by Barbara Goss
“Ok,” Simon said, lying on his back with his arms crossed under his head. “Now here come the rules.”
“More rules?” asked Caroline.
“More rules,” he repeated. “This is as difficult for me as it is you… maybe more so for me.” He chuckled. “No touching is the first rule. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine. Agreed?”
“Most assuredly,” she answered.
“Last rule, no pulling on the blanket. It looks to be a cool night.” He smiled as he heard her sigh.
Somehow, probably because of the coldness, in the morning, they both ended up in the center, snuggling back to back. Simon woke first and he felt the warm body pressed against his back. “Dagnabbit!” he muttered. He lay quiet for a moment, making sure Caroline was still asleep, and then carefully, removed himself from the bed and tent.
He was growing extremely fond of Caroline. She tried so hard and felt bad when she failed at a chore. Her cooking had improved, and she worked hard making every day on the trail more pleasant. She helped during difficult water crossings, and never complained about being mired in sand or having to help push the wagon uphill. Not to mention her adorable smile when she looked up at him with large blue eyes after she accomplished a task. She was remarkable, and she had surprised him. After the first day, he’d thought it a big mistake to take her on, but not anymore. He liked her far too much to stay sleeping beside her for too long.
He started the fire before waking her and then he crawled inside the tent to nudge her. She cried out in her sleep, a sound denoting fear. He shook her gently by the shoulders, but instead of waking she yelled, “No! No!” and threw her arms around his neck. “Help!” she cried.
While enjoying her arms around his neck, he forced himself to remove them and shake her again. “Carrie, wake up, you’re dreaming!”
Her eyes flew open, wide-eyed and frightened. Simon rubbed her cheek softly. “It’s all right. It was a dream. You’re safe.”
Caroline slowly came to reality, and sighed. “Oh, Simon. I had the most horrid dream. Thank God, it wasn’t real. While picking up firewood I veered too close to some woods, and a big brown bear started chasing me… and," she gulped, “he was getting closer and closer.”
“Well, if breakfast isn’t ready soon, there will be three angry bears chasing you!” he laughed.
When the train began to roll for the day Caroline collected her bedding that still felt slightly wet. She spread them out inside the wagon in hopes they would dry by nightfall. The traveling was rough, and filled with illness and diseases. Their wagon in the lead place hadn’t yet been affected by illness, but the other two trains buried four people the day before. Sadness gripped everyone. Every day they passed grave after grave. Life on the Oregon Trail included failed river crossings, Illness, accidents, and Indian attacks but fortunately their large caravan moved without any Indian attacks. Several times the wagon became too wet to sleep in, and Caroline and Simon huddled together under the wagon or in his tent. The trip brought them a comfortable and close platonic relationship.
Each morning Caroline hopped onto Daisy and pranced beside Simon driving the wagon. They always exchanged a smile when she trotted near. She rode along, enjoying her freedom upon her horse. She visited Ella daily, yet always mindful to keep the train in sight.
Behind Simon and Caroline’s wagon, Jake drove the load of flour, while Henry hauled the other freight wagon. During a nooner one day, Jake approached Henry with his empty lunch plate. “Take this back to Miller, will ya?”
“Sure,” Henry agreed. “How come you never eat with us?”
“I don’t want to get too close to them is all.” Jake said.
“Why not? It’s a break from the routine, and we have some laughs.”
Jake picked his rotten teeth with a weed. “Why are you going to Oregon?”
“Dunno,” he mumbled shuffling his feet in the dirt.
“Everyone’s got a reason,” prodded Jake.
“Well… let’s say I got into a bit of trouble and needed to leave the area and goin’ west sounded like a good idea. I’m gonna start a new life.”
“Have you any idea how much money we are hauling in these here wagons?” Jake asked.
“I gotta lot o’junk in mine. Far as I can see in there.”
“Not junk, Henry. Everything in these two wagons will sell in Oregon for big money.”
“I guess Simon is pretty smart then, huh?”
“How’d you like to be pretty smart?” Jake asked slyly, “and rich?”
“What’ya mean?”
“What if we could steal these wagons and make it to Oregon ourselves and sell this stuff?”
Henry scratched his blond head. “Can’t see how we’d be able to do that, Jake.”
“I have a few ideas. Are you in?”
“The plan has to be pretty danged good. I’d hate to be thrown off this here train and left out in this God-forsaken wilderness.”
“We could simply shoot Simon and steal his stuff...”
“Nah, I ain’t gonna be no part of killin’. I might not be the most honest man, but I ain’t never killed anyone and I ain’t gonna start now.”
“Jake swore. Take the plate back and let me think,” he growled.
After the evening meal the following night, Jake motioned Henry over to his wagon. Leaning against one of the wheels he told Henry, “I have another idea.”
Henry nodded. “It better be good.”
“If Simon’s wife got lost somehow, what do you think he’d do?” asked Jake.
Henry shrugged. “Dunno, probably look for her.”
“Exactly,” smiled Jake showing his crooked yellow teeth. “Remember those Injuns we passed before we stopped for the night?”
Henry nodded. “Yeah, they weren’t into trading or selling they just stared at us. They gave me the creeps.”
“I’m gonna walk back there and offer ‘em a bag of that flour I’m haulin’ and ask a small favor of ‘em.”
“What’s the favor?”
“Maybe it’s better ya don’t know… but there’s no killin’ involved.”
To Caroline’s delight, Simon almost always started the breakfast fire for her each morning before he went to fetch the oxen. She wondered endlessly if she’d be able to go off without him when they reached Oregon. She pushed the thought from her mind and decided to enjoy what time they had together. He sure made the tedious trip a lot easier. When he smiled at her, it thrilled her down to her toes. He was no longer the strict task-manager that he was at the beginning of their trip.
Simon approached her as she cleared away breakfast. “The word from the scout is there is no firewood for quite a few miles. We need to find buffalo chips. I don’t want to use the few pieces of lumber I have left unless we have no other choice.”
“Buffalo droppings… ewwww,” she said, curling her nose. “I heard the other women talking about that.”
“It’s not too awful. They are dry and odorless from laying in the air and sun so long.” He explained cuffing her chin lightly. “Can you collect enough for two days or so?” he asked.
She gave him a comical smirk. “I’ll do it now to get it over with. Save me some water to wash my hands when I return.”
Simon nodded. “The train is starting to move. I'll hitch Daisy to the back of the wagon while you start, but don’t— listen to me— don’t lose sight of the train while you look for chips.”
“Aye, Aye,” she said with a salute.
Caroline had never seen such flat, sandy land. It looked like one big sea of dirty sand with a few weed clusters sticking out every so often. It felt refreshing though to get a distance from the train and the dust.
Caroline found a few chips, but not nearly enough. Most of the women in the wagons ahead of them had grabbed the closest ones. She had to walk out farther and farther to find some. She did keep the train in sight, but barely. She stumbled along, searching the ground and carrying what she found in her apron. Suddenl
y, she had the feeling of being watched. She spun around and there, sitting upon a spotted horse, sat the meanest looking Indian she’d ever seen. He grinned slyly through a wildly painted face. She quickly swung back around to assure herself she remained in sight of the train. While still slightly visible, the last wagons in their train were just then turning around a bend. The second and third parts of the train had been delayed due to burials. She couldn’t see any coming on the horizon in the other direction. She ran frantically, but the mounted Indian had no trouble catching up. He scooped her up with one hand and laid her across the front of his horse. Caroline screamed, but knew no one would hear her.
6
Simon kept scouring the scenery for a glimpse of Caroline. The train moved faster than she walked so it wasn’t long before Simon had to look backwards to see her. “Dang,” he said under his breath. Now, the trail curves and I've lost sight of the area she was in altogether. Simon tried not to panic. While the wagon moved he stood up on the seat, straining to see the area. No Caroline. He had to stop.
Pulling his wagon off the trail so the other wagons could pass him, he jumped down and grabbed Daisy. He rode as quickly as he could toward where he’d last seen her. He could see for miles and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Now, he panicked. He felt his heart pounding. What could he do? He spurred Daisy on faster. She couldn’t be missing. Someone must have taken her, as unbelievable as it seemed. There just weren’t any hiding places on the open prairie.
Then, he recalled the Indian village they’d passed the previous night and raced to it...his only hope. As the scenery sped by, he prayed.
Caroline did not try to fight or get away for she knew it was futile. She thought it smarter to keep as calm as possible. If the Indian thought her docile, it might be easier to escape. He rode like the wind doing a lot of turning and darting this way and that. Or at least that’s what it felt like face down on his horse. After what seemed like an hour but in reality was probably just half that, she felt him rein in and quickly jump off the horse pulling her with him. He quickly passed her to another Indian who stuffed her into a wigwam.
Inside, a female Indian tied her hands and feet and quickly stuffed a wad of some material into her mouth. They seemed to be in a great hurry. No words were spoken, which led Caroline to believe this was no random kidnapping. It had to have been planned, even rehearsed. The Indians moved so swiftly, and each knew what the other had to do, wordlessly.
She wondered what Simon would do, and how long it would take him to find her. She had no doubt he would find her.
Jake smiled when he saw Simon abandoning his wagon. He signaled Henry. Jake and Henry stopped long enough to grab as much stored food from Simon’s wagon as they could carry. Then, both wagons sped around the other wagons until the train was just a speck of dust on the horizon.
When they finally stopped to rest the team, Jake laughed. “My plan wasn’t even needed.”
“How so?” Henry asked, chewing on a stalk of tall grass.
“Every morning MIller’s wife rides along the wagons and always pays a visit to the lady in the last wagon. I planned on signaling ‘er and sayin’ I saw a woman laying off the trail back about a quarter mile back who may need help. I knew she’d check it out. That’s what I told the Indians I’d do. When I saw her walking so far from the train looking for chips, I knew the Indian would pick up on it and find her. “
“They won’t kill her will they?” Henry asked in alarm.
“Naw, They’re gonna sell her back to Miller.”
“I’m getting nervous Jake… Let’s go. We gotta get farther ahead of those wagons than this.”
“Yup, let ‘er roll!” he whipped the team.
As Simon approached the Indian village, he cautiously scanned the area looking for clues, and listening for sounds that might indicate Caroline’s presence. He noted about twelve wigwams and a corral of horses. A tall, unpainted Indian with his arms crossing his bare chest, approached Simon as he drew up. Simon never thought about language barriers. He didn’t speak any Indian languages, so he’d have to use sign language… of sorts. When the Indian grunted, Simon got off his horse. He made a woman’s figure with both hands.
The Indian stared at him and nodded.
Excited, Simon smiled, and pointed to himself, then made the woman’s figure again and then himself again. He hoped the Indian would understand the woman belonged to him, and he wanted her.
The Indian himself, then used sign language— he held out his palm.
Simon knew what the Indian wanted, but didn’t want to pull his wad of money out because once the Indian saw it, he’d want all of it. So he put his hand inside his pocket and carefully skimmed off a few greenbacks and placed them into the Indian’s palm.
The Indian looked at the money and shook his head with a loud grunt. He yelled a few words that Simon didn’t recognize, which caused a middle-aged white man to appear from a nearby wigwam, who walked over to Simon and the big Indian.
“Name’s Ned,” he said. “Can I help?”
Simon eyed the man carefully, wondering why he lived among a tribe of Indians. Of average built he had salt and pepper colored hair. At least, he spoke English. “A young woman from my wagon train is missing and this fellow,” he pointed to the big Indian who still stood with his palm out, “nodded that she is here, and I want her back.”
“She’s here, but the Indians were promised a good price for her.” Ned replied, spitting what looked to Simon like tobacco juice, on the ground.
“Promised?” he nearly shouted. “By whom?”
Ned spat again. “A man named Jake from a wagon train.”
Simon was tempted to curse, but caught himself. In his family, curses were never used and they never solved any problems. He tried to keep calm. He knew if he acted too anxious the price would go up; not that he wouldn’t pay it, of course. If he had to, he’d hand over all the money to get Caroline back.
“What is the going price for a white woman these days?” he asked, emphasizing the words “white woman.”
“This woman your wife?” Ned asked.
“Yes. I asked, how much?”
Ned turned, and talked in the tribal language to the big Indian. Then, he turned to Simon and said, “Fifty dollars.”
Simon nodded, turned his back and took out his roll of money. He counted out fifty, pocketed the rest, and handed the money to Ned. With the twenty dollars he’d given the big Indian earlier, it came to seventy dollars. It could have been worse; he thought.
Ned talked to the big Indian again. The big Indian yelled out a command and within a few minutes an Indian woman appeared pulling Caroline, whose hands were still tied, but she no longer wore a gag.
As Caroline walked toward Simon, he noticed she wasn’t screaming, crying, or hysterical. She smiled when she saw him. Simon grabbed her and hugged her tightly. “Carrie! Dear Lord, I’m so glad I found you.” He felt reluctant to let her go.
She squirmed free, smiling; her blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “I knew you’d find me,” she said calmly. “Can someone untie my hands?”
Ned took out a knife and cut the binding from her hands. The Indian woman came to stand beside Ned, and he put his arm around her. “I know how valuable a good wife is,” he said, smiling down at the Indian woman. “Go in peace.”
Simon placed Caroline in front of him on Daisy and spurred the horse into a gallop. Every few seconds, he’d give her a squeeze. He felt so relieved to have her back. The episode must have cost him ten years of his life. She meant more to him than he’d ever imagined.
They found their wagon just as another train rolled by leaving enough dust to partially obliterate his wagon. When they got closer, and the dust settled, they could see it had been completely ransacked. Simon slid to the ground and leaned against a wheel with his head in his hands. Caroline crawled inside the wagon to see what, if anything, remained.
“Simon!” she called, jumping down from the wagon bed, “they didn�
��t take everything. There are still some fruit tins and some cheese.” Simon didn’t answer. “They also left the barrel of flour.”
Simon pounded his fist into the side of the wagon. “Jake!” he yelled, “That snake, Jake!”
“I don’t understand.” A puzzled Caroline laid her hand on his shoulder. “What makes you think Jake did this?”
“Jake and Henry stole our supply wagons!” He pounded the wagon again. “And people from passing trains must have helped themselves to what looked like an abandoned wagon.”
After several moments, Caroline asked, “How do you know Jake and Henry took the wagons, maybe they’re still with our train?”
“Not likely when it was Jake who told the Indians to kidnap and sell you.”
“Oh!” She bit her lip. “The whole thing felt planned, and I never trusted Jake. He is, indeed, a snake. But, Henry must be in on it too, right?”
”I would bet on it.”
“What do we do now, Simon?”
“I reckon we have only three choices. Try to catch Jake and Henry by riding Daisy, or give up and try to find a nearby town to settle in for now, or we could await another wagon train and try to hitch this empty wagon to it.” He smirked. The latter is a bit idealistic.”
Caroline seemed to consider the options. “I’m not sure Daisy would last long with two of us riding at fast speeds.”
Simon agreed. “And we have no idea how far it is to the nearest town to find housing and food.”
“What about another train?”
“Not likely they’d let us join with no food or supplies.”
“We have a bit of food, and we could hunt for meat and b. for what we don’t have.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, “At least I haven’t lost everything.”
