Oregon Discovery

by Rachel Wesson

  His ma was crying at this point yet he still couldn’t open his arms and hold her close. He wanted to, God knows he did but he couldn’t bring himself to make that move. Instead, he watched her as she cried and when her tears stopped falling, he was still watching.

  “I was hurt bad. Really bad. Then the Indians came and I was terrified. Price had filled both our heads with so much hatred for these people. I thought they would scalp me there and then. Instead, they took me to their camp. Their medicine man worked on healing my wounds. In time the wounds faded but the scars inside were still there.” She fell silent.

  “Then you met Brown Owl.”

  His ma nodded but the look of love followed quickly by loss on her face almost bowled him over. She had loved the Indian, just like the Chief said.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. He trying to absorb everything she had said, she trying to recover from opening her mind to the years of abuse she had sustained at the hands of his so-called father.

  He realized they both needed a little time. He was about to suggest he go and come back later when his ma asked him if he would like some breakfast. She seemed keen to share food with him so he agreed. She led him to her fire. He thought the child he had seen yesterday would be there but it was just the two of them. They ate in silence and then while drinking something which he didn’t recognize, she continued to speak.

  “Brown Owl was so gentle. He spoke a little English so could teach me some of his language. He taught me other things too, like how to dry meat and prepare food. He was so kind and generous. I told him about you and he told me your sprit would forgive me. It took some time but I grew to trust him. He never hurt me. In time, we had a child. Her name is Mia.”

  “My sister,” he stated, not in disbelief but in awe. He had always wanted a sibling. A real one. He loved his adoptive family, but this was different.

  “Yes, Almanzo. Mia is the reason I didn’t leave the tribe after Brown Owl died. I couldn’t bring her back to my parents. They were angry enough at my getting pregnant with Sam’s baby. They would be horrified at the thought of an Indian granddaughter.”

  Almanzo didn’t comment. He knew there weren’t many places in the USA where a half breed child would be made welcome. Instead, he focused on his real father.

  “Sam? My real father’s name was Sam?”

  “Yes. He was a kind man. Very like Brown Owl. He was Price’s first victim.”

  Almanzo sputtered and coughed as his drink got caught in his throat. “You married my father’s killer?”

  Chapter 14

  Hughes Homestead

  Jo walked back and forward, her eyes staring across the horizon willing her son, Almanzo, home. Was he hurt? She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him too.

  Rick was in town with Doc White. The kindly doctor had insisted Jo go home, saying she needed some rest. She guessed he was trying to protect her a little from the news the tests may reveal.

  She heard the door open behind her.

  “Come in and have some breakfast, Miss Johanna. You need something to eat.”

  “No thank you, Bridget. I couldn’t.”

  “Now Miss Johanna I ain’t asking you. I’m tellin’ ye to get your backside on the chair and eat. I have enough to be doin’ with worrin’ over Miss Sarah and Mr. Almanzo and now Mr. Rick. I don’t need no more troubles.”

  Jo smiled weakly at her housekeeper who was so much more. She knew the woman was just as concerned as she was. She loved the family almost as much as Jo did, considering them a replacement for the family Bridget never got to have. She put her fears into words. “I don’t know how to contact Sarah. I mean if Doc White says I should. What will I do?” Jo asked the tears not far from her eyes.

  Bridget gave her a quick hug. “Nothing you can do Miss Johanna. But don’t start thinking like that. Doc White will be able to help Mr. Rick and he will be home soon.”

  Jo saw Bridget’s fingers were crossed. She didn’t believe Rick was going to recover either. Jo’s frustration needed an outlet.

  “Oh Bridget, how could she do this to us? Why couldn’t she have waited?”

  Bridget’s face darkened as she scowled. “Miss Sarah, I love the bones of her but she has a selfish streak a mile wide. You and Mr. Rick were the best parents you could be but she is just so stubborn.” Bridget took a deep breath before continuing, “She will learn, Miss Johanna.”

  Johanna stared out onto the horizon wondering where Sarah was. Had she regretted her decision to elope? Was Edwin treating her kindly?

  “Yes Bridget but not before she is badly hurt. I dread to think of how she is going to feel when she starts seeing Edwin Morgan for the man he really is.”

  “She is going to feel like a fool, just like I did.” Bridget’s voice shook. “Still there is no point in worryin’ about her now. She made her bed. She is lucky though. You and Mr. Rick will take her in if she comes home.”

  “If…” Jo couldn’t continue. She didn’t want Sarah to be hurt by anyone yet if the girl stood in front of her, she would be hard pushed not to slap her.

  “Come on inside Miss Johanna. Won’t do Master Rick any good to be worrin’ about you and all. Miss Della has everything running ship shape.”

  Jo looked at Bridget and giggled at the expression on her housekeeper’s face. Once she started she couldn’t stop. She knew her ma drove Bridget nuts, especially when she started cleaning Bridget’s pristine kitchen. Bridget stared at her before she too dissolved into laughter. “Oh Miss Johanna, I swear I will have to do penance when the priest gets here. I love your ma but she needs to be banned from my kitchen or she may end up in the stove!”

  Jo linked arms with Bridget thanking God once again for sending this lovely woman to live with them. She took one last look at the horizon.

  “Don’t fret Miss Johanna. Walking Tall and the others won’t let anything happen to Almanzo. That boy be home soon, just you wait and see.”

  “How will he take the news about Sarah?”

  “You mean because he loves her? I think he will want to thrash her backside and maybe punch Edwin and all. It may make him realize she is not the woman for him. She is his sister, maybe not through blood but sister still the same.” Bridget sighed. “Miss Sarah ain’t the right woman for Almanzo. She never was.”

  Jo stared at Bridget who once again proved she knew the family better than anyone. The Irish woman’s accent and Irish way of saying things came out stronger when she was upset or angry.

  “Maybe Almanzo will come back with an Indian bride. That would give the townsfolk something to talk about eh? Can you see Mrs. Morgan’s face if she was to find out Miss Sarah had an Indian for a sister in law?”

  Jo let her housekeeper lead her into the house praying Almanzo would return safely and soon. She didn’t care who came back with him so long as her son was home.

  Chapter 15

  Indian Camp

  Almanzo stared at his ma, fighting the urge to pinch himself to make sure this wasn’t some nightmare. How could she have married his real pa’s murderer?

  “I thought your father had died in an accident. It was only years later, I found out the truth. Then it was too late. I was married to Price. As you know, there are few options for women who divorce their husbands. He kept telling me he would put me in a lunatic’s asylum if I tried to do anything. He would keep you.”

  “So you stayed,” he said bitterly even though he knew she was right. She hadn’t much of a choice. He was torn between feeling pity for her, for the years of abuse she had suffered and anger at what her choices had meant for him.

  She turned to him, taking one hand and using the other to turn his face to make him look at her.

  “I had to,” she said desperately. “Don’t you see. I had to protect you. He used to beat you so badly.”

  She was begging him to understand. He didn’t want to show her he did yet he was only hurting both of them. She had suffered enough. She didn’t need his anger now.

&n
bsp; “I remember you standing between us. You tried to protect me,” he acknowledged.

  “I didn’t try hard enough. I will never forgive myself for what I allowed happen. When I saw you yesterday, I nearly died. I couldn’t believe my eyes. But I should have left you believing I was dead,” she murmured taking her hands away from him. As soon as she broke contact, he missed her touch.

  “Why? I don’t want you dead,” he said automatically but realizing he meant what he was saying. “I don’t. Truly.”

  She gazed at him again with sadness this time. “It would be easier for you if I were dead. You would not have to bear the shame of a mother who lived with Indians, who bore him a child.”

  “Ma, my best friend is Walking Tall, the Indian I rode in with.”

  “Did he rescue you? How were you found? Where have you been living all these years? With the Indians? Have you seen Price? I used to have nightmares he found you.” Her questions tripped off her tongue one after the other as if she had been waiting years to know the answers.

  “Steady Ma, I can’t answer your questions if you keep asking the next one.”

  She smiled and his heart pounded. It was his ma. His ma who had protected him, made him cakes, bought him candy whenever she could. His ma who had stayed up late, sponging him down and putting ointment on his cuts after a beating. This woman who had taken the blame for anything and everything he did as a child. The time he had gone fishing and forgotten to chop the wood. Or when he was held back in school and didn’t get his chores finished. Suddenly his mind was flooded with images of how many times his ma had helped him, looked after him and done everything she could to take the beatings meant for him. He didn’t think about the years he had spent hating her for abandoning him and the guilt at wanting to love the woman who had left him to die. He looked at her and broke down crying. She moved quickly and he found himself hugging her as if he would never let her go. She was doing the same to him. They stayed like that for what seemed like ages, her tears mixing with his. He realized she was saying she was sorry repeatedly. Whispering it into his hair.

  “Ma, stop it. You didn't have a choice. You probably saved my life. Thank you. I am so glad I found you. Now you can come home with…” He stopped as her arms fell to her side and she broke contact. No, he wanted to shout. Don’t stop holding me. I need you. Instead, he said, “I can’t leave you here. You and Mia can come home with me. Rick and Jo will welcome you.”

  “We cannot leave. You know how they will treat your sister. I cannot do that to her. The Braves here accept her. She will marry one day, have a family of her own.”

  “Ma she might not get that chance.” Quickly he told her the reason why he had come to the camp and the mood Harvey and his friends were stoking up in town. “They want the land to be free of Indians. All of them, no matter what their ages or sex.”

  His ma paled but then she looked stronger. “We will move to the reservation with the rest of the tribe.”

  “I don’t think your Chief will allow that to happen. He said he was keeping the girls unless a promise was made to respect the treaty,” Almanzo spoke quickly. He felt the time slipping away and he had to save his ma. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t lose her again.

  “That’s never going to happen. Nobody respects that treaty.”

  “I know that Ma and I suspect your Chief does too. But what’s the alternative?” Almanzo forced himself to speak gently when all the while he wanted to grab her and run to safety. “The reservation is miles away. The land is poor, there are no buffalo to hunt, nothing grows. If he moves there he is condemning his people to starvation.”

  “If the tribe stays, they will be slaughtered.” Her matter of fact acceptance of being murdered made him see how different their lives were now. She was a white woman. She could save herself and maybe her child too.

  “Walking Tall and I are here to try to stop that happening. We want to convince the Chief to let us take the white women to town. There they can tell the sheriff what happened. Maybe it was Harvey and his friends who attacked the wagon train.”

  “Who is Harvey?” she asked.

  “George Harvey.” Almanzo almost spat the name out. “He is the son of a very wealthy man who has made a rather big name for himself in Portland. He owns a lot of land and businesses. A lot of people work for him, one way or another. He hates everyone but especially Indians and blacks. He is a fan of slavery and would move all Indians into the ocean never mind a reservation if he thought he could get away with it.” Almanzo took a deep breath before adding, “unfortunately usually he can break the law as he has never been caught red handed.”

  “This Harvey sounds like Price, well aside from his money. He is full of hate. I wonder what happened to him to make him that way.”

  Almanzo was surprised to hear her reaction. He had never thought about Harvey being a victim of anything. He didn’t want to either. As far as he was concerned, Harvey was a blight on society.

  “He reminds me of Pa, I meant Mr. Price but he is worse. He is wealthy which means his words carry more weight. Also, he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, not unless he can’t be tried for his crimes. If he wanted white folks killed, he would pay someone else. He likes to kill Indians though. He knows he won’t have to face a jury.” Almanzo didn’t want to think of what Harvey would do if he found out about his ma and Mia. “Ma, Price is dead.”

  His ma paled, her hands shaking as she asked, “he came for you?”

  “Not for me,”Almanzo said bitterly. He explained how the gang had kidnapped Becky leading to Scott rescuing her. “All the would be kidnappers were killed, including Price.”

  “God forgive me but I am glad. He can’t never hurt you again,”she said. “I will speak to the Chief. He sometimes listens to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Brown Owl was his son.”

  Chapter 16

  Indian Camp

  Tilly and Fiona sat in the lodge whispering. Broken Wing had unbound Tilly’s hands telling her she would have to put the binds back on when they went outside.

  Then she had shown them how to do some beading. Fiona was better at it than Tilly but neither showed much talent. Tilly suspected Broken Wing was simply trying to occupy their time until they could leave. The hours passed by so slowly.

  “Tilly, what will you do when we get out of here?”

  Tilly looked up from her work at Fiona’s question. She wasn’t sure how to answer. What could she say?

  “If your father survived, you will marry Richard. But, well, will you marry Richard if your father is dead?”

  Tilly had told Fiona about seeing her father shot and falling off his horse.

  “No.” Tilly shuddered. “I am not going to marry that man regardless of whether Father is alive or not.”

  “But how will you break off the engagement? Can’t he force you to get married?”

  Tilly didn’t know what her rights were under the law. She doubted she had many but hopefully she was allowed to marry a man of her own choosing. She was almost 18 years old.

  “I may have to see a lawyer. But hopefully, Richard will have changed his mind.”

  “Why would he do that? Cook said he loves you.”

  Tilly stared at Fiona in shock. “Love? Cook must have been drinking again. Richard doesn’t know the meaning of the word love. He wants to marry me for whatever money and property he thinks my father has. Nothing to do with me.”

  “Very important woman marry right man. Make everyone happier.”

  Tilly nearly fell over as Walking Tall stood in the lodge entrance. He didn’t make any attempt to come inside. She guessed it was because they were not chaperoned by Broken Wing. Their minder had gone out earlier and yet to return.

  “You shouldn’t listen to private conversations. It’s rude,” Tilly responded crossly, wondering how much he had heard and understood.

  “Then you shouldn’t speak so loudly Fire Daughter. The whole camp can hear you.”

  Tilly wanted to st
ick her tongue out at the Indian. He was always teasing her. She looked at Fiona but Fiona’s whole attention was focused on Walking Tall. If she didn’t know better, she would think Fiona fancied herself in love with this savage. Only he wasn’t a savage was he? He had been nothing but kind since the first day they met.

  “You marry Al. He would make fine husband. Give you strong babies.”

  Tilly flushed furiously torn between the desire to run away from the conversation and the need to know more. Did Almanzo not already have a girlfriend? Surely the women were queuing up to marry him. He was tall, broad shouldered, kind and made her laugh. He had a lovely face too, kind eyes and his lips. How would they feel if he kissed her?

  A girl couldn’t find much better. She felt Walking Tall accessing her. She looked into his eyes and saw he was smiling at her as if he could read her inner most thoughts. Her blush grew deeper.

  “You need lessons in how to speak to ladies,” she responded huffily.

  “Walking Tall doesn’t mean any disrespect. White men and women make it very difficult to have happy marriage. They should learn to live more freely.” With those words, Walking Tall turned and left leaving Tilly wondering why he had sought them out in the first place. Had he come to tell them they were free to leave but been distracted by their conversation?

  Fiona was still staring at the retreating figure. “He is so kind, isn’t he? He has a lovely smile.”

  “Fiona Murphy, he is an Indian, not a potential suitor.”

  At Tilly’s sharp tone, Fiona paled before turning on Tilly.

  “No need to remind me. I am not simple. You can be Indian and be kind you know,” Fiona said, her voice full of hurt.