The Scarlet Thread

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The Scarlet Thread Page 19

by Francine Rivers


  It is beyond my thinking why any woman would choose to go to Oregon let alone work so hard to get there.

  I wonder who she is and why she is so Determined to leave Civilization behind.

  James said the woman following us is French and from New Orleans and I am to have no discourse with her. I asked him why and he would not tell me. I said I would talk to whom I please and he said I would not. I asked how he come to know so much about her and he said Kavanaugh told him. I told him it was his rotation on guard duty and he should go. Ruckel Buckeye and Apollo Hendershott are also on duty tonight. Kavanaugh told us from the start the Indians have a fondness for stock and the men must keep their Eyes Open. James was mad enough when he left the fire that he will have no trouble staying awake.

  We have reached Alcove Springs. There were so many wagons, we felt we were right back in Independence. We will move on tomorrow for better forage for the animals. I spent the afternoon washing clothes.

  I can hear fiddles playing on the night air. James wants to dance. He has not said so, but I can tell because his foot is tapping. He keeps looking at me and waiting for me to say something.

  I would like to say something, but he would not like to hear it.

  Chapter 14

  The intercom on Sierra’s desk buzzed. She pressed the button. “Yes, Arlene?”

  “You have a call on line two.”

  “Thank you.” Sierra pressed the line two button, thinking it was the counselor she’d been trying to reach. “Sierra Madrid speaking.”

  “It’s Alex.”

  Her heart leaped, then crashed when he got straight to the point. “The house is yours. My attorney says I’m making a mistake, but I want you to have it. I’ve already had the deed changed over into your name. Same for your BMW. You’ll get the papers certified mail in a day or two.”

  His voice was so cold, her fingers felt icy around the telephone receiver. “Do you feel absolved now? Do you think giving me a house and car makes everything right?”

  “I think I’m being more than fair.”

  “Fair?” Her throat closed. “I never realized you thought adultery and desertion were fair.”

  “As soon as you get an attorney, we can get all the details of the divorce settled. The quicker it’s done, the easier it’ll be on all of us.”

  She had no intention of making it easy for him. Trembling, she put her hand over her eyes. “I won’t give you a divorce, Alex. I already told you that.”

  He swore in Spanish. “I’m not coming back, Sierra. You’d better understand that here and now. I want out!”

  “You’re already out. You just don’t have the legal documents to prove it. And you never will.” She slammed the phone down.

  She was shaking violently, her heart hammering. Clenching her fists, she pressed the heels against her eyes and tried to push the emotions down deep inside her.

  “Are you all right?” Ron said from the doorway.

  She didn’t answer. Breathing slowly, she stuffed the feelings deeper and deeper, until she felt cold and still inside. She couldn’t even feel her heart beating. “Yes,” she said and turned away, finding her place on the schedule she’d been typing for the next week.

  Ron came over to her desk and pressed the intercom button. “Hold all calls until I tell you otherwise, Arlene. Sierra and I need to have a conference.” Releasing the button, he put his hands on the back of Sierra’s chair and rolled it two feet away from her desk. “Let’s talk about what’s going on.”

  She didn’t move; it was better if she kept her back to him. “I’d rather not.”

  “If you keep any more stuffed inside you, you’re going to explode.”

  “I talk about it.”

  “With Marcia,” he said simply. “I don’t think she’s helping much.”

  “And a few others.”

  “Meredith?”

  “I’ve talked the situation over with her attorney,” Sierra admitted. “Alex can’t get a divorce, not without my help, and I’m not going to give it to him.”

  “You’ve lost weight in the last month, Sierra. You look like you aren’t sleeping.”

  “Thanks, Ron. I needed to hear that,” she said and looked away. Carolyn had come into her bedroom again last night. It seemed she came in every night, crying over another nightmare.

  She felt his hand on her shoulder. “I care about you, Sierra. I hate to see you hurting like this.”

  The gentleness in his voice was almost her undoing. “I don’t think there’s any way around it.”

  “I want to help.”

  Maybe she did need to talk to someone other than Marcia. She was always so full of ideas on how to force Alex into coming home and taking up his proper responsibilities as husband and father—ideas that Sierra knew would be a waste of time. Manipulation wouldn’t work with Alex.

  It wasn’t the first time Ron had offered his shoulder to cry on. She had hesitated to take up the offer, not wanting to bring her problems into work. But wasn’t she doing that already? Ron cared about her. God knew, she needed someone to care. Alex certainly didn’t.

  “Come on,” Ron said.

  Letting out her breath, she rose and followed him into his office. He closed the door behind her.

  “Didn’t someone from the school call you this morning?” Ron poured a mug of coffee and held it out to her.

  “Clanton was in another fight,” she said, taking it. She sat in the wing chair in front of his desk.

  Ron poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned on the desk in front of her. “That’s two fights this week, isn’t it?”

  “The school counselor knows what’s been going on. She says he’s ‘acting out his anger.’”

  “Has Alex spoken to him?”

  She gave a bleak laugh. “Even if Alex tried, Clanton wouldn’t talk to him.”

  “Why not?”

  She shook her head. “I told the children why Alex left. The first time he called, Clanton answered and said he hated him and never wanted to see him again. Alex asked to speak with Carolyn, but she was crying too hard to even talk to him.” She held the coffee cup between both hands, wishing the warmth would seep through enough to stop her shaking. “Alex blamed me, of course.” She took a slow breath, trying to control her voice. “He said I’d turned his children against him.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “He didn’t give me a chance to say anything. After he said his piece, he hung up.” Alex had cursed her in Spanish before doing so. “All I did was tell them the truth. What else could I say when they asked why their father hadn’t come home for three days? I told them their father had decided to live with another woman. Those are the facts. I told them it wasn’t because he didn’t love them anymore. It’s because he doesn’t love me. I’d like to know how else I could’ve broken the news.”

  “Take it easy,” Ron said with a sympathetic smile. “I’m not criticizing you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m just sick and tired of having Alex blame me for everything. He says all the problems the children are having now are my fault. He’s the one having the affair. He’s the one who deserted his family. And yet everything is my fault.”

  “It’s human nature to want to blame someone else.”

  Just as she was blaming Alex for everything? Was that what he was saying? She pressed her lips together. Well, wasn’t it Alex’s fault? If he hadn’t left her and the children and moved in with his mistress, everything would be fine.

  “Speak the truth, Sierra.”

  Her face burned at the remembered admonition. Whenever she or Mike had tried to justify something they’d done as children, Mom would always look them right in the eye and say those quiet words.

  Speak the truth. . . .

  The truth. Things hadn’t been right between her and Alex in a long, long time. She knew it, but she also knew she wasn’t ready to face it. She quickly averted her thoughts from that path and focused on the children instead. “I’m not sure what to do about
Clanton. He’s been in the principal’s office four times over the last two weeks, and his report card is a disaster. He quit baseball without even telling me. When I asked him why, he said he didn’t care about it anymore. He used to love it, Ron. Now, all he does is sit in his room and play video games.”

  “What about Carolyn?”

  “She’s the exact opposite. Clanton tells me every afternoon that he has no homework, whereas she works on assignments for hours. She was devastated the other day when she missed one word on a spelling test.”

  “Is she still having the nightmares?”

  Sierra nodded. “She had another last night. She came into my room at one in the morning, crying and saying she’d dreamed I’d died in a car accident.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Marcia says it’s fear of losing both parents. With Alex gone, she’s afraid something will happen to me, too.”

  “Marcia’s spent enough time in counseling to be an expert,” Ron said with a faint smile. “Listen, I think you all need a break. Why don’t you and the kids go with me to Catalina on Saturday?”

  Startled by the invitation, she looked up at him. “Catalina?”

  “We’re having great sailing weather.”

  “Sailing?”

  “Yes, sailing. Don’t look so doubtful. I’m good at it. I sailed to Fiji by myself when I was twenty-three.”

  “I had no idea,” she said for the sake of conversation. Her mind was whirring. She felt vaguely uncomfortable, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. Her cheeks grew warm as he continued to study her.

  “I wasn’t suggesting anything inappropriate,” he said, his tone sincere.

  Her face went hot. “Oh, I know that!” she said quickly. “But . . .”

  “But what?”

  “You’re my boss.”

  His mouth tipped. “I’m also your friend.” He straightened and went around his desk, sitting in his swivel chair. She wondered if he sensed she needed distance between them to feel at ease with him again. “I’ll ask Marcia and Tom and their children to come along,” he said. “They’ve been to Catalina with me several times. Pamela and Reed are good little sailors. They can teach Clanton and Carolyn how to man the ropes.”

  Sierra smiled bleakly. “It’d be a relief not to sit around the house all weekend obsessing about Alex and Elizabeth Longford.” As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. Somehow, pairing their names aloud brought up all the pain and humiliation. Feeling the warning prick of oncoming tears, she looked away briefly. “I think the children would enjoy it, too,” she said when she’d regained her self-control.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at five on Saturday.”

  “Isn’t that sort of late?” she said, rising and taking his empty coffee cup. She’d rinse them out in the kitchenette down the hall. “It’ll only give us a couple of hours before dark.”

  He laughed. “Five in the morning, Sierra.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “I’m being kind to you. I usually like to get an earlier start. I’ll tell Marcia to give you a call. She can tell you what to wear.”

  It rained all day.

  Aphie McKenzie had a baby boy as we were traveling. The road was mud and hard pulling. The jouncing made it even harder on poor Aphie. She is not a strong girl, and it was a Difficult Birth and she is in a Very Bad Way. Rain was blowing in on us as we helped her. Doc Murphy did what he could to make her comfortable. Oren gave the baby to Winifred Holtz to nurse.

  Nellie is praying hard for Aphie but I don’t think it will do much good.

  We have had a week of good weather. I never imagined the prairie to be so boundless and beautiful. It stretches as far as I can see and not a tree in sight. Green grass waves and flows and wild flowers are growing everywhere and making splashes of every color of the rainbow clear to the horizon. The great distance scares me. There seems no end to it.

  The Platte River is before us. I have heard much of this great river that runs like a line from east to west. It looks to be running bottom side up it is so brown. The islands in the middle have willows and cottonwoods. We are in need of firewood. James and some of the other men have gone across to get some. Others are making do with what they have. Werner Hoffman burned his wife’s Gothic bookcase yesterday. She is still grieving over it. It did not comfort her that Cal Chaffey broke up a mahogany secretary that has been in his family for over a hundred years. His grandfather brought it over by ship from England.

  Binger Siddons found a piano that had been dumped along the trail. Athena Hendershott asked to play it before the men put axes to it. She made it sound pure heaven. Cal Chaffey joined in on his mouth organ. I sang The Orphan Girl and Sweet Charlotte. James asked if she could play Are You Still Mad at Me, Darling, and she did. I did not think it funny. Athena played until the sunset and then left the men to break it up. Kaiser Vandervert cried when he put his ax to it.

  We are camped at new Fort Childs. It is named in honor of Colonel Thomas Childs. Some think the fort should be named Fort Kearny to honor General Stephen Watts Kearny and after the other fort that was on Table Creek. I do not much care who it is named after or where it was before. I am glad the old Fort Kearny was moved here from Table Creek and we have some sight of Civilization before we head out over the Great American Desert to face God knows what.

  There are Grand Islands in the center of the Platte and more than 170 military men Working Diligently on the fort. A few sod shelters are finished. Prices at the trading post are High. The soldiers are making adobe bricks and there is much cutting and sawing going on.

  Indians are here in large number. Kavanaugh said they have come to trade. They have conical houses of poles and hides. Kavanaugh said they can take down the “tipis” and be on the move quicker than James can harness the teams of oxen. He said the Indians live this way because they follow the buffalo. I said there are no buffalo here and he said there will be plenty soon enough.

  Joshua was very interested in the Indians. Kavanaugh said we are crossing their land and eating their game and leaving nothing in return. A day will come when they will not be so hospitable.

  James found a carved bed and chopped it up for fuel. I could not help but wonder who slept in it. It was such a grand headboard with leaves and vines. What a shame to burn such a costly thing, but we have to eat and need a fire to cook over.

  Beth and my sweet little Deborah just brought an armload of flowers to camp. They both have Mama’s love of flowers. Beth is busy weaving garlands for our hair. The children seem to think we are on a long picnic! I am so tired by the time the sun goes down that I can hardly put two words together. James said we made 18 miles today. It feels more like 100 by the time we make camp, but he is pleased. He says if we keep the pace, we will reach Oregon in plenty of time before winter sets in.

  I long for a bath. A week ago I was soaked to the skin with rain and my skirt was caked with mud. Now my skin is raw and itching from the dust that seeps under my dress. My shoes are already wearing out. I long for Sunday when we will have a day of rest. Virgil Boon preached last time. I did not agree with a word he said, but he was entertaining.

  Poor little Aphie McKenzie died last night. Oren is Heart Broken.

  The men dug her grave right in the trail so the wagons could go over it. Kavanaugh said no wolves would catch the scent nor Indians see the signs of a grave that way. It makes me sad that not even a marker bearing her name will be left, but it would make me feel worse to think wolves dug her up and ate her or Indians stripped her clean of the pretty wedding dress Oren insisted she wear to meet her Maker.

  Oren is just nineteen. James says he will mend, but I am afraid for him. He has no interest in his son. I asked James to keep close watch over Oren. James said he would be pleased to do so as long as I keep talking to him. I said I would talk to the devil himself if he agreed to make sure that boy does not hang himself to whatever tree he can find.

  The baby seems to be faring well in Winifred’s care. She
has milk aplenty and a good heart. Perhaps she will give him a name.

  I have not seen the French woman’s fire burning the last two nights. I asked MacLeod what become of her. He said he did not know. I hope Indians did not take her.

  I never thought I would see the day that I would be cooking over a fire of animal dung. We have not seen a single buffalo yet, but are burning their leavings and thankful to have them. Kavanaugh said buffalo “chips” are good fuel and he is right. The cook fire is hot and there is no smell. Joshua shot two rabbits. I spitted and roasted them. The sparks that shot up made them taste lightly of pepper.

  Harlan Doane was killed today. It happened just before our usual nooning. It was hot and he was dozing. He fell off the high wagon seat and broke his neck. No one knew anything happened until Nellie started screaming.

  All I could do was hold Nellie and cry with her. I did not know what to say to comfort her. If I had a word of wisdom I could not have gotten it out. Joshua is just sitting against the wagon wheel not saying anything. Harlan was his best friend.

  Death comes sudden and awful on the trail.

  I am so afraid of losing one of my own.

  We reached the South Platte this morning. Kavanaugh went across ahead of the wagons and drove long poles to mark the way. Ruckel thought he knew a better place to cross and almost lost his wagon in quicksand. MacLeod shouted loud enough to be heard back in Galena he was so mad. He said next time they would leave Ruckel in the river rather than risk life and limb for a fool who could not listen to those more experienced.

  Kavanaugh came back to ride with us on the way across. He had James water the animals before starting out. He said not to let them stop or the wagon would sink into the sand. The Platte may be shallow, but it is treacherous.

  We all made the crossing with no Disasters. Nellie gave thanks to God on the other side.

  Beth and I doctored one of our oxen during the nooning. The poor animal was chaffed from being in harness. The wound was crawling with blow fly eggs and worms. I cleaned it out and put bacon rind over the chaffing. MacLeod said it will soothe the wound and keep the harness from rubbing more. Beth walked beside the animal until we made camp. The poor beast seems better this evening.

 

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