The Oregon Trail Series
Short Stories
By
Laura Stapleton
The Oregon Trail Series
Short Stories
By Laura L. Stapleton
Text Copyright © 2016 Laura L Stapleton
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. Any resemblance to real individuals is purely coincidental. No reproductions in any form may be made of this story.
Now for the first time in one volume, the entire short story collection from The Oregon Trail Series.
Unavoidable - Nick Granville lives as a hermit in Missouri until he learns a trip west becomes unavoidable.
Unexpected - Sam Granville counted on marrying his childhood sweetheart. A change of heart isn't what he expected.
Unfortunate - Daggart Bartlett counted on digging gold during the day, staying drunk all night. When some gal sets her sights on him, he wonders why he's so unfortunate.
Lucky's Christmas Wish - Lucky Martin arrived in Oregon Territory with a good life and steady employment. Yet, there's one wish that tugs at his heart.
DEDICATION
This collection of short stories is dedicated to the men and women who traveled across the United States in search of a better life. Their experiences enriched my stories.
Acknowledgements
I couldn’t have written this without all the information gleaned from others. The Bureau of Land Management, the Three Trails Museum, JOURNAL OF A TRIP TO OREGON By Abigail Jane Scott, and the US National Park Service.
Table of Contents
Unavoidable
Unexpected
Unfortunate
Lucky’s Christmas Wish
Other Books by Laura Stapleton
About the Author
Unavoidable
Samuel Granville squinted against the midday sun as it filtered through the forest’s canopy above him. Breaking through the small copse of trees, he saw his brother Nick’s home. At the base of a hill, the home butted up against the earth. The slope served as the back wall while the other three walls were made up of rough-hewn boards. Sam dismounted, tying Scamp next to Nick’s horse. Grinning, he scratched between the other animal’s ears. “How are you, Buck? You’re a better horse than my brother deserves.”
“Good thing he doesn’t agree with you.”
Sam turned at the other man’s voice. His brother stood there at the doorway of his home, wearing a ratty shirt and prospector pants complete with rips and tears. The man’s black hair showed the first hints of grey, silver threads among the midnight ink. Nick’s eyes didn’t seem vacant with grief, something Sam considered an improvement. His personal appearance still suffered with his scraggly beard stopping just short of his chest. Sam judged his brother was beginning to show signs of recovery, just not enough to shave apparently. He didn’t think before blurting, “You look a mess.”
Shrugging, his brother went back into his house. “I don’t care.”
“I can see that.” Sam followed him in, trying to see in the dimness. A cook stove sat under the window, its exhaust pipe threaded through a hole cut in the wooden wall. The one room, man-made cave held just enough for a person to live and not much else. “Do you stay here all winter too? I’d go stir crazy in this hole.”
Nick leaned against the rock wall, his arms crossed. “What are you doing here?”
Idly wondering if spiders lived in the darker crannies, Sam laughed at his brother’s surly tone. “What, no brotherly love or concern for the trip I must have had to find you? No refreshments after my long journey?”
His eyebrows rose at the tone in Sam’s voice. “I can imagine you’re parched after all that talking.” Nick sighed. “Very well. I’ll get you a drink since you don’t seem to have one of your own.”
The younger man looked around the home as if storing every detail to memory. “I have a full water canteen, but was hoping you’d have liquor.”
Nick laughed. He retrieved a half full bottle and a couple of old canning jars from a shelf by his cook stove. Gesturing to the chair, he poured them each a drink and asked, “Since when do you want liquor this early in the day?”
Sam brushed off the seat before sitting and taking one of the jars from him. “Since finding my own flesh and blood living like a hermit out in the middle of . . . well, wherever this is.”
Crossing over to the bed, Nick sat on the edge and took a deep sip. He wasn’t used to the bite so early in the day despite the cavalier attitude he presented to Sam. “It’s Missouri, albeit not the most populous part.”
Sam grinned, draining the last of his liquor. “I can see that.”
Nick nodded at the bottle and Sam shook his head. After a while, he finished his own drink, and staring down at the empty jar, asked, “How is everyone at home?”
The chair’s rope seat creaked under Sam as he settled in. “Still well. Pa is as busy as ever with the farm, and Ma is losing patience over your absence.”
Memories, mostly of him getting into trouble and earning his mother’s frown, flooded his mind. “I imagine.”
Sam gave him the jar before asking, “When are you coming back?”
Nick grinned at the hell their mother must have given him. “I’m not.”
Returning his brother’s smile, Sam said, “Yes, you are.”
His expression turned serious. Nick set his own glass next to the liquor. “No, I’m not.”
Sam paused before arguing any more. This yes and no wasn’t getting them anywhere. His older brother was just as smart, though maybe not as charming or crafty as him. “You have a lovely home here.” At Nick’s sneer, Sam stood and held up his hands. “You do! It’s clean, just a little musty, and the window adds a lot of light.”
“Fine. I suppose you’ll pester me until I give in.” Nick straightened his bed’s cover and faced his younger brother. “What do you want?”
Lifting his chin, Sam replied, “I want you to go with me back home. I’ve arranged to lead a group to Oregon Territory.”
“By yourself?”
“No. Claude, Lucky, Chuck, and Larry came with me across Panama.” He grinned, enjoying the respect he saw in Nick’s eyes. “We have everything ready to leave.”
“Then you don’t need me.” Nick paused at his threshold while on his way outside, holding the door open for Sam as he followed.
Stopping his older brother by standing in front of him, Sam said, “I always need you. We all do, Nick. It’s not the same without you.”
He shook his head, looking down at the ground. “Nothing can be. Not without Sally and our baby.”
Sam patted Nick on the shoulder. He’d never known what to say to his brother after the death of his family. The only thing Sam could do was imagine how he’d feel if the same had happened to him. “It tears your heart out. I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you can. Not unless it happened to you.” He frowned. “The loss gets easier as time passes but the pain is still there, lurking in the corners of my mind.”
Trailing after Nick as he walked down to the creek, Sam said, “I do know that if the situation were reversed and Sally lived like this, you’d haunt her from beyond.”
Nick chuckled. “Good point. I probably would.” He sat down on a large rock jutting out from the bank. Loose gravel lay scattered behind him, and he scooped up a handful.
Finding his own seat, Sam too took a handful of pebbles. Like his brother, he threw each one into the water, trying to skip the flatter ones across the surface. After a long pause, Sam said, “Do you not see how your mourning has gone on for far too long?”
“My grief has
n’t ended.”
He shrugged. “It probably never will. Are you going to live in a cave from now on, cut off from the rest of the world?”
Nick grabbed some more rocks to throw. “That’s my plan.”
Sam brushed the dirt from his hands, just watching as his brother’s stones rippled the flowing water. “What has you so afraid of life?”
Fixing him with a cold blue stare, Nick said, “I am not afraid of anything.”
Glad he’d struck a nerve, Sam tried not to smile. “Hmm, you’re afraid of something, something significant, or you’d be back home being the healer you were meant to be.”
Nick shook his head. “No. Not that and never again, Sam. That part of my life is over and done.”
“What part is this, then? Where you hide out, playing hermit?”
“I’m not playing, damn it. None of this is a game.” Nick leaned back against a tree, looking up at the sky.
“Maybe not.” Sam also leaned back and stared at the green canopy above them. He didn’t want Nick angry; he just wanted him back among the living. “Look, we agree how I can’t know what you’ve endured. The thing is, there are a lot of people out there who need you.”
A coughing laugh escaped him. “The one time someone’s life depended on me, I let her and our baby die.”
Before thinking, Sam said, “You’re absurd. Letting had nothing to do with it. Some things can’t be helped.”
Nick closed his eyes as if shutting out the other man. “Nice talking with you. Tell our parents I’m well.”
“Tell them yourself.” Sam looked sideways to see what affect his words had on him.
Seeming asleep, a smile played around his lips. “I do. I send letters.”
“It’s not enough. You need to come home with me.”
Nick sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “No I don’t. Letters home are enough for a lot of people in this country. I’m not the first son to move away from his family and doubt I’ll be the last.”
“Probably not.” Sam’s mind raced, thinking up then rejecting various arguments. A light wind rustled through the treetops, and the answer hit him. “Nicholas, ride into town with me. I’ll introduce you to the men I’ve hired and to the various people I’ll be leading west.”
“Why?”
“Why not? I came all this way from concern over you. The least you could do is keep me company for my efforts. Maybe even show a little support.”
Nick drummed his fingertips on his leg for a few seconds before saying, “Very well. I’ll go, let everyone know they’re in good hands with you, and come back here when we’re done.” He stood and went into his house, coming back out with his saddle and wearing a hat. “Let’s get there so I can get back here before dark.”
Sam stood, brushing dirt from his pants before heading toward Scamp. “Don’t you think you ought to change into nicer clothes? Why not bring everything you want to take in case you change your mind and come home with me?”
“No. I’m good.” Nick concentrated on saddling Buck.
“Once we get there, you’ll want to buy soap.”
“What makes you think I don’t have any?” He frowned at the younger man.
Shrugging, Sam made sure his horse’s saddle was snug. “Your smell, for one.”
Nick grinned. “I don’t smell anything.”
Sam refrained from implying how Nick’s nose must be defective. He grinned instead, enjoying his brother’s attempt at a joke. Mounting their horses, he followed the older man down the overgrown trail as it ran along the wide creek. They didn’t talk, the narrow road keeping them in single file for a good hour or so. Just as well, thought Sam. He needed the time to change his strategy. A direct approach hadn’t worked. He’d have to figure some other way. “So you’ve lived in that cave house for how long?”
“I don’t know. A year or two. Two.”
“What’s it like in the winter?”
“Not bad.”
They broke out of the wooded area into a wide valley carved by prehistoric meanderings of the Missouri river. The air held the crisp, clean smell of early spring. Some of the tree leaves unfurled from their buds. Other branches remained bare, waiting for the last threat of frost to pass. This season never failed to galvanize Sam. He trotted his horse next to and glanced over at Nick. His brother, on the other hand, preferred fall and all the colors, something Sam could use against him. “You’ve missed several autumns at home. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners.”
“I don’t care.”
Sam heard the truth behind his words. Nick might be softening, but the war wasn’t over just yet. He had to keep digging under his brother’s outer shell and offered, “I can’t imagine it’s all that special out here that time of the year. Grey, damp, lonely.”
Eyes narrowed, Nick stared at him. “You’ve described the territory just fine.”
“It’s not lonely in Oregon. There’s plenty of people, new arrivals and old friends.” Sam looked straight ahead. He could almost feel Nick’s frustration like a wood stove’s heat. Sensing victory loomed close, he added, “If being around your own family seemed too painful, that is.”
Hearing more in Sam’s tone than in his words, Nick looked at his brother. He’d missed his parents and brother more than he’d expected. Before thinking, he said, “Have to admit, the further I run, the less it matters about where I go. I can’t escape my own mind.”
“Do we need to turn around and get your belongings?”
Shaking his head, Nick said, “No. I like it there. I don’t feel ready for people.” He pulled up Buck as Sam pulled back Scamp just short of where the ferry docked.
“You don’t smell it, either.” Sam seemed distracted by the ferry getting closer.
He laughed. “Jackass.”
“I missed you too.”
Nick stopped smiling at his brother’s admission. “This doesn’t mean I’m going back to Oregon with you.”
“We’ll see.” Giving the ferryman the fee, Sam rode his horse onto the craft. Nick followed. After allowing a few others on board, the ferry lurched forward, carrying them to the south bank of the Missouri. The river flowed fast and deep under them. It took several minutes to cross the wide ribbon of water.
As they disembarked, Nick asked, “Where do you have them camped?”
“Near Wayne City landing, but we’ll need to stop by the saloon first.”
“My whisky wasn’t enough for you?”
“It was, but we need to meet a man there. He and his wife are going with us as a last minute addition. Bartlett’s his name. He wants help getting supplies.”
The traffic increased as they neared Independence Square. Blacksmiths’ hammers pinged, horses’ hooves clattered on the hard ground, and various wagons rattled past. All the noise was giving Nick a headache. “He can’t do it himself? Can’t his wife help him?”
Once in front of the saloon, Sam slid down from his horse. “I suppose not. Besides, help them now and they’ll live to see Oregon.”
Chuckling, Nick also dismounted. “Can’t argue with that.” He followed his brother, tying both horses to the hitch. Creaks of the steps sounded as Sam stepped up and onto the boardwalk then disappeared into the saloon. Nick double-checked the tied animals then turned toward the saloon himself. A woman sat on a bench outside, looking down at her needlework of some sort. She glanced up at him with the first creak his boot made on the wood.
Her clear green eyes stopped him cold. Nick didn’t breathe, mesmerized by the vibrant color. He tipped his hat in an automatic greeting when she gave a little grin. Walking past her, he paused and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior of the saloon. Finding Sam, he went over to a table where his brother sat with another gentleman. They greeted him and he responded in a daze, still distracted by visions of the woman he’d seen outside. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he'd seen such a beautiful woman and had expected it to be even longer before he noticed or cared about a lady. It was as if her slight s
mile and sweet face had found his missing heart. After a few seconds of trying to listen to the intense conversation in front of him, he couldn’t sit there any longer. The lady out front might leave before he could learn anything more about her. He had to go to her. He nudged Sam and told him, “I need to go.”
“What, now? At least stay for another drink before going back home.”
Nick grinned at his brother’s obvious disappointment. “I’m not going far, just to the saloon’s front doors.”
“Does that mean you’re sticking around and going with us?”
“It depends. There’s someone I need to meet first, and I’ll want a change of clothes before going back to pack my things.”
Unexpected
“Did you meet Beth?” Samuel Granville brought Anne Galway’s hand to his lips. “She’s a lovely woman, albeit not as beautiful as you.”
Anne laughed. “Yes, I have, and you’re right. Nick did well in marrying her.”
“She didn’t do too shabby herself, marrying into the Granville family and all.”
“So I’ve been told.” She agreed Beth was lucky to be a Granville and she let Sam pull her into a hug, enjoying the strong feel of him. It had been far too long since they’d last been alone together. She wanted to enjoy every moment.
“When do we set the date for our own marriage? I’ve promised this is my last trip east unless you’re with me on our way to Europe.”
He’d been reading her mind, it seemed. She leaned back to smile at him. Anne resist teasing him a little. “Hmm, I’m not sure. How do you feel about a springtime wedding? Say, in May or June?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Anne kept a smile on her face while her heart sank. She marveled that he could wait until spring while Nick and new wife had married before reaching Oregon Territory. How had passion been given to one brother and not the other? “Very well. I’ll begin planning. I have plenty of time to change my mind a hundred times between now and then.”
The Oregon Trail Series Short Stories Page 1