Cora hugged Mother. “Thank you, and don’t worry. We’ll be back before you know it. You won’t be sorry. I’ll go get something to carry the nuts.”
Cora ran to find a basket while her heart lifted in song. A walk through the woods with Ben would be wonderful. She lifted her eyes to the line of trees at the edge of the woods. Surely they held many exciting secrets. She smiled in anticipation.
Chapter 3
“You’ll have to be quiet if you want any meat for supper.” Ben’s voice carried in the forest.
Cora nodded.
“There might be some pecans over that way.” Ben pointed. “They like water. The creek is just beyond. We cut trees over there.”
Cora turned the direction he pointed and saw stumps poking from the ground. Again she nodded and headed toward the creek. Ben’s voice followed her. “Don’t get out of my sight. Make sure you can always see me.”
She waved and continued through the thick bed of dried leaves until she was several yards from her brother. At the sharp report of his rifle, she turned quickly. Had he already shot something? Surely not. They’d have to go back to camp if he had, and she hadn’t seen anything interesting yet.
Ben stood several yards away. He turned toward her and shook his head. He must have missed. She laughed and clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the sound. Freedom from duty and work lifted the burden she’d carried since they’d started this horrible move. Eliza wouldn’t be calling her to do something for Mother. Not in the woods. An exciting afternoon of adventure lay ahead.
If only George were here with her. Most of their outings in the last year had been to the courthouse. Every trial or hearing open to the public found George there, an absorbed spectator. Just weeks before they left St. Louis, he’d become a junior clerk with Gosset and Smith, two of the best attorneys in Missouri, according to George.
A low branch brought Cora up short. She dodged it, then looked for her brother. He stood beside a large tree some distance away. With a sigh of relief, she checked out her surroundings. Nothing but trees as far as she could see. If she didn’t move, the silence became a living thing, heavy and pressing against her ears. Then a bird chirped. Something scratched in the underbrush to her right. Sounds of the forest crept in with birds singing and rustling noises. How had she thought the forest was quiet?
A puff of air winding its way through the trees circled her before moving on. She shivered, tucking her bare hands into her coat pockets, letting the basket handle slide up her arm. She stomped her feet to warm her toes as she looked around. It hadn’t been so cold before. Satisfied there were no pecan trees in sight, she moved on.
Cora began zigzagging around trees with leaves and broken sticks crunching under her feet. So she wasn’t as quiet as she’d promised. But she was cold. She tugged her coat closer around her and kept moving. When it seemed she’d walked forever, with only an occasional shot from Ben’s gun, she spotted a small grove of pecan trees by the edge of the creek. She ran the last few steps and sank to the ground to fill her basket. She picked up every pecan within reach, scooted over, and started again. Father would be glad to see her full basket. Even if Ben didn’t get any meat, they would have pecans.
Pecans reached almost to the top of her basket when a twig snapped. Her heart jumped, and she turned.
“It’s only me.” Ben squatted beside her. “Looks like you’re doing better than I am.”
“You didn’t get anything?”
He shook his head. “I shot at several, but nothing stood still long enough. I’m slow reloading. The animals watch me and disappear about the time I’m ready for them.”
Cora giggled. “Smart animals.”
He nodded and tossed some pecans into the basket. “I think we ought to start back. It’s beginning to snow.”
A large snowflake fell on her dark woolen skirt. It slowly melted, but was followed by others landing several inches apart. Cora looked up at her brother. “I think you’re right. Mother will be worried. I hope you know the way.”
He shrugged. “I think we came in a fairly straight line. If we go back the same way, we should come out of the woods about where we came in.”
Cora scrambled to her feet, brushing leaves from her skirt and coat. She clutched the full basket. “You lead the way.”
Each snowflake that fell seemed to be followed by two more until the air danced with the cold, white crystals. Cora tried to shield her face from their sting. She kept up with Ben as he trudged ahead of her, his gun slung over his shoulder. Fluffs of white gathered on tree limbs, and the ground looked like a white-patched carpet.
Cora envisioned the log shelter the men were building. It wasn’t a real house, but it would at least block the wind. A fire in Mother’s stove would send out rays of warmth into each corner. If only she could feel its warmth now. Her hands ached from the cold, and her feet grew numb.
The wind that had been gentle grew in intensity, sending swirls of snow toward them. As they wound their way around trees and over fallen logs, Cora tried to keep her back to the wind, but it was no use. Either the wind changed directions or they did.
She stumbled as she lifted one foot after another. The wind lashed out in fury, slanting the cold, wet curtain of white almost horizontal. Only an occasional leaf stuck its point above the snow-covered ground.
Ben and Cora bent against the driving snow
Even while she thought of freezing to death, Cora realized her feet were not so cold now as faint warmth settled in them. She concentrated on her feet, letting drowsiness steal over her. The warm, soft mattress waiting at camp called to her.
In a haze, she saw Ben turn. His lips moved, but no words reached her ears. She yelled at him, telling him she couldn’t hear. She was sleepy. Why didn’t he stop?
She tried to take another step, but something tripped her, throwing her toward a wide, bark-covered wall. Her hand flew out in a futile attempt to break her fall. There was nothing there. As if a door opened in the huge tree, she fell inside.
In an instant, Ben shook her. “Cora, get up. Your feet are out in the snow.”
She fought against hands tugging her coat, pulling her into a sitting position. Why wouldn’t he let her sleep? Her eyes opened and she tucked her feet under her, but they were as chunks of ice against her upper legs taking her breath away. Quickly, she straightened. More awake now, she tried to see the dark interior of their shelter. “It’s warm in here. And dry.”
“The rotting wood gives off heat. And we’re out of the wind and snow too.” Ben sat beside her. “What about your feet? Are they all right?”
“I don’t know. I can’t feel them.”
“Take your shoes and stockings off.”
Pain shot through her foot when he began rubbing it. “What are you doing?” She tried to jerk away, but he held fast, rubbing until the color returned. “Now give me the other foot.”
“No.”
“Do you want frostbite? If we don’t get the blood back, you could lose your foot.”
Cora stuck her other foot out. “What about yours?”
“Just a little cold. My boots are waterproof.”
When he finished wrapping her feet in her woolen scarf, she tucked both under her long, heavy skirt. The warmth surrounding them felt wonderful. “Now what do we do?”
Ben shifted close beside her. “I guess we wait the storm out.”
“Mother will worry.”
“I know. But it’s better she worry a few hours than the alternative.”
A shiver moved down Cora’s spine. Maybe the danger wasn’t over yet. Maybe the storm would go on for days and they would freeze to death. Her stomach growled. If they didn’t die of starvation first.
Her pecans. She looked toward the open doorway of their small shelter. There, covered with snow, were her precious pecans. Beside them lay the crumpled basket. She shifted to a kneeling position and reached through the opening. As her hand closed over the wet snow-covered basket handle, she felt Ben’s arm br
ush hers.
“Let me. You’ll freeze your hands.” He scooped up several pecans.
Cora moved to the side. “I’m glad we didn’t lose them all. Father would’ve been so disappointed.”
“Yes, I guess so.” Ben’s voice faltered.
A sob caught in Cora’s throat. “You don’t think we’ll get back, do you? Ben, I’m scared. We’re going to die.” Tears choked her voice as a new thought came to her. If she died, she’d never see George again.
Ben pulled her close, and her tears erupted in a torrent. As she thought of her own death, fear settled in her heart. The meteor shower had been a warning. Maybe this was more than a warning. She wasn’t ready to die. She was terrified. God, please spare my life. Mine and Ben’s. She wiped her eyes and took a shuddering breath. A sharp crack ricocheted through the small enclosure and she lifted her head from Ben’s shoulder.
“Here. Supper’s ready.” She felt a pecan pressed into her hand. “It’s a little dark to see how to pick it out, but you’ll know if you bite into a shell.”
The storm raged while they ate the pecans Ben broke by squeezing two together in his hand. Cora lost all sense of time as the light outside dimmed, and the drone of the wind whipped past the small opening in their tree.
Cora huddled with her brother in the confines of their shelter, sharing what little space and warmth they had. Ben leaned against the inside wall of the tree while Cora curled into a ball with her cheek against his coat. The wind calmed, and a wintry silence descended on the hollow sycamore tree.
~*~
Cora shifted position. Her body ached beyond belief. As the haze of sleep lifted, her memory returned. She and Ben had taken refuge in a tree. They hadn’t frozen to death during the night.
“Good morning.” A narrow ray of sunshine lit Ben’s smiling face. “The storm’s over.”
Cora sat up, popping stiff joints with each movement. Ben straightened, rolling his head from side to side. “We’d better try to find our way home.”
“I need to put my shoes and stockings back on.”
Ben nodded. “While you’re doing that, I’ll step outside.”
Cora reached for her shoes while Ben crawled through the small opening. A sharp twang and the crack of a brittle branch above his head sounded. He jerked back while small pieces of bark flew in all directions.
“Someone shot at me!” Disbelief edged his voice.
Cora’s heart jumped and raced. She stared at Ben. “Who? Why?”
It was Indians. George said they hunted here. Every atrocity she’d ever heard relating to Indians filled her memory.
“I don’t think they know we’re here. I’m going out.” Ben started forward again.
“No!” Cora grabbed his coat. “They’ll kill you.”
The words no sooner left her mouth than another shot rang out going through the tree several feet above her head. Dislodged rot fell. Cora ducked and covered her ears with her hands. Grit and grime showered down on them.
“Well, this tree isn’t going to stop a bullet. I’m going out before he has time to reload.” Ben scrambled through the opening, yelling. “Stop! Don’t shoot!”
Cora grabbed her stocking and pulled it on as quickly as her trembling fingers would allow. She heard Ben’s footsteps crunching through the snow away from the tree. He thought he’d find a hunter who didn’t know they were there, but what if it were an Indian or maybe an outlaw who did know? What if they took Ben captive?
Her cold fingers fumbled with her shoes. She peeked outside. Silence greeted her. On hands and knees now, Cora pressed her face close to the edge of the opening and peered out. Nothing but snow and trees. Ever so slowly, she stuck her head out farther. And stopped.
There, just inches from her own, was a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. A young man near her age grinned at her. “Hi. You Ben’s sister? He said you was in the old, holler sycamore.”
Warmth crept into Cora’s cheeks. She brushed disheveled hair from her eyes. What a sight she must be. She nodded. “Yes. I’m Cora Jackson.”
He offered his hand, and she allowed him to help her stand. She’d never seen such blue eyes before.
“I’m real sorry about shootin’ at ya” A wide grin complemented his twinkling eyes, making him quite handsome. “Honest, we didn’t know you was in the tree.”
“We?” Cora tore her gaze from him. Were there others in this forsaken land?
“Sure, me and my brother. He’s over there with yours.” He pointed to the two young men deep in conversation. “I’d druther tell you Aaron was the one shootin’ at you, but I’ll have to ’fess up.” He pointed at the tree. “There was a squirrel sittin’ right there on that branch. Never did hit the rascal. I’m most of the time tolerable good at gettin’ squirrels too.”
He launched into a tale of a successful hunting experience, but Cora didn’t listen.
She interrupted as soon as he caught his breath. “Where do you live? Are there more in your family? What about other families?”
He laughed “You want me to quit babbling’, do you?”
Her face flushed, and he laughed again. “Don’t worry none. Ivy says I talk too much.”
“Who’s Ivy?”
“My baby sister. Worse spoiled brat you’ll ever meet. She was a puny baby. Got used to bein’ pampered. She takes after Aaron. They’re always puttin’ on airs. Only trouble is we got mighty slim pickin’s most the time at our place, so I can’t see the need for pretendin’ otherwise.”
“Baby sister? How old is she?”
“Eighteen come February.”
Only a year younger than her. Maybe she wasn’t as spoiled as he made her sound. A friend would be wonderful in this horrible place.
“Then there’s Ma and Pa.” Again, his grin flashed as he stuck out his hand. She took it, and he pumped furiously. “I’m Ralph Walter Stark.” He bowed slightly. “I’m real proud to meet y’all, Miss Jackson.”
“Cora Jackson. We just got here from St. Louis.” Something hard and round crunched under Cora’s shoe. One of her pecans. She bent and plucked it from the packed snow of her footprint.
“Well, I’ll be.” Ralph knelt beside her. “I never knowed sycamores to grow pecans afore.” He brushed snow aside, uncovering another.
“I dropped them last night.” Cora reached into the tree for her battered basket. “Maybe I can find enough to take to my father.”
Together they sifted through the snow, picking up pecans until the bottom of her basket was covered.
“You must’ve had a rough night out here in the woods, Miss Cora.” Ralph’s grin was infectious.
Cora smiled. “I’m sure it could’ve been worse.”
“Ralph, you ready to go?” The deep voice came from above them.
“Sure ‘nuff, soon as we get Cora’s pecans picked up.”
“We better get goin’. Ben says he knows the way home now. I promised Pa we’d be back shortly. He needs help with the fence.”
Ralph stood and dropped two more pecans into Cora’s basket. He grinned at her, but spoke to his brother. “You’re the boss.”
Cora straightened to see a taller, older version of Ralph. Yet there were differences. His face was more slender, his jaw firmer. He’d be better-looking than Ralph if he weren’t so stern and solemn. Not that she cared. There were others living nearby, and one was a girl near her age.
Following Aaron’s directions, Ben led Cora back to camp. She could see the two wagons and the new shelter as soon as they came out of the woods. A thin spiral of smoke rose from the shelter as a beckoning welcome.
With flying steps, Cora crossed the distance to her waiting family only to learn her father and John were out looking for her and Ben.
Mother hugged them both. “Father went out last night when the first snowflakes fell, but the storm came so quickly he was forced back.” She laid a hand on Ben’s arm. “He said you’d find shelter. He trusted you to know what to do.”
Ben chuckled. “We fo
und shelter, even if it was accidental.”
“They promised to check in by noon.” A frown touched Mother’s forehead. “I hate the thought of them out looking when there’s no need.”
“We must have missed them somehow.” Ben looked toward the woods. “I’ll go see if I can find them.”
“Oh, Ben, what if you get lost again?”
“Don’t worry, Mother. Our footprints are easy to follow in the snow.”
While Ben replenished his supply of powder and lead shot before leaving, Cora looked with sinking heart at the large piece of oilcloth spread over the beds.
Sunlight came through the cracks of the walls, making a striped pattern on the room. Melting snow on top of each log ran down the inside walls to the ground. A drop of water landed with a splat on Cora’s head. She looked up, appalled to see snow melting through thick layers of cedar branches that served as a roof.
“Mother, everything’s getting soaked.” Cora turned anxious eyes toward her mother.
“I know.” Mother sighed. “There’s nothing we can do about it. The beds are covered. Everything else will dry.”
“But—”
One look from her mother stopped Cora’s complaint. “Remember, Cora, a lady does the best she can with what she has. It does no good to whine about the things we don’t like.”
Cora shut out the depressing sight before her as much as she could. “Ralph’s so friendly. You’ll like him. He’s a little taller than Ben and has a really nice smile.” She thought of Ralph’s slaughter of the English language and wondered what George would think about him.
“Sounds like you’re the one who likes him.” Eliza’s light brown eyes twinkled above her grin.
“I do not.” Cora blushed in spite of her efforts to remain nonchalant. Ralph was good-looking, and he seemed pleasant. Even when his older brother had been unfriendly, Ralph made light of it. Of course, she could never care for anyone but George.
“Please, tell us about the rest of the family.” Mother’s voice cut into Cora’s thoughts.
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