animals!”
While Martha packed her things with Ruby’s help, Ella and Willard talked of the old days. He was taken aback by how much Ella had changed. But she was only ten years old when he saw her last, now she was a grown women in her twenties and clearly with a mind of her own. When Ella spoke of Quentin, Willard was saddened to hear of his uncle’s passing.
“Uncle Quentin was always such a hard worker. I can’t remember a day when he wasn’t out there working on the land.”
A bookkeeper by trade, Willard had spent the past ten years working for a company in Boston until he and Constance decided to leave it all behind and start afresh in California. Which is when they sent the letter to Martha, asking her to join them.
“When we arrived here and there was no sign of her, I knew my letters had either gone missing or she’d passed away. Or Uncle Quentin had sold the ranch and you’d all up and left with him. One day I happened to speak of it to Artie Dalbert our wagon master and he introduced me to Marrok,” he glanced over at Marrok and nodded, acknowledging him. “Artie said there was no better man to track down my mother, if she was still alive. And it seems he was right. For not only did Marrok find her, but he found you, Ella.”
Marrok asked Willard about the changes in camp during his month away. “It seems to have swelled more than double.”
Willard nodded. “And you’ll notice soon enough that people have started to form groups, to organize their wagons into circles. There are friends travelling together, along with large family groups like our own. We’ve heard plenty of different nationalities where folk don’t speak much English, but so far everyone seems to get on alright. Although a few weeks back, just after you left to find Martha, there was some tension when supplies started running a bit low, when boats arriving here were late. And then word came in that there was a small herd of buffalo grazing not two miles inside Indian territory so a few dozen men rode up there and shot several hundred of the beasts and scattered the rest in a bid to stop them eating the grass. They brought back a lot of meat, enough to feed everyone for a few weeks at least, and so far there’s been no retaliation from the Indians. But a lot of people here wish they hadn’t done it, because they don’t want no trouble,” he paused, missing the anger that crossed Marrok’s face.
“And then there’s folk who’ve been camped here for months, since end of winter, who are getting mighty impatient. They want to get moving, but no matter how many times they’ve been told we have to wait for the prairie grasses to grow so there’s enough feed for all these animals, they’re foolish enough to want to take the chance and leave now. And then there’s others who don’t use their firewood wisely, they burn it recklessly which means folk have to walk for miles to find kindling and wood.”
Marrok had explained these things to Ella and her team on that long walk to Independence from St Louis. “Without enough grass, all those animals travelling with the wagon train will starve. And without firewood you won’t be able to cook or heat water. So make sure you pick up any kindling or piece of wood you see on the trail, because if you don’t someone behind you will. And if you see herbs along the trail that you recognize, that will flavor your cooking or help with illness, pick it, or your neighbor will.”
Ella glanced across at Marrok as he listened to Willard and thought his face once again set in hard lines, the softness she had seen in him in St Louis gone.
“And last week word came that the company we’ve paid to take us west will be rolling out by week’s end, with clo
se to two hundred wagons,” Willard continued. “Which someone reckons is the biggest wagon train yet to leave for the west.”
Marrok questioned these figures, for Willard was talking about the company he worked for as scout, which would also be taking his wagons west. But he hadn’t yet had a chance to talk to Artie and if this was true, then over one hundred wagons had joined them during the four weeks he’d been gone. He found the numbers staggering.
“Two hundred wagons?” Martha asked as she and Ruby joined them, carrying some of her bags. The rest would be collected the following day. “But what about all these other folk camped here? There’s more than two hundred wagons! Who takes them west?”
This time Marrok answered. “They’ll have paid to leave with other companies, Martha. Indeed, I heard before I left for St Louis that there were half a dozen smaller companies selling places in their trains this year. Some will be heading to California and Oregon, others will be going south on the Santa Fe trial. And people who arrive later in the season will buy up spaces with them. Although they’d better be careful. If they leave here too late they’ll get stuck this side of the Rockies over winter. And no-one wants to do that.”
With the biscuits eaten and the coffee going cold, Marrok rose and made his excuses to leave, eager to catch up with Artie and his own men. And then Willard and Martha were making plans to leave.
“We’ll catch up tomorrow Aunt, when you come to collect the rest of your cases,” Ella said, wiping away her tears. “And we’ll need to find your camp, so come and get us so we can meet your family.”