“So what are we to do?” Clara wiped her hands on her apron.
“Just what we’re doing now.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Maybe I just needed to let off some steam.”
Clara slipped an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I don’t know that it makes any difference, but your father and I are very proud of how you’re handling this, Lizzie. Asa was just saying how this trip has shown him what fine children we have raised. The hardships seem to bring out the very best in both you and Matthew. We couldn’t be prouder.”
Elizabeth hugged her mother back. “So I guess we’ll just keep doing what the good book says then.”
“That would be…?”
“Live one day at a time. Like Jesus said, tomorrow has enough worries to take care of itself. No use fretting over it today.”
“How true.”
“Speaking of the future, I wonder when we’ll be able to cross the river.”
“You must have been tending to Mrs. Taylor…your father announced that Captain Brownlee told the councilmen that if we have two days in a row with no rain, we will probably attempt it.”
“It didn’t rain yesterday.” Elizabeth peered up at the clear blue sky. “And I don’t see any thunderclouds today.”
“Perhaps tomorrow.” Clara hung the damp dishtowel on a nail. “I must admit it’s been an unexpected luxury to have this break and to catch up on laundry and things. But already I’m itching to travel.”
Elizabeth smiled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How we’ve all gotten so accustomed to being on the road. What will we do when we reach our last stop in Oregon?”
“Get down on our knees and kiss the ground?”
Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed at the image of her mother kissing the ground.
“Sounds like someone is happy.”
They both turned to see Will Bramford and his two daughters approaching. They greeted them and were surprised to see that the girls wanted to share some wild strawberries with Mrs. Taylor. “We thought it might help to cheer her up,” Belinda said.
“What a lovely idea,” Clara told her.
“She’s in my wagon. Go ahead and take them to her,” Elizabeth encouraged them, lowering her voice. “She’s been a bit reclusive, but she might enjoy the company of you sweet young girls.”
Belinda and Amelia exchanged looks as if they were uncertain.
“Go on,” their father urged them. “Take your gift to Mrs. Taylor.”
As the giggling girls approached Elizabeth’s wagon, Clara excused herself to her own wagon, leaving Will and Elizabeth standing there.
“It must not be easy having Mrs. Taylor in your care,” Will began carefully. “How are you holding up?”
She untied her apron, hanging it up to dry. “I’m all right.”
“Have you spoken to your father about the legal issues facing Brady in Oregon?”
“I mentioned it to him.” She unrolled her sleeves, adjusted her skirt, and pushed the stray hairs from her face. She tried not to imagine her mother, who was probably listening attentively on the other side of the canvas.
Will gave her a sympathetic smile. “You look weary, Elizabeth.”
She frowned, unsure of how to respond to that.
“A pretty sort of weary,” he added cheerfully.
Now she felt her cheeks blushing, and tried to think of someplace to excuse herself to, but certainly not to her own wagon.
“I know of a beautiful spot by the river,” he said suddenly. “Quiet and serene…with wildflowers abounding. In fact, that’s where the girls found the strawberries yesterday. Would you like to take a walk there with me?”
The idea of a place like that was very enticing…and yet…she wondered what Eli would think if he saw her with Will. And then she wondered why she wondered that. What difference should it make? Besides, she still had some legal questions concerning Brady for him. Why not?
“Come with me, Elizabeth. I know you’d enjoy it.” He gave her a wide smile. “I’ve seen you and your family toiling so hard while others are enjoying a short holiday. I think you deserve some time off as well.”
She glanced over at where the girls were still standing by the tailgate of her wagon. Perhaps they had managed to engage Mrs. Taylor. And even if they hadn’t, she had no intention of spending such a glorious day cooped up with her. With resolution, she reached for her prairie bonnet.
“I do believe I will take you up on that offer.” Elizabeth called out to her mother now. “I’m going to walk down to the river with Mr. Bramford, Mother.”
“Have a lovely time, dear,” Clara called back.
Elizabeth did her best to make small talk with Will as they walked toward the river. At the same time, she tried to suppress the nagging concerns over what Eli or anyone else might think to see her out like this, alone in the company of a man. But being part of a wagon train seemed to break a lot of conventional rules. And after all, hadn’t her own mother sounded pleased to send her on her way? Besides, she reminded herself, Eli hadn’t been around to see her in days. In some ways she felt as if he were purposely ignoring her.
“Excuse me?”
She turned to see Will looking curiously at her.
“What?” She paused, trying to figure out what she had missed.
“You seem to be lost in your own thoughts.”
“Oh…” Her hand went to her mouth. “I’m sorry. Did you say something that I completely missed?”
He chuckled. “I know that we legal types have been known to put our listeners to sleep sometimes. At least that’s what my children say. But I must say it doesn’t usually happen while walking.”
“My apologies.” She focused her attention on tying her loose bonnet strings.
“You seem to have a lot on your mind, Elizabeth.”
She nodded. “I suppose I do.” Now to distract him from guessing what she’d really been daydreaming about, she brought up the subject of Mrs. Taylor, briefly explaining her dilemma. “It’s not that I would throw the poor woman out,” she said finally. “It’s just that I was unprepared for such a burden.” She sighed. “I have my children to think of, and then there’s Brady with this unfortunate legal news. And of course, I must stay focused on all that pertains to having a successful journey to Oregon.”
“You certainly have more than enough to occupy your thoughts.”
“I know we’re not supposed to fret about tomorrow…”
“According to whom?”
“The Bible, of course.”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“But it’s hard not to want to figure out a few things in advance.” She glanced at him, hoping for some wise counsel. “For instance, how long am I supposed to care for Mrs. Taylor? Should I encourage her to depart the wagon train at the next post? Will my family need to pay for her passage back to the East?”
He nodded, rubbing his chin as if taking this all in. “Good questions, all of them. First of all, I must ask why you are caring for Mrs. Taylor in the first place. She’s a grown woman. She chose to come on this journey. She stubbornly refused to part with her piano, which is greatly responsible for her husband’s untimely death. But none of that is your fault.”
She let out a long sigh of relief. “Yes, that’s how I feel too.”
“It was kind of you to take her in. But I do not see why you should hold yourself responsible for her indefinitely. Mrs. Taylor has shown herself to be a strong woman. If she plans to survive in the West, she will need to pull herself up and take charge of her own circumstances.”
“I agree. But at the same time, I realize that she is a widow who is still grieving the loss of her husband.”
“You and I both have some understanding of grief, Elizabeth. But I have found that the tighter one holds onto one’s grief, the longer it takes to get beyond it.”
She nodded, considering this. “Yes, but everyone is different when it comes to grieving. I’ve known those who remarry within six months of losing a spouse. Yet I only g
ave up wearing my widow’s weeds last winter—after three and a half years of being bereaved.”
“I suppose those who love deeply also grieve deeply.”
She wanted to ask how it had been for him, but that felt too personal. And it might give him the wrong impression of her interest.
“However, in the case of Mrs. Taylor…due to the circumstances of being halfway to Oregon, she lacks the luxury of being able to grieve at her own leisure.” He paused at the edge of a stream, offering her his hand as they balanced on the rocks to pass over it.
“This truly is beautiful out here,” she told him as she gazed out to the small green meadow they were approaching. As usual in these parts, there was an abundance of mosquitoes. She swatted them away as they walked. Fortunately they thinned out some when they reached the muddy river. “Oh, my. Do you think we’ll really be able to cross that tomorrow?”
“I hope so.” He pointed to a smooth large rock that jutted out over the fast-flowing water. “That’s my favorite place to sit and think.” He jumped onto it and then, for the second time, extended his hand, pulling her up to the top of the boulder.
Soon they were both settled on the rock, and once again she began to feel uncomfortable. Had this been a mistake? Instead of dwelling on this, she returned to the safe subject of Mrs. Taylor. “So what would you recommend I do?” she asked. “In regard to Mrs. Taylor.”
“In my opinion, you’ve already proved yourself a good friend and neighbor by taking her in. However, I do not see that you need to continue feeling as if you must care for her.”
“Should I throw her out?” Elizabeth tossed him a sideways glance.
He chuckled. “Oh, I’m certain you won’t do that.”
“What then?”
“Discuss with her what her plans for the future are.”
“I’ve attempted to do this, but she simply shuts down. Or else she turns away. And sometimes she cries.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “It’s very frustrating.”
“Perhaps someone else should speak to her.”
She nodded eagerly. “I agree. But both of my parents have tried.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Taylor needs some legal counsel.”
She looked hopefully at him. “Would you be willing to speak with her?”
“For your sake, I would.”
She looked down at her hands in her lap. As much as she appreciated his help, she didn’t want him to intervene with Mrs. Taylor just because of her.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That wasn’t fair. I will be glad to speak to Mrs. Taylor because it’s the right thing to do.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
They continued to talk about Mrs. Taylor’s situation, and then they discussed Brady and some reasons that Will thought she might not need to be overly concerned. “Laws regarding slavery and abolition are constantly changing. Especially in the frontier. I suspect that citizens in Oregon Country will be so busy carving out civilization and livelihoods that these racial laws will not be of utmost concern. Not for a while anyway.”
“Really?” she felt hopeful.
He nodded. “Perhaps I was amiss to bring it up with you at all.”
“No, I’m glad you did. I don’t believe that ignorance is bliss.”
“Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise.”
“Thomas Gray,” she supplied.
His brown eyes lit up. “You know that poem?”
“I remember it. It always seemed a sad one to me.”
He nodded. “It seems like a young person’s sort of poem. I had to memorize it as a lad.”
“Do you still know it?”
“Only the last few lines.”
“Say them,” she challenged.
He laughed uncomfortably as he looked up at the sky. “Let me see…” And then in a deep orator’s tone, he began to recite.
To each his sufferings: all are men,
Condemned alike to groan;
The tender for another’s pain,
The unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate?
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies.
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
’Tis folly to be wise.
Despite the warm sun overhead, she felt gooseflesh on her arms. “I haven’t heard that poem in years…I’m astonished at the meaning of it now.”
“In some ways it seems to typify your life at the moment…don’t you think?”
She simply nodded. “The part about feeling another’s pain…”
“And how sorrow never shows up late…and happiness too swiftly flies.”
“But you don’t agree with Gray, do you?” she asked. “Certainly, you wouldn’t trade wisdom for bliss?”
He rubbed his chin in a thoughtful way. “Sometimes I would.”
She was surprised by this and didn’t try to conceal it.
“But most of the time I wouldn’t,” he assured her. “The truth is I believe that happiness and wisdom can be compatible. At least I hope so.” He removed his hat, running his fingers through his dark wavy hair with a faraway look in his eyes. “That’s why I decided to go west. I hoped I might eventually find happiness…and I hoped to use my wisdom along the way.”
“And so far?”
He looked at her, and his serious expression was absorbed by a smile. “So far…so good.”
Chapter Seven
That same evening, after supper, Will came to Elizabeth’s camp and paid a visit to Mrs. Taylor in the back of Elizabeth’s wagon. He stayed for the best part of an hour. Elizabeth and Ruth were just finishing up the supper dishes when he finally emerged.
“How did that go?” she asked as she set a cast-iron skillet on the fire to dry.
“I’m not sure.” He glanced over his shoulder back toward the wagon. “She is a stubborn woman.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle over this. “But sometimes stubbornness is a good quality.”
“Sometimes.” His brow creased as he patted Ruth on the head. But Elizabeth sensed this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the presence of children.
“Thanks for your help,” she told Ruth. “Now you can go over to Uncle Matthew’s wagon and listen to the music if you like.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Will said. “I’ll bet that’s where my children are headed by now. We certainly have some fine musicians in our unit.”
After Ruth left, Will quietly told Elizabeth a bit about the conversation. “She feels like she’s reached the end of her rope,” he explained.
“What?”
“She wants to die.”
“Oh…” Elizabeth wasn’t very surprised.
“I got her to admit that she really has no one to go back to in the East.”
“I was worried that might be her situation.”
“And now she is afraid that she will be a burden to the mission in Fort Walla Walla.”
“I can understand that.” In fact, Elizabeth couldn’t help but think Mrs. Taylor was a burden right now. But she wouldn’t voice this aloud.
“I tried to make it clear to her that she is responsible for herself and her own well-being. And I told her it was impolite for her to continue taking unfair advantage of your hospitality. I told her that you have enough on your hands with your children and this trip without having an invalid to care for as well.”
“You said that?” Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth.
“I did.” He smiled. “Perhaps a bit more gently. But I wanted her to grasp the gravity of her actions…or rather, her inactions.”
“You actually called her an invalid?”
“Not in those words. But I told her that she needs to get up tomorrow. She needs to do some walking. She needs to help you and your mother with the chores. I told her that if she doesn’t do these things, she will most assured
ly turn into an invalid. And you do not need an invalid on your hands.”
“No.” She grimly shook her head. “Not at all.”
“So it will be up to you, Elizabeth. Tomorrow morning, you must hold her accountable to these things. See that she gets up and gets dressed and gets outside. You will do her no favors by continuing to cater to her this way.”
“You’re right.” She nodded eagerly. “Thank you so much!”
“And I made her tell me her age.”
“Really?”
“I told her it would help me to assist her in the plan for her future.”
“How old is she?” Elizabeth whispered.
He chuckled. “How old do you think she is?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ve assumed she’s about ten years older than my mother. I’d say at least sixty. Maybe even sixty-five.”
He laughed. “She is forty-six.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Are you jesting?”
“Not at all. She told me her date of birth.”
“She’s younger than my mother.” Elizabeth couldn’t help but compare the two women. Her mother was so active and helpful and engaged. So unlike Mrs. Taylor.
“And I hate to admit it, but she’s not that much older than I am. I even pointed that out to her.”
Elizabeth just shook her head. “Well, I never…”
“To my way of thinking, the old girl should still have a lot of life left in her.”
“There you are, Dad!” Belinda came dancing into their campground. “We need more dancers for a reel.” Now she grabbed Elizabeth’s hand as well. “Come on, you two, this is our last night on this side of the river. We need to celebrate.”
And celebrate they did. Late into the night. Most of the people from their unit had gathered to enjoy the warm summer evening. Out of respect for Mrs. Taylor’s bereavement, they had relocated their evening sing-alongs from Asa’s camp to Matthew’s several days ago. And the past few nights they had tried to keep the noise level down. But Elizabeth felt certain Mrs. Taylor could hear their music and laughter tonight. And perhaps that was a good thing. Even if the sound of merrymaking enraged the pious old woman, who wasn’t that old, it might also help to shake her out of her mire of gloom and despair.
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