Oregon Destiny

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Oregon Destiny Page 9

by Rachel Wesson


  Although David’s story was tragic, it wasn’t the same. Mitchell had killed white emigrants on a wagon train just like the one his white family had been murdered on. Then as a direct result of his actions, he’d lost his Indian family. Two families, two chances of happiness gone because of one man. “It’s not the same. What if someone killed Eva?”

  “I would want to kill them…maybe I would in the heat of the moment. But I wouldn’t plan their death, not years later.” David paused before saying quietly, “at least that’s what I hope I would do. It’s something I would rather not think about.”

  David turned back toward the wagon train leaving Scott alone with his thoughts.

  Scott rode back into camp, his belly rumbling with hunger. They would be in Oregon in three weeks at the most. He hoped and prayed the worst of their trials were behind them. He wanted everyone in the group to complete the journey safely.

  He caught sight of Becky walking toward her parents. The pants she wore did nothing to hide her curves. In fact, they had the opposite effect. He dismounted, his thoughts making his position uncomfortable. He should head to the stream to cool off. First, he wanted to make sure his horse was properly looked after. Almanzo usually fed him and brushed him down. Since being at the Indian camp, it was almost impossible to separate the boy from the horses.

  Chapter 36

  He wandered around the camp checking on everyone as was his habit. Nobody was ill and most were well-prepared for the trek ahead. He heard raised voices coming from Becky's family so he walked toward the noise.

  “Sit down, Rebecca Thompson, and listen to me.”

  “No, Pa, I don’t want to hear it. You're wrong,” Becky said, her clear voice carrying in the wind.

  “I am your father and you will listen.”

  Scott winced at his tone. He wondered what Becky had done now to upset her pa. He didn’t want to interrupt but that meant staying in the shadows. He didn’t feel right eavesdropping on a private conversation. He was about to leave.

  “Scott is a decent man. Surely you can see past everything else.”

  “I didn’t say he wasn’t decent. I said he wasn’t a suitable match for a well brought up young lady. You can aim much higher than an orphan raised by Indians.”

  “It wasn’t his fault. How can you blame him for what happened years ago?” Becky’s tone should have warned her Pa, she was in a right temper. “And as for being brought up by Indians, they taught him well. How many times has he used those skills to help us?”

  “Your pa is right, Becky. Captain Jones isn’t the right man for you. For one thing, he is too old.”

  “Old. He is only twenty-seven. Ten years older than me. I love him, Ma. I can’t live without him.”

  “Now you are being dramatic. You barely know him. There are plenty of suitable young men living in Oregon.”

  “How do you know that? You haven’t been to Oregon. Anyway, I don’t want a suitable young man. I want Scott,” Becky insisted.

  Scott’s heart rose in his chest. She really did love him. Despite his background, his status as an orphan, his unusual upbringing. None of it mattered to her. She was fighting for the both of them. What was he doing? Was he putting her first? He didn’t want to answer that question. He wanted to leave but he had to hear what her parents said despite himself.

  “Stop that this instant. You will do as you are told. Now go to bed.”

  “I am not a child, Pa. I won't give up on Scott. I don’t care what you think.”

  Scott's heart was beating so loudly he thought they might hear him. It hurt to think a man like Thompson would hold his past against him. But then he had said similar things when the group was discussing whether to keep him in charge or not over Mitchell.

  He walked away slowly, fighting the urge to grab Becky and race away into the sunset. Just the two of them. To go somewhere nobody knew either of them. They could be happy together. If they were given a chance.

  He loved her already but hearing her profess her love for him tore his heart apart. But he couldn’t fight for them. Not with Mitchell still a free man. It wasn’t just because of what the man had done to his Indian family. Becky would never be safe with him alive. Mitchell knew him. He would know to attack Becky would be the way to inflict the most pain possible. No, he had to leave her be for her own sake. But he couldn’t ever explain that to her. She was so feisty and stubborn, she would insist on being together regardless of the risk Mitchell posed.

  Chapter 37

  Scott didn’t see Becky after her argument with her parents. He didn’t purposefully avoid her but the terrain became more difficult.

  Everyone had their faces covered with a cloth of some sort. The dust was very fine and troublesome. The ground was difficult for the oxen as there were many deep holes which were almost impossible to fully avoid. Those who could walk did so to help reduce the burden on the oxen. Everyone was exhausted but nobody whined. They didn’t have the energy.

  “Do you think we will see water soon, Jo?”

  “I guess we will, Sarah. There is grass ahead and where grass grows, there has to be water.”

  “I hope it doesn’t smell as bad as it did last night. The stench reminded me of the outhouse at our old school.”

  Johanna smiled at the younger girl's reminiscences. The smell from the sulphur springs had been horrendous and caused more than one person to be off their food. But at the moment, they couldn’t afford to be too choosy. Water was scarce. She knew her pa was getting anxious about his cattle as were the other men in the group. The women were worried about the children. Her ma had given up trying to keep clothes clean.

  Fort Boise had been such a disappointment. The only things for sale seemed to be sugar and tobacco, neither of which would help nourish them or build up their strength for the weeks ahead. Rick had said Captain Jones hoped to be able to trade with some Indians for fresh fish. It would make a welcome change to their diet of bacon and beans. They were all fed up eating the salty meat but particularly now when water was so hard to come by.

  Johanna glanced over at Becky who was riding for a change. She was still dressed in Joey Freeman's clothes having won the battle with their ma. The pants were much more suited to traveling. Johanna wondered what Rick would say if she started wearing them. She was worried about Becky and it had nothing to do with the water or food situation. Her sister's eyes had lost their joy in life. She was very quiet too. Johanna smiled as she remembered how often she had wished Becky to stop talking and settle down, but now she had, she didn’t like it. Something had happened between her and Captain Jones. He grew moodier by the day. She wanted to ask but something about her twin prevented her initiating such a private conversation. Instead, she decided to speak to Eva. Maybe David knew something. He had become quite friendly with Jones.

  “Are you all right, Jo? You keep frowning.”

  “Sorry, Sarah. I'm fine. Just thinking that’s all.” She smiled down at the ten-year-old who had now fully recovered from her illness. She smiled much more than she had done. She no longer trailed after Rick either. Now she was convinced he wasn’t going to abandon her and her sister, Carrie, she was happy to let him out of her sight. She kept quite close to Johanna, though, but that was on Rick's instructions. The trail through the hills had many hidden hazards and he didn’t want the girls venturing far alone.

  Rick and the girls ate at Ma's campfire every night. Johanna was glad her fiancé and father were getting on so well but she missed the companionship they had shared when she had been helping Sarah cook. Now they seldom got a moment alone. She looked up at the mountain in front of them. They had to cross that and then they would be in Oregon territory. They were almost at the end of their trail.

  Chapter 38

  “The track is very winding isn’t it Becky? I don’t know how you can handle the wagon.”

  “Plenty of practice, Ma,”she said feigning confidence she didn’t feel. She knew her ma was worried about their provisions and the weather. Sh
e wasn’t about to add to her concerns.

  They traveled slowly through the winding rocky ravine. Becky didn’t look to her left or right but kept her focus on the oxen in front of her. She couldn’t think of anything but getting out of these mountains.

  David was in charge of the train today as Scott had gone ahead. Becky couldn’t help but be glad he was gone, seeing him every day just punctured her heart a little more. But at the same time, she was worried about him scouting on his own. What if he met Mitchell? There would be nobody to help him. To her surprise the camping area David had chosen was covered in good grass. There was also fresh water. They couldn’t ask for more. Ma cooked breakfast. She was better at stretching the rations than anyone else.

  Becky helped her pa with the animals. Stephen had run off and couldn’t be found but they weren’t worried. Her little brother always disappeared when there were chores to be done. He would come back when the food was dished up. His stomach wouldn’t let him miss a meal.

  “Becky, why don’t you take a nap in the back of the wagon. David wants to check some of the wagons and your ma is cooking. You look done in, girl.”

  “Thanks Pa.”

  Becky climbed wearily into the back of the wagon and lay down but it was no use. She couldn’t sleep because her dreams were consumed by Scott. In the good ones, Becky dreamed Mitchell just showed up one day, all alone. He and Scott fought it out. Scott won and they were finally free. She didn’t want to think of the nightmares where Mitchell killed Scott. Losing him, even in her dreams, was too painful to contemplate.

  She had barely shut her eyes when she was called for breakfast. David told them they expected to reach the banks of the Colombia river by the afternoon. They would wait there for Captain Jones to come back.

  David Clarke gathered the group together to discuss the best route forward. Captain Jones had explained the options and pros and cons of each before he went ahead to get more information.

  “The best way through is over the mountain. Barlow has gone but his toll road is still open. The alternative is to go down the Columbia River but I don’t like that option. For one, there is a backlog of wagons waiting to travel. It will take at least ten days to clear it.” David looked at his father-in-law. “Secondly, I think you have too many cattle to risk it. The mountain route should be safer.”

  “How much does it cost?”

  “Used to be five dollars per wagon and ten cents for each head of horned cattle, mule or ox. Captain Jones has gone ahead to see if he can negotiate a lower cost.”

  “Hope so, or I might just have to slaughter all my cattle here. I can't afford those rates.”

  “Pa! You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “Course he wouldn't, Johanna, he's just complaining about money. Your pa was born worrying.” Della stroked the arm of her husband letting everyone know she was trying to ease his worries rather than add to them. The fact they were arriving in the winter months was causing concern for everyone. They had to make sure they had sufficient money and provisions to last until they could start reaping their crops next summer.

  Captain Jones returned having agreed to a special deal with the operators of the toll gate.

  “It will still make a dent in your resources but it is the best I could do.”

  “Appreciate your efforts, Captain Jones.”

  Becky saw the look of surprise closely followed by pleasure on Scott's face. He wasn’t as immune to people's opinions of him as he let on. It bothered him her pa seemed to hold his past against him.

  She wanted to go to him, to tell him it didn’t matter but she couldn’t. He had made it quite clear he didn’t see a future with her.

  She turned back to the task in hand. Her ma had used the chance to catch up on some chores, and it was Becky's job to restock the wagon after the meal. Their provisions were quite low, but they were hopeful with good management they would last until they got to Oregon. She could scarcely believe the long trip was nearly over. It had only been five months but in ways it seemed so much longer.

  “Becky, can you drive the wagon?” Pa asked her. “I have to round-up the cattle and your ma is with Milly. Seems she has started having pains.”

  “Poor Milly. She was hoping the baby wouldn’t come till we arrived in Oregon.” Her pa didn’t respond having already walked away. Like most men, he stayed as far away from the business of birthing babies as he could.

  Becky climbed up into the wagon seat and gently drove out. Mr. Bradley was driving in front with Mr. Newland behind her. They kept a steady pace though the road wasn't great. She wondered what the toll gate owners did with the money they earned as it certainly wasn’t spent on road maintenance. Scott rode up beside her.

  “You all right? You look tired.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. So do you. I guess we all do.”

  He didn’t rise to her bait. He was so infuriating at times. But he did look exhausted. He couldn’t still be worried about Mitchell. If he had come after them, he would have done it ages ago. It was pointless taking extra risks attacking a wagon train so close to a big city.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “What?” he said.

  “Did you just ride up to tell me I looked tired?”

  He had the grace to blush slightly. “I was just checking up on you. Like I do with all the drivers.”

  “Sure, I bet you told Jessie he looked tired.”

  “Nah, Jessie has done this trip as many times as I have.We’ve worked together a long time. I know he is okay,” he said.

  She knew he was deliberately avoiding talking about them.

  She bit her tongue despite wanting to scream. After everything they had shared. She could play that game too.

  “Well, you best get on to check the others.”

  She was pleased to see the surprise in his face. She waited for him to argue with her but he didn’t. He just looked at her sadly before riding off.

  Chapter 39

  They traveled for hours not stopping to take a break. Becky guessed Scott was looking for good camping ground but wished he would hurry up. Her hands and shoulders were sore. She wondered how Milly was faring. Poor girl was probably terrified.

  Finally, she heard the bugle calling them to halt. The wagons didn’t circle, there wasn’t enough space. They parked where they could.

  “Thank you, Becky. You did a great job,” Ma praised her.

  “How's Milly?”

  Her ma tried to hide her concern but failed miserably.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like the fact her pains are so strong, yet she doesn’t seem to be in labor. I told her to rest and let us do her chores. You don’t mind helping out?”

  “Of course not, Ma. But how could she be in pain if she isn’t having her baby?”

  Becky knew about babies being born, she was the daughter of a farmer after all. But she had never been present when a baby was born.

  “Sometimes a woman has pains weeks before the baby comes. Its nature’s way of making her ready.”

  “You don’t think that is the case this time?”

  “I don’t know, Becky. I sure wish Ma Cleaver was here.”

  Becky screwed up her nose. She hadn’t liked the Virgil midwife. She was a cranky old woman who ordered everyone about. But she knew a lot about birthing.

  “What about Mrs. Newland? Can she help?”

  “Why didn’t I think of that. Good girl.”

  Becky wiped the spot on her forehead, her ma had just kissed. Surprised at the open display of affection—rare in her ma—she went about her chores smiling.

  The next morning, they traveled toward the Deshutes of Falls river, a stream about one hundred and fifty yards in width. It was fast flowing so they took advantage of the ferry service provided by some Indians. This time, Captain Jones didn’t know them nor did he make any attempt to speak to them.

  “Why isn’t he trying to speak to them, David?”

  “He says he is not sure whether they f
avor white people.”

  ‘But they are ferrying people across the river.”

  “They can take our dollars without having to like us Becky.”

  Becky supposed that was true. Once they had crossed the river, they had to travel up a long, fairly rocky hill.

  “I don’t like it Becky, it’s too steep.”

  “Milly, you will be fine. Stop worrying,” Becky said all the time thinking you might as well tell a river to stop flowing. Milly would be worrying until her baby came. Maybe it wouldn’t stop then.

  At five mile creek they spotted Mt. Jefferson for the first time. “Seeing Mt Jefferson is making me feel so close.” Ma wiped her eyes with her skirt. “After everything we have been through we are nearly there. Our new home is just waiting for us.”

  Becky didn’t respond. Her ma knew the mountainous terrain separating them from their new home included the infamous Laurel Hill. Everyone on the train including the children knew of this hill, named after the trees that grew on it. Or tried to grow would be more accurate as it was so steep only the most hardy trees survived. All the guide books mentioned Laurel Hill and none for good reasons. It really couldn’t be as bad as they said it was. Could it?

  They traveled all day without water but nobody complained. There was little point. They knew they would get fresh water as soon as the scouts found a good source and not before.

 

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