by Stephen Bly
“Why are you changing the subject?”
“Because I want to take good care of you, and if you’re hurting, maybe there’s something I can do.”
Mrs. Barre managed a raspy whisper. “The pain I have never goes away, never dulls, never relents. It just numbs the mind and crushes the spirit.”
“Let me roll you on your side, Mama, and I’ll rub your back,” Lerryn offered.
“Thanks, darling, that would be wonderful. You take such good care of me.”
Lerryn turned to Retta and mouthed the words, “It’s all right now. ”
“I’m going to wear my buckskins,” Retta announced. Lerryn massaged Mrs. Barre’s back as Retta changed her clothes at the other end of the wagon. She pulled on the dress, smoothed it down, tugged on the moccasins, and then laced and tied them. She wiggled her toes against the smooth, soft leather.
She pulled the headband out of her valise and tied it around her forehead. The eagle feather swooped down across her left ear. She stood up, clutching her coup stick, when Mrs. Barre rolled over on her back.
With her chin tucked to her chest, Retta asked, “How do I look, Mama?”
“That’s a very nice costume, darlin’. Now you go on out and play with the other girls.”
Lerryn laid a finger over her mouth as a signal for Retta not to reply.
“Okay, Mama.” Retta glanced at her sister. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” she whispered.
A cool easterly wind whipped the tent flap as she climbed down. The dirt around the wagon was hard-packed and dry but not yet dusty. To the south of the wagon the wind pressed the brown buffalo grass flat. Retta stared out toward the animals. Andrew and William stood outside the rope corral, holding their horses.
She hiked out toward them.
“Li’l sis, you’re a purdy sight to see cornin’ through the prairie grass all decked out like an Indian,” William remarked.
“I feel like a little girl playing dress-up. Do you think I should put it away?”
“Nope. Coretta Emily, I suppose we all have to grow up fast enough. Enjoy bein’ twelve,” Andrew replied. “Seein’ you all suited up like that makes me smile.”
“And we surely need some smiles. How’s Mama?” William asked.
Retta dropped her head. “She’s still hurtin’ bad and sort of... says things she doesn’t mean or even remember saying.”
“She didn’t get mad at big sis again, did she?” William asked.
“No. She did get mad at Papa.”
Andrew rubbed dirt off his neck with a big red bandanna. “Why?”
“Well, she mentioned she wanted to taste something besides salted meat, and he went down to the river to hunt. Now she’s mad at him for going alone.”
“That ain’t Mama talkin’. She knows he can take care of himself,” William said.
Retta swung the coup stick back and forth by the wrist strap. “That’s what I told her. She said that he’s forsaken us out here.”
Andrew stared back at the covered wagon. “Hard to imagine Mama in that much pain.”
“I surely wish the Lord would answer our prayers.” She strolled over to the rope corral and surveyed the animals. “Did you know that Mrs. O’Day said she quit praying for Gilson because it didn’t do any good? I don’t think she should stop praying, do you?”
“To stop prayin’ is to stop talkin’ to the Lord. I don’t reckon that ever helped anyone,” William offered.
“It helped me when I stopped prayin’ for Rachel Lamont.” Andrew grinned.
“How did that help?” Retta asked.
Andrew laughed. “That’s when I met Laura Beth.”
Retta punched him in the arm. “Are you thinkin’ about Ohio?”
“I guess so. I don’t know why. Ohio is gone forever.”
“We won’t ever go back, will we?” she stated.
“Not until they get a railroad all the way to the Pacific,” William said.
“You think that will happen?”
“I hope it don’t happen soon. I kind of like the land empty,” William remarked.
“We lathered up our horses racin’. So we’re goin’ to take them over to the river to water ’em before evenin’ and then picket them close to the wagon. We can look for Papa while we’re down there,” Andrew offered.
William stepped up by her side. “You want one of us to stay here, li’l sis?”
Retta stared around the empty prairie. “There’s no one out here but us. Go on. We’ll be fine. The sooner Papa comes back, the sooner Mama can relax.”
“If Mama takes a bad spell, fire the shotgun. We’ll be here in ninety seconds,” William assured her.
“Where’s the shotgun?” she asked.
“Last time I saw it, it was down there by Grandma Carter’s cedar chest.”
“Will the oxen and cows be all right?” she asked.
“Yep. At least until they get thirsty,” Andrew replied.
“How about Papa’s horse?”
William glanced over at the dun gelding. “He’ll want to follow these two, I reckon. He doesn’t mix too good with the oxen and cows.”
“I can tether him to a wagon wheel. Can I brush him down?” she quizzed.
William grinned. “You’re goin’ to spoil ol’ Prince.”
“I have lots of time.”
William and Andrew pulled themselves up into their saddles. “Okay, li’l sis, you can pretend he’s your Indian pony. ”
“Can I draw war stripes on him?” she laughed.
“No,” Andrew hooted. “And you can’t make him into a chestnut and white pinto either.” He kicked his heels in the horse’s flanks, and both brothers raced toward the river.
Chapter Four
Retta led the tall dun gelding back to the wagon. Lerryn poked her head out the yellow flap at the back. “Are they goin’ to get Papa?”
“They’re goin’ to water the horses and then look for him. Is Mama still awake?”
“No. She went to sleep. Are you goin’ with them?” Lerryn asked.
“No. They just thought Prince would be more peaceful away from the oxen and cows.” Retta tied the horse to a wagon wheel. “Lerryn, is Mama still bleeding?”
“She wouldn’t let me check. She said Papa could do it when he got back.”
“Are you doin’ okay, sis?”
“Yeah, thanks. It really seems strange to peek out and not see any other wagons. And to see an Indian princess who looks very much like my sister.”
“Do you think this makes me look too much like a little girl?”
“Coretta Emily, that outfit makes you look as old as me.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Lerryn, that’s about the nicest thing you ever said to me in my life.” Retta curtseyed. “Thank you, Miss Barre. That’s very kind of you.”
“I’ll try not to do it too often,” Lerryn laughed. “What’s happened to us, li’l sis?”
Retta leaned against the wagon tailgate. “What do you mean?”
Lerryn tossed her head, and her blonde hair flopped from side to side. “For ten years we’ve been at each other most of the time. Then all at once...” She snapped her fingers. “... you seem like an important friend to me. Did you notice that?”
“Yes, I did,” Retta acknowledged. “It really hit home when...”
“Everyone drove off and left us?”
“It’s down to just you and me.”
“That’s what was strange for me,” Lerryn added. “Everyone left—even Brian—and it didn’t bother me nearly as much as the thought of the four of us being split up.”
“That would be intolerable, wouldn’t it?”
“Retta, I’m glad you’re my sister. I like it that you’re different from me.”
Retta grinned. “We certainly look different right now, I reckon. But to tell you the truth, if one has to look like an Indian princess and one like a wagon train queen, I wouldn’t mind being the queen.”
Retta brushed Prince’s head, shoulders, withers, and back, and then started on his sides and legs. His left rear hoof was lifted up slightly. She knew he was dozing. She was grooming his mane when she noticed his ears perk up. His head turned east.
“What is it, boy? Do you hear something?”
Retta looked eastward but saw nothing.
“Is Papa coming back with the boys?”
The horse continued to stare at the horizon until the top of a wood-paneled wagon came into view, still a mile off.
“Lerryn!” Retta called out.
Her sister poked her head out. “What is it?”
Retta pointed. “Look, we have company.”
“Is it the next wagon train?”
“It’s only one wagon. I don’t even see any outriders.”
“You think it’s some of those prairie pirates Colonel Graves warned us about?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“What shall we do, Retta?”
“Get the shotgun and stay in the wagon with Mama. William said if we need them in a hurry, we should fire the shotgun.”
“You want me to shoot it?”
“Not until we find out who they are.”
“Are we goin’ to let them ride right up here?”
“Nope. I’ll go out and talk to them.”
“Really?”
“Get the shotgun and watch me. Don’t fire unless you think you must,” Retta instructed.
“Do you know what you’re doing, li’l sis?”
“I guess so. I’ve been playing this part for days.”
Retta retied Prince to the wagon wheel and swapped the horse brush for the coup stick. She tramped straight toward the rattling, squeaking wagon.
A man with a thick, dark beard rode on the wheel mule. He carried a rifle across his lap. On the wagon seat sat two more men, both with unshaven faces hidden under wide felt hat brims. The side of the paneled wagon was faded, but the name “Missouri River Mill & Grinding” could still be read.
They kept coming toward Retta. When she got halfway between the covered wagon and the paneled wagon, she squatted down to scratch out a large pine tree in the prairie dirt.
The paneled wagon pulled up about fifty feet from her. One of the men on the wagon seat roared, “What’s that squaw want, Elmo?”
The man riding the driving mule replied, “Wants to palaver, I reckon.”
“Who’s goin’ to talk to her?” This voice sounded higher than the other two, but Retta didn’t look up.
“I don’t know no Injun talk. You go on out there, Davy,” Elmo hollered.
“Why don’t we just swing past ’em and trail the wagon train?” Davy suggested.
“’Cause there’s a horse and cows, and there’re supplies in that wagon. These Indians must have raided it.”
“I can tell you one thing.” The third man cleared his throat. “This squaw ain’t alone. So watch yourself.”
“You really want me to go out there?”
“Davy, you told us you could talk to the Indians.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Tell her she’s a good-lookin’ squaw, and you want to marry her,” Elmo replied.
“What?”
“The point is, she won’t understand nothin’. But maybe you can find out how many of them there are and where the men are. There’s only one horse that I can see.”
The man in the gray long-sleeved shirt and greasy striped trousers climbed down. He pushed his hat back and moseyed her way. Retta didn’t look up but continued to draw.
“Woman, I reckon I need to talk to your husband.”
“She looks young, Davy,” Elmo shouted. “Maybe she don’t have a husband.”
“All these heathen get married young,” Davy snorted. “Woman, I said, where is your man? Do you hear me?” Retta continued to draw.
“You got to squat to talk to them, Davy,” the third man called out.
“What do you mean, I got to squat?”
“They don’t talk unless you squat down there with them,” Elmo instructed.
“If you know so much, why don’t you come talk to her?”
“’Cause I’m the only one who has bullets left for his gun. I need to keep a good view of the prairie.”
“They don’t know I don’t have any bullets.”
“Squat down, Davy,” Elmo screamed.
Davy squatted on his haunches across from Retta.
She glanced up at him without showing any emotion, never looking in his eyes.
“Shoot, she’s a young one all right,” Davy shouted back.
“Don’t you go to smooth-talkin’ her,” Elmo instructed. “Find out where the men are.”
Davy cleared his throat. “You got a ... a husband around here, ma’am?”
“I thought you knew how to speak Indian,” the third man yelled from the wagon.
“I forgot some words,” Davy shouted back. Then he turned back to Retta. “Where’s your husband?”
Retta held up three fingers.
“Shoot, Elmo, she’s got three husbands.”
“Or her husband is three miles away.”
“Indians don’t know miles.”
“Well, maybe he’s three days away. If he’s three days away, she just might be lonely.” He reached over and touched his grimy fingers to her chin.
Retta swung the coup stick and crashed the fist-sized rock into the man’s toe.
Davy leaped up, grabbed his foot, and hopped across the prairie. “She done busted my toe. Shoot her!”
“I’m not wastin’ one of our last bullets,” Elmo replied. “You were the one stupid enough to touch that savage. You’re lucky she didn’t stick a knife in you.”
Davy limped back to the wagon. “Well, I ain’t goin’ to do no more negotiations. I say we just pick us out a nice cow for supper and drive on off. I reckon if we drive through the night, we can catch up with that wagon train. Pickin’s will be better there.”
“Ain’t we goin’ to look in this here wagon?” the third man called out.
“Nope,” Elmo declared from the back of the mule.
“You ain’t afraid of that squaw with a rock hammer are you?” the third man replied.
“Nope, but I do have respect for that shotgun that’s aimed out the back wagon flap,” Elmo remarked. “Let’s jist ride on around them.”
“I’m goin’ to cut me out a cow,” Davy fumed.
“Then do it on foot ’cause I ain’t bailin’ you out. If we use up our last bullets here, we don’t have any left for tomorrow. Next folks we rob have to have lead and a bullet mold, or we’re in big trouble.”
“She purt near broke my toe.”
“Well, that’s why they call them savages. You heard what happened to Moss Starkey.”
The wagon rattled north of the Barre covered wagon and kept going west. Retta waited until it disappeared over the rise and then sauntered back to the wagon.
Holding the shotgun, Lerryn stuck her head out. “I can’t believe you clobbered that guy in the toe and got away with it. I thought I’d have to shoot him for sure.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t clobber him in the head,” Retta mumbled. “What a jerk.”
The voice from inside the wagon was weak. “Shoot what, darlin’?”
Lerryn stuck her head back inside. “Shoot a ... eh, prairie pest, Mama.”
“A coyote?”
Retta climbed up and stuck her head inside the wagon. “More like a snake, Mama.”
“Oh, goodness, don’t get too close to snakes, Coretta Emily. You must try to stay away from dangerous situations.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lerryn, dear, how long have I been sleeping?”
“Off and on for about two days, Mama.”
“My word ... well, help me sit up, won’t you?” Lerryn scooted to her mother’s side. “Are you sure you feel like it?”
“Certainly. Sometimes I just need some sl
eep.”
Lerryn took hold of her mother’s hand. “Mama, I think you should take it easy.”
Retta watched as Lerryn gently raised Mrs. Barre.
“Oh dear, I am a little dizzy still. I’ll wait to cook supper until my head clears.”
“Mama, are you feeling better?” Retta asked.
“I believe I do need to take it easy.” She patted Lerryn’s hand. “I trust I didn’t act like a pill again.”
“Mama, you’re always the lady,” Lerryn assured her. “And you’re a beautiful, loyal daughter.”
“How about me, Mama?” Retta pressed.
“Oh, Coretta, you make my heart sing just to look at you in that—that outfit. The Lord has blessed me so abundantly with fine children. I’m a fortunate woman.”
“I can cook supper for us tonight,” Lerryn offered. “And I’ll help her, Mama. Let us do it,” Retta pleaded.
“Why don’t you leave me a basin of water so I can wash up.”
“Are you goin’ to be all right by yourself if we go cook?”
“Oh, darlin’, I trust so. I suppose you should cook a little of that dreadful salt pork. Did we have it for breakfast? Funny, I can’t remember breakfast. I don’t remember much of anything. When did the other wagons leave?”
“Yesterday morning, Mother,” Lerryn reported.
“Papa went to the river to hunt us some game. We’ll have fresh meat,” Retta said.
“He did? Oh that dear, dear, sweet Eugene. Girls, if you ever find a man like your Papa, you should marry him instantly.”
“But, Mama, I’m only twelve,” Retta objected.
Mrs. Barre studied her youngest daughter. “Li’l sis, you’ve grown up on this trip. I do believe you left Ohio a little girl and will arrive in Oregon a young lady. Of course, you might have to wear a different dress in Oregon.”
Lerryn stroked her mother’s arm. “You have a beautiful smile, Mama.”
“I love you, Mama,” Retta blurted out.
“You girls and your brothers know how special you are to me. I love you more dearly than anything on earth. Now how about helping me to my feet?” Mrs. Barre requested.
“Mama, I don’t think you should try to stand,” Lerryn cautioned.
“I’d like to try. The quicker I regain my strength, the sooner we’ll catch up with the others. Coretta Emily, come up here and help your sister pull me to my feet. Once I get the cobwebs out of my mind, I’ll do just fine.”
