Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Epilogue
Oregon Discovery
Trail of Hearts Book 4
Rachel Wesson
This story is dedicated with love to my dear friend, Nancy Cowan, who never fails to inspire me.
Contents
Character List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Epilogue
Historical Note
Acknowledgments
Also by Rachel Wesson
Character List
Hughes Homestead
Rick Hughes
Jo Hughes nee Thompson - his wife
Nancy & Lena Hughes - their six year old twins
Adopted three trail orphans
Sarah Hughes - 18 - Rick’s niece
Carrie Hughes - 14 - Rick’s niece
Almanzo Price - 18
Bridget Murphy - housekeeper
Jones Homestead
Scott Jones (former Boss of Wagon Train)
Becky Jones nee Thompson - his wife
Jake and Ruth - six year old twins
Nathan and Annie - three year old twins
Clarke Homestead
David Clarke
Eva Clarke nee Thompson - his wife
Patrick known as Pat - 7 1/2 years
Samuel known as Sam - 4 1/2 years
Thompson Homestead
Paddy Thompson
Della Thompson, his wife
Chapter 1
Oregon 1860
The sun was already hot despite it being early morning. Matilda Masterson, or Tilly as her friends called her, eased her feet into the sparkling cool water. It was decadent and delicious at the same time. She giggled as the small fish nibbled at her toes, imagining her deceased mother’s reaction to her eighteen-year-old daughter wading with her skirts tucked up around her knees, her bonnet, shoes, and stockings on the bank of the small river.
She looked over at her friend Fiona. She didn’t share Tilly’s reservations having been used to being barefoot until she joined the Masterson household at the age of fourteen. She grinned back at her mistress. “Feels heavenly doesn’t it?”
“Yes Fiona, I feel human again for the first time in ages. This was such a good idea.” Tilly bent down dipping her hanky in the water to wash her neck and face. She really wanted to strip down but they didn’t have time for that. They were late starting today due to having to fix a wagon axle which broke yesterday. The other women were doing some laundry further up the river near the campsite but Tilly had wanted it to just be the two of them. She had taken two horses, one for herself and one for Fiona, so they could ride back a little bit to the small sheltered creek. They were still within shouting distance of the camp, not far enough to cause alarm yet enough distance for her to spend time with Fiona in peace.
“Tilly, you can come help me do the laundry anytime you like,” Fiona replied grinning at her friend. “Just don’t tell Master Richard I was the one who suggested it.”
Tilly scowled. “Don’t ruin our morning by talking about him. Did you see him last night? He and father had some disagreement and he strutted off to his wagon. He looked like a cockerel only twice as nasty.”
Fiona grinned at the description. “Why were they arguing?”
“I have no idea. Father rarely talks to me anymore. Not that he ever told me anything he considered important. He believes women should look decorative. Our sole aim in life is to please our menfolk and produce an heir. Anything else is against God’s wishes.” Tilly’s face screwed up as she repeated what her father had drummed into her for as long as she could remember.
“I can't see why God would want you to marry someone nearly three times your age,” Fiona replied heatedly.
Tilly splashed her friend, “He’s old but he’s not over 50.”
“You sure about that? He acts older than your father and he’s ancient.”
“Fiona Murphy is that any way to speak to your employer?” Tilly asked in a voice reminiscent of her mother.
“Forgive me, Miss, it's my Irish temper. Always gets the better of me,” Fiona replied in a thick Irish accent making them both laugh. Tilly didn’t see Fiona as a servant but as an equal, a fact she had to hide from her father and her fiancé. Fiona Murphy was the only friend she’d ever known and she was so grateful the Irish girl had agreed to come on this godforsaken trip.
Tilly had no idea why they had to leave San Francisco and head to Oregon. Her father didn’t see fit to tell her. He expected total obedience and if he didn’t get it, she paid a heavy price as she had learned in the past. When she had refused to marry Richard, her parents had locked her in the attic. They told her she would get food and water when she came to her senses. If it hadn’t been for Fiona sneaking up water as often as she could, Tilly didn’t think she would have lived through that week. In the end, she hadn’t agreed to the engagement, but her mother’s sudden death meant her father had to produce her in public. Ironically, by dying her mother had done something to help Tilly for the first time in the young girl’s li
fe.
It wouldn’t be done for a Masterson to miss her Mother’s funeral. Her father had introduced Richard as her fiancé to all the mourners. Tilly was just as determined as ever not to marry the hideous man but she had yet to figure out a way out of her predicament. Running away, although attractive, wasn’t a practical option as Fiona so rightly pointed out. It was far too dangerous for two young women with no money. They had to think of another plan.
“Fiona, what do you think Portland will be like?”
“I have no idea, Tilly. Same as all the other places we’ve lived, I guess. One rule for the rich and another for the poor.”
“Fiona Murphy, how are you so cynical at such a young age?” Tilly was just about to splash her friend again when they heard what sounded like gunshots. Then a scream. Fiona pulled Tilly to the ground, half in and half out of the stream
“What was that?” Tilly’s voice quivered.
“Shush Tilly.”
Lying beside Fiona, she could feel her friend’s heart beating fast. Tilly raised her head to see if she could see anything but Fiona wasn’t taking any chances. She pulled her back down.
“We can’t be seen if we keep our heads down. The men will fight them off and then we can go back to the wagons,” Fiona said, her confident words not matching her trembling voice.
Tilly was shivering, the combination of fear and wet clothes wasn’t a good one. More gunshots and then the sound of horse hooves. She pushed Fiona to one side and risked taking a look over the ridge of the stream. She saw her father racing towards their spot. Before she could do or say anything, a shot rang out and he fell from his horse. The animal continued running but didn’t come anywhere near their hiding spot.
From this distance, Tilly couldn’t see if her father had survived or not but she saw a few riders circling the wagons, aiming their guns at the adults. Her heart beat so fast as she saw the people they had traveled with gunned down mercilessly. She couldn’t see any faces but the men shooting appeared to be Indians.
As she saw one racing after a child, she bowed her head. Fiona pulled her back down out of sight, the two of them cuddled together, both holding their hands over their ears. Each praying they would not be discovered. The noise of the attack grew louder. It seemed like another group of men on horseback had joined in. A couple more shots and then everything fell silent.
Tilly and Fiona lay still, too scared to risk looking up again.
“Do you think they will come looking for us?” Fiona asked.
“Father and Richard will find us when it’s safe. For now, we best stay here quietly.” Tilly whispered back to her friend. She wasn’t going to tell Fiona she’d seen her father shot. That news could come later.
She was trying to be brave for both of them given she was a year older than Fiona. She was also Fiona’s employer and her mother had lectured her for years of the importance of being a good mistress. Although her mother had taken the view servants needed to be kept in their place and not given expectations beyond their station in life, Tilly preferred to think her mother would have expected her to protect Fiona.
The sun rose higher in the sky. Where they were afforded them little protection. Tilly regretted taking off her bonnet. The sun's rays combined with thirst were making her feel lightheaded. Fiona had closed her eyes but whether she was sleeping or had passed out, Tilly wasn't sure. She moved slightly closer to her friend, intending to check on her when she sensed something behind her. She turned to look. The last thing she saw was buckskin before she passed out.
Chapter 2
Hughes Homestead, Portland Oregon.
“Rick Hughes, please listen to me and go to the doctor, I’m worried about you,” Jo said, kissing her husband on the cheek. Rick didn’t get a chance to answer as someone knocked on the front door.
“Sarah, can you get the door please,” Jo asked her adopted daughter.
“Yes Ma,” Sarah said smiling nervously. She knew Edwin was calling to see her Pa. She wished now she had a chance to warn Rick and Jo about the purpose of Edwin’s visit but maybe it was best coming as a surprise. Rick and Jo disliked Edwin’s parents intensely and believed Edwin shared his parents’ bigoted opinions. The Morgans didn’t agree with equality and had made it known they thought all Blacks should be kept as slaves. Mr. Morgan regularly disagreed with the contents of Uncle David’s writing column and he believed Uncle Scott was at the least part Indian. While it was true Scott Jones had lived with Paco’s tribe prior to becoming a wagon train leader, he was fully white. The tribe had rescued Scott as a child and raised him in their ways. Unlike the Morgans, Paco and his tribe were welcome and called regularly to see Rick, Jo, their twins, Nancy and Lena as well as Carrie and herself. Almanzo’s best friend was Paco’s son, Walking Tall.
Sarah opened the door, kissed Edwin on the cheek and led him in to her pa’s small study. She wanted to say something to encourage him but couldn’t think of anything appropriate.
Edwin Morgan played with his hat, his flushed cheeks marking his embarrassment. "Mr. Hughes, could I see you in private please?"
Sarah watched Rick closely as he smiled at Edwin, obviously attempting to put him at ease, although his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Rick might not like Edwin or any of the rest of the Morgan family but he wouldn’t be rude.
"You best let Jo stay, she's the real boss in this house,” Rick replied.
Sarah caught the tender look her Pa sent Jo. Please say yes, Pa, she muttered to herself as Jo spoke, “Almanzo, Sarah please leave us in private.
Sarah threw an encouraging look to Edwin but he was staring at the ground so hard, he missed it. Reluctantly she followed Almanzo out of the room.
"What's that all about, Sassy?"
"Stop calling me Sassy. I'm not a child anymore," Sarah said heatedly avoiding Almanzo’s question. She hadn’t even told Carrie her sister, that Edwin was going to propose. She hated the nickname Paco had given her. The Indian had said she needed to be more respectful to her elders. She disagreed.
"No, I guess you're not. Michael Nolan called you a spinster the other day." Almanzo said.
"Is that why you punched him?" Sarah asked, the drama taking place between her parents and Edwin momentarily forgotten.
"Heck no. I punched him because he was cheating at cards."
"Almanzo Price, if Pa hears you were playing cards again, he is going to tan your hide."
"Rick isn't going to hear, though is he? No-one is going to tell him. It's not like we are gambling. Not really. It's only a bit of fun." Almanzo shrugged.
"Wait till Mrs. Porter or Mrs. Nolan hears about your bit of fun. Then there'll be trouble," Sarah said knowingly. She had been on the wrong side of Mrs. Porter’s vicious tongue on more than one occasion.
“Mrs. Nolan wouldn’t say anything bad about her son. She thinks he walks on water. Anyway, if you live your life according to those old ladies, you will never do anything. They spend their lives confessing imagined sins to the priest. I think it’s so they can listen in on other people’s confessions.”
“Almanzo Price. That’s a dreadful thing to say. You better not let Rick or Jo hear you talk like that.”
“They won’t. I have to go to town. See you later and try not to upset Rick and Jo too much,” Almanzo said but Sarah wasn’t listening.
Sarah fought hard against the urge to listen at the door. Edwin’s father and Rick had got into a huge argument last year over Oregon joining the Union. Mr. Morgan, a vocal supporter of slavery had argued against Oregon joining the Union last year. Rick had called him a bigot amongst other things but only after Mr. Morgan had started abusing the extended Thompson family. It was funny how Jo and her sisters were still known as the Thompson girls even though they had adopted their husband’s surnames. Maybe it was because grandma Della was such a forceful character. Sarah was glad Della wasn’t here visiting or she would be listening to a lecture on the evils of the Morgan family.
Edwin wasn’t like his father. At least she didn’
t think he was. They didn’t spend much time talking about politics or stuff like that. She couldn’t think of anything else but Edwin when he was near her. He was so handsome now he had developed muscles from mining every day. His hair was longer. She loved the feel of it on her fingers as she massaged his scalp.
His kisses made her blood sing. It was getting harder not to take things further.
They had agreed not to talk about the Indian situation. Edwin got annoyed with Sarah’s loyalty to Paco and his tribe. He was jealous about her friendship with Walking Tall even though she’d reassured him, Walking Tall was a friend who happened to be happily married. Almanzo and Walking Tall spent a lot of time together over the years so she knew the Indian almost as well as her adoptive brother.
She didn’t want to think about Edwin’s dislike of her friends. When she was with Edwin and he was kissing her and telling her how beautiful she was, none of that mattered. He had been back in town two months now and they had spent every second they could alone. They hadn’t done anything too bad but she knew Jo wouldn’t be pleased if she knew how far Sarah had let things go.
The door to Pa's study opened. Edwin marched past, his face like thunder. Picking up her skirts, Sarah ran after him as he stormed out the front door.
Oregon Discovery Page 1
