by Clay, Verna
Cooper interrupted. "Er, Hallie, the trunks are loaded and we're ready to leave."
Hallie jumped at his voice and he almost grinned. What was it about him that always startled her?
She acknowledged his presence with, "Thank you, Cooper, I'll be right there." She turned back to the old sidewinder. "I'll keep your words in mind, Mr. Tucker."
Not wanting to lose a sale, the questionable shopkeeper pointedly directed his words at Hallie, not Cooper, "So, what can I do fer ya in the way of supplies?"
Speaking crisply, Hallie responded, "Like I said, sir, I will keep you in mind." She turned, whisked past Cooper, and said under her breath, "Lying old dog."
Cooper coughed, covered his mouth to hide his smile, and followed Hallie out the door.
* * *
After a half hour's wait, the rain let up enough for them to climb onto the buckboard. Shaking water off the tarp covering their trunks and making the best of a wet situation, the Hankersons and Timmy sat in the bed of the wagon. Cooper assisted Hallie to the front of the buckboard and easily spanned her waist with his large hands. Hallie sucked a breath when his touch seemed to linger a might longer than necessary, but then she decided she was just imagining it. In her mind, Cooper was the kind of man who went for tall, buxom women, probably saloon gals, not timid, plain, skinny, country women. Again, she chastised herself for letting her mind wander. Why her thoughts kept drifting into forbidden areas, she had no idea. She turned her attention to what Cooper was saying.
"I asked around and found out there's a decent hotel in the heart of town. Also, we'll probably want to shop prices on supplies. After I get you and Tim settled in the hotel, I'll start making inquiries about oxen and a wagon." He lowered his voice. "Um, excuse me if I’m being indiscreet, but are we still working with the same availability of funds you divulged to me in Jebson, ma'am?"
Hallie lowered her own voice. "Oh, yes, of course. I have four thousand dollars from the sale of my farm and another thousand remaining in savings after Thomas purchased our land in Oregon."
Cooper nodded. "That relieves my mind. I think I'll be able to outfit you very well and get your cabin built in Oregon."
Hallie leaned closer and said softly, "Please don't forget your wages, sir. Whatever you would have profited on the sale of your crops…and a little more, should be fair."
Hallie got the feeling Cooper was amused when he responded, "Yes, ma'am." But he sounded serious when he continued, "You know, a woman running a farm alone is risky business."
Hallie sighed. "Yes, I realize that, but as I explained during our initial meetings, because of his disability, my husband was unable to do the manual labor associated with planting and harvesting, so we hired hands specifically for those tasks. Because we paid them well, they did an excellent job. And except for one year with inclement weather, we always made a tidy profit come harvest time. My husband was a very astute planner and I was prudent with our funds. And if there's one thing I know how to do, it’s farm. So, having said all that, I have no doubt I can continue that same practice. I have enough funds to keep me going until the first harvest and possibly beyond. Of course, I realize there are always unknowns in any equation, but I must fortify my courage and continue on. Farming is what I know and what I love. So please, Mr. Jerome, do not trouble yourself on my account."
She heard Cooper puff a breath and decided to change the subject. Turning to look at his profile, she asked a question that had been on her mind for some time. "Cooper, I'd like to ask you something."
He faced her. "Shoot."
His response made her smile. "You always call my son Tim, never Timmy, like everyone else. I was just wondering why."
Cooper studied her eyes for a second and then returned his gaze to the road. Maneuvering the reins, he guided the horses around a bend before responding. When he did, his answer surprised her.
"Well, Hallie, I'll tell you why, but you may not like what I have to say."
Hallie furrowed her forehead, then said hesitantly, "Please continue."
Cooper readjusted his hat, which sent splashes of water onto the floorboard and sprinkles across Hallie's skirt. Finally, he spoke. "Your boy may be young, Hallie, but he's havin' to grow up fast. Calling him Timmy is like…well…not lettin' him grow up…like keepin' him a toddler. Now the name Tim, it's a man's name, something your boy is going to become faster because of losin' his pa." Cooper paused, and Hallie saw him glance at her profile and then back at the road. "I hope you understand what I'm trying to say. I don't mean any offense."
Hallie fingered a tear, turning so that Cooper could only see the back of her head. When she felt like her voice wouldn't tremble, she looked straight ahead again and replied, "I do understand. Thank you for telling me. I'm going to ponder your words and talk to Timmy…" she smiled slightly, "…Tim …about what you've said."
Unexpectedly, Cooper reached and covered her hands folded tightly in her lap with one of his big ones. The contact only lasted a second, but it comforted Hallie.
Chapter 10: Gee Haw
Over the next few days, Hallie's mind swam with all the information she'd gleaned from Cooper, Emmett, and other emigrants flooding Westport. The town was a beehive of activity from sunrise until well after sundown. The list of supplies she began on the Mirabella was revised and added to daily. She now had quantities to add to some entries. Early one morning, while Tim still slept, she took advantage of first light and sat beside the window reviewing her list.
Glancing at her son, she smiled when she thought about how well he'd taken to being called Tim. As gently as she could, she tried to explain what Cooper had said, but Timmy interrupted, "Ma, I been wantin' to be called Tim since Mr. Jerome started callin' me that. Timmy is a baby's name, but I was afraid I'd hurt your feelings if I told you not to call me that anymore."
After their conversation, he informed Sammy that he wanted to be called Tim, and Sammy responded with, "Then I want to be called Sam."
Hallie was fearful that Emmett and Lydia would become offended, but when she explained, they agreed wholeheartedly. Emmett declared, "Sammy, you are now officially Sam because this journey is going to grow you up, too."
Hallie returned her thoughts to her rewritten list.
500 pounds flour
400 pounds smoked bacon
150 pounds lard
120 pounds hardtack
75 pounds sugar
50 pounds coffee
50 pounds rice
50 pounds beans
10 pounds salt
2 pounds tea
5 gallons whiskey
vinegar
dried fruit
dried vegetables
saleratus
parched corn
corn meal (also for packing eggs)
Hallie sighed. This was just the food. Turning to the next list, she read:
Washtub
Washboard
Flatiron and starch
Soap
Coffee grinder
Coffee pot
Utensils
Skillet
Pots and pans
Dutch oven
Reflector oven
Lanterns
Candles
Tripod
Buckets
Canteens
Water barrels
Sewing supplies
Shovel, pick axe, hammer, hatchet, saw, other tools
Hallie paused to gaze out the window. The tedious task of reviewing her lists was forgotten in the beauty of daybreak. Pink suffused the eastern sky with golden streaks fanning outward like loving fingers attempting to touch the soil. Imagining the moment she would step onto her land brought a smile and quiet laughter, and she whispered, "Five more days and we leave for Oregon."
She lifted her eyes to the pink heavens. "Tom, I just want you to know Cooper is taking good care of us. He's been haggling with the merchants and getting the best prices for the best goods. He doesn't settle for seconds. Sometimes I argue with hi
m over wanting to load the wagon with more supplies, but he swears overloading is the worst thing we could do." She paused, glanced at Tim, still snoring, and then back at the painted sky. "I trust him, Tom."
* * *
Cooper examined the seven oxen. They looked to be sturdy, well fed, and dependable. He wanted this team but the price being asked was still too high. Pursing his lips, he eyeballed the stable owner with a direct stare and the man's return gaze didn't waver. Cooper decided he was an honest man. "Two hundred and forty-five dollars is still too high. I'll give you two hundred."
The leather-faced old merchant pulled on a strand of his gray beard that fanned out over his chest. "Nope. You're too low. These are some of the finest oxen in Westport. Hell, make that Independence and Westport." He cocked his head at an angle and pulled on his beard again. "Two hundred and twenty-five dollars. That's with a price break on the extra ox."
Cooper glanced back at the oxen, walked around them, felt them again, and grinned when his back was to the old fart. Wiping the grin off his face, he turned back around and stuck out his hand. "You strike a mean bargain, Mr. Piper, but I'll pay your price."
After paying half the amount as earnest money, Cooper made arrangements to pick the oxen up the day they left. He grinned at his good fortune. So far, the day had yielded oxen and a wagon. The prairie schooner he'd purchased for one hundred dollars was premium quality and the seller had thrown in a bucket of grease and spare parts, including spokes and an axle. The canvas had been well oiled with linseed to make it waterproof and the wheels were wide, making for easier travel in sandy soils.
Yep, Cooper was happy with his purchases and looked forward to the smile that would light Hallie's face when he told her.
Four days before departure, Hallie sat beside Cooper on their rented buckboard while the Hankersons and Tim rode in the back. Postings on the community wall and in the local newspaper had informed anyone bound for the trail with Wagon Train Master Captain Jeremiah J. Jones to meet in front of City Hall for the purpose of discussing "Important Particulars," and also to take a headcount.
Hallie's heart raced; soon she would be traveling to a new state, a new home, and new beginnings. Excitement and fear of the unknown vied for preeminence of her emotions. Calming herself with slow breaths, she glanced sideways at Cooper. His expertise in negotiating the best deals on the best supplies made her forever grateful to him. Since the night on the boat when he'd spoken harshly to her, he hadn't brought up the incident again, and his manner was always patient and gentlemanly, quite in contrast to his rough appearance. Remembering his treatment of the two cowpokes who had accosted her and his wielding of not one, but two pistols, as if such behavior were an often occurrence, she tried to reconcile that man with the one beside her—a man who was kind to animals and respectful of women.
The braking of the buckboard brought Hallie back to the present and she glanced across the street at the gathering crowd, excitement overcoming her fear. She couldn't wait for a glimpse of Captain Jones. Cooper lead her across the street holding her elbow while she held Tim's, who after their conversation about his name, informed her that only babies held their mother's hand.
A platform, no doubt for politicians and city leaders to address the public, had been built in front of the steps to City Hall and Cooper directed them to an open space on one side of it.
While they waited for Captain Jones, Hallie glanced at the emigrants filling the square. Such an assortment of people she had never seen altogether in one place. Most of the pioneers were families with children of every age—babies to adults. She was surprised by the number of older husbands and wives and it made her smile. Just goes to show you're never too old to seek adventure and new beginnings.
Among the crowd, she noted a gathering of "fancy women," their colorful satin bodices revealing generous cleavages and their decorative hats with feathers showcasing upswept hairstyles in startling contrast to the plain bonnets and buns of the country women, herself included. Moving her gaze past them, she stiffened when she recognized the slimy cowboys who had accosted her—Stubby and his cohort, Harley.
Glancing at Cooper, she saw that he, too, had spotted them. His eyes, as hard and cold as lead shot on a frosty morning, sent chills up her spine. When she returned her gaze to Stubby and Harley, she saw Harley elbowing his friend and pointing in her direction. Stubby turned and his eyes widened, forcing his forehead into grimy creases. Hallie was close enough to read Stubby's lips as he mouthed, "Sheeit!" Saying something to Harley, he made a flapping motion with one hand and the two of them edged to the outermost grouping of people.
Cooper bent down to her. "Rest assured, Hallie, they won't even glance in your direction after I have another talk with them."
Hallie couldn't help but laugh. "I think you've already put the fear of God in them just with your expression. Thank you."
Cooper laughed also. "I've never been thanked for my ugly mug, but I'll make sure to keep it pointed in their direction throughout the journey."
Ugly mug? Hallie nearly objected—vehemently, but then realized how improper it would be to tell him how handsome she thought him to be.
A wave of excitement rolled through the crowd, bringing Hallie's attention to the platform when a man, probably in his fifties and dressed in military attire, jumped up on the wooden dais. He looked to be as tall and muscular as the folklore character, Paul Bunyan. His booming voice reminded her of cracking thunder when he shouted, "Listen up, pioneers! I'm Captain Jeremiah J. Jones and I proudly served in the Union army. Now that the war is over, I still serve my country as a civilian consultant, but I'm back to doin' what I do best—makin' sure ya'll reach your destinations in one piece. So, that bein' said, I've got instructions that need to be followed exactly as I give 'em. Anyone wantin' to rebel might as well find another train to hitch up with. I'm a mean wagon master when it comes to givin' orders and I don't take no sass!" He paused for effect and then bellowed, "Is that understood?" When the intimidated crowd didn't answer, the captain yelled, "Is that understood?"
Cooper was the first to call out, "Yes, sir. Your leadership is legendary. I, for one, understand."
After that, men, women, and children nodded and affirmed—almost of one accord— "Yes, sir."
The captain continued, "Good. I always like gettin' that out of the way first. Now about those 'Important Particulars.' In a minute I'm going to tell you where to relocate your wagons after they're loaded, what to pack, and acceptable behavior on the trail. But before I do, I want to reinforce the fact that your life and the lives of your fellow travelers depend on you followin' instructions. And here's one more admonishment, "DO NOT OVERPACK OR YOU WILL END UP DUMPIN' YOUR GOODS ALONGSIDE THE TRAIL!"
Pointedly, Captain Jones glared from person to person. He asked loudly, "Is that understood?"
In concert, the pioneers quickly affirmed, "Yes, sir!"
Hallie held her hand to her heart. The wagon master was the most fearsome man she had ever encountered. She glanced from beneath her lashes to see Cooper's reaction. Whereas Captain Jones scared the daylights out of her, an amused smile played across Cooper's lips. Does nothing and no one scare him?
* * *
For the next two days, Cooper, with Hallie and Tim accompanying him, drove their buckboard to different merchants to pay for food staples, tools, and a passel of other supplies. Cooper estimated their load would be around nineteen hundred pounds, well within the higher limit of twenty-five hundred pounds, tops, instructed by Captain Jones.
On the third day he returned to the businesses to load their prairie schooner with their purchases, and, feeling satisfied with their cargo, met Hallie and Tim in front of their hotel. The final item to be loaded was Hallie's trunk. Tossing a coin to a strong looking boy for assistance, the two of them loaded it, and after a final inspection of the wagon and oxen, milk cow and his own horse, Cooper turned to Tim. "Are you ready?"
"Oh, yes, sir!"
He glanced at Hallie. "What ab
out you?"
"You know I am." A sudden softness overcame her features. "I can't thank you enough. Without you, we wouldn't have accomplished this."
Cooper glanced away from the admiration in her eyes. Whether she knew it or not, right now her feelings were easy to discern, and she was having feelings for him. Hell, the last thing he needed was a complication in his life. He had to stay focused on his mission—deliver Hallie and Tim to Oregon, get them settled, and then return post haste to Missouri. Entanglements with a woman and her kid were not options and the feelings he was having for her scared the bejesus out of him. After the fiasco of his marriage, he was a loner and intended to stay that way.
Turning back to face her, he recognized her hurt expression by him not acknowledging her heartfelt thank you. He smiled slightly. "You're very welcome, Mrs. Wells, but thank-yous are not necessary." There, calling her Mrs. Wells should get my point across.
Raising his whip, he slapped it in the air and called, "Giddup." Glancing back around at Hallie and Tim, he nodded, and they began the first mile on foot of their over two thousand mile journey.
* * *
Following a well-worn road behind other prairie schooners traveling to the Cave Spring campsite Captain Jones had designated, Hallie marveled at the numbers headed west though Cooper said the numbers had significantly dwindled from its heyday in the 1840s and 50s. Alongside the road emigrants set up camp in every imaginable apparatus. Some slept in the open, some in tents, some in magnificent schooners like her own, some in rehabilitated farm wagons. And everywhere there were animals: oxen, cows, mules, horses, chickens, dogs, and an occasional cat.
But, oh, the smells: soggy earth from a recent rain, animal dung, flowering trees, spring grasses, even the odor of pioneers needing a bath. When a cool morning breeze lifted the odors, mingled them, and pushed them across the road, Hallie pressed her handkerchief to her nose just as Cooper turned around. He laughed at her squeamishness, cracked his whip, and yelled, "Haw," to correct the animals to the left. Then he called "Gee" because he'd overcorrected them. Finally he got them moving straight ahead.
