by Prairie Song
An obvious attraction to Miss Goben. Confident he’d never marry, though still shy of twenty-two. Read the Bible, but turned white as a blizzard when asked to share what he read.
A puzzling young man, for sure.
Wednesday night Anna startled awake. Her hammock swayed, strung between an oak and a hook on the side of the wagon. She’d heard something in the distance but couldn’t tell what.
Rubbing her eyes, she looked up into the dark night and squinted to focus her vision. The crescent moon offered enough light to show a clear sky. No hint of lightning or thunder. The company had come through a little berg called Warrenton that afternoon and were camped near a creek. Maybe some hunters or other travelers had set up camp nearby.
Now that she was awake, she heard only sounds she recognized—Großvater’s stumbling snore, frogs croaking in the creek, and the incessant chirp of crickets from a few feet away.
Most likely, she’d been dreaming. Whether of walking mile after mile or hearing Caroline’s story about the captain bringing her a bouquet of mint for a poultice or falling on her backside in front of Caleb Reger. They had all taken the stage in her sleeping thoughts.
“Bear!”
“A bear!”
Both were women’s voices. Not far down the line.
Her heart pounding, Anna rolled from the hammock, tugging her dressing gown free. A rifle blast split the night, and heavy footfalls pounded the ground in the direction of the screams.
“Make noise!” Trail hands’ voices, repeating the order, ran by.
The wagon creaked and groaned. Mutter was on the move too.
“There’s a bear in camp, Mutter. Stay inside,” Anna called.
Mutter hung out the puckered opening in the canvas. “Vater! Mein vater. Where is he?”
“Right here, Wilma.” Großvater scuttled toward them. Huffing and puffing, he scooped a stick off the ground and yanked the bean pot from its hook on the side of the wagon. Whistling louder than she’d ever heard him, he banged on the pot.
Anna joined Mutter on the seat and struck tin plates with spoons, shouting until the other noises began to fade.
“They’re quieting down,” Großvater said. “Must have chased him out of camp.”
Anna dropped the plate and spoon to her lap, sighing in unison with Mutter. “It’s over.”
“Is it?” Her hands shaking, Mutter tugged a blanket up to her neck. “Someone could be hurt. Or worse.”
“You folks all right?” Caleb Reger’s voice rose as he stepped into view. “Otto, you here?”
“Yes.” Großvater walked into the faint glow of the firepit.
Anna pulled the other corner of Mutter’s blanket over her shoulder. The disconcerting trail hand held up a candle lantern. Why did it have to be him? A rifle rested against his left shoulder. “Ladies?”
“We’re all fine.” Anna clasped her hands to stop the shaking. “Thank you.”
“Thank God.” Caleb sighed.
“The bear?” Großvater leaned on the wheel. “What happened? Everyone else safe?”
“Our furry guest took a grub box from the Kamdens’ table.”
Anna and Mutter both gasped. “Caroline? The children?”
“Shaken up but unharmed. The doctor is with Mr. Kamden’s mother, Davonna. She heard the growl and caught the vapors. Seems fine now. We’ll need to check on the livestock. May have to round some of them up in the morning before we can head out.” Mr. Reger tilted sideways, glancing at the back of the wagon. “If you have any food in that box, we’ll need to hang it from a tree. Away from the wagon.”
They didn’t. But a box of food wasn’t all that could make them vulnerable on this trip. Großvater and his weakened constitution. Mutter and her attraction to the bottle. Back in Saint Charles, the captain had warned them of the dangers of the journey, but none of them had seemed real to Anna. Until now.
She wondered suddenly if the hope and new life waiting for them at the end of this journey were worth the risks it would take to get there.
11
Caleb sat in the middle of his bedroll, the graying sky offering a hint of the coming dawn. He draped a wool blanket over his shoulders and rested his forearms on his knees.
The captain expected him to read from Scripture this morning. In front of the entire Company. As if he had authority, or even the right, to do so. Garrett wanted him to share some sort of word from God for their day, an encouragement for their journey.
Now all he had to do was decide what that would be, and pretend God wasn’t being silent. Or at least hope that even if He had nothing to say to Caleb, God would answer the needs of the others. Davonna Kamden came to mind. As did Anna Goben. She slept outside. She could’ve been killed by the bear last night.
“Mornin’, Mister Caleb.” Isaac rose from the ground. He was already a big man, but as a silhouette in the early morning hours, he seemed to block out the sky.
“Mornin’, Isaac. You get any sleep?”
“Not more than three or four winks.” He rolled his blankets. “You, sir?”
“About the same.”
“Kept hearin’ that bear. Seein’ him makin’ off with the Kamdens’ grub. Not too proud to admit the whole thing had me feeling, well, a lot like that poor woman.”
“Faint?”
“Yessir.”
A chuckle escaped before Caleb could stop it.
Isaac snapped his suspenders against his barrel chest. “You go on and laugh, sir; it’s good for the spirit. But I could make this whole trip without hearin’ that word again.”
Bear. Caleb resisted the temptation to say it aloud. Rising to his feet, he looked up at Isaac. He couldn’t quite make out the jagged scar on Isaac’s face, but he knew it was there. The cheerful fellow had faced much worse than a hungry, cantankerous bear.
“You tellin’ me you wasn’t scared even a little, knowin’ there was a bear trompin’ through camp?” Isaac asked.
“I was more mad than anything else.”
“Mad? At the bear for disturbin’ your beauty sleep?”
Caleb let out a long breath. “Mad at myself. Could have been a lot worse than losin’ a box of food.”
“Well, you were sure enough quick with that gunshot.” Isaac let out a low whistle. “Gave me second thoughts, and the bear too.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately, he went the wrong way.”
“Only till that hullabaloo started in. More than just Boney that’s good with a bean pot.” Isaac chuckled.
Caleb pulled his bedding from the ground. He liked spending time with the freedman. No matter the circumstance, he could count on Isaac for a bit of lighthearted fun and encouragement in the midst of it.
Isaac pulled his horn from the bag at his feet. “Done heard the boss asked you to read Scripture before we head out in the mornin’s.”
Asked wasn’t exactly the right word. “I’m going to. Yes. Unless you’d like the honors.”
“You know I would, sir. I can’t get enough of the Good Book.” He sighed, pointing to his head. “But it’s all up here, mostly in songs.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re always whistling or humming.”
“Yessir. Never learned to read, but I carry it with me. Sometimes it just wants to come out, all on its own.”
Caleb wadded his blankets, wishing he was more grateful for what he had left. And for the abilities he took for granted.
“Seems the boss knew what he was doin’, choosin’ you. More like a Divine nudge, really. Folks’ll be ready for a little steadyin’ from the Word.”
“I reckon they will.”
“A little steadyin’.” That’s what he needed, and it wasn’t a bear causing him grief.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways, don’t He?”
Caleb nodded into the early daylight. Was God working in mysterious ways? Or did His silence mean He’d given up?
Anna climbed over the wagon seat and out onto the top of the wheel. The morning had finally come, and its finger
s of light seemed to dance across the land as if it knew nothing of the bear’s intrusion. Isaac had sounded the horn calling everyone to their morning preparations for the day’s journey, so people stirred up and down the line. Anna had spent the remainder of the night curled on top of her trunk. The memory of the camp’s guest in the wee hours lingered fresh in her mind. Anna looked on either side of the wagon and toward the trees behind them, where the bear was last seen.
Großvater groaned as he rolled out of the hammock she’d abandoned and attempted to brush down his wiry gray hair.
“It’s safe,” he said. “The bear is gone.” He lifted the loop at the end of the hammock off the hook on the wagon, then untied the rope from the tree. “She’s probably snoring in a den somewhere, too full of Mrs. Kamden’s kuchen and salt pork to move.”
“Made for a short night.” Anna turned and, using the wheel spokes as a ladder, climbed down from the wagon. “If Mutter and I went back to sleep at all, it was fitful. How about you?”
Yawning, Großvater looked up at the food box he and Caleb had strung in the tree. “I must have slept, because I dreamed about being carried away in the hammock like a fish in a net.” He shook his head. “A solemn reminder that we’re not at home in the wild.”
“The captain certainly warned us of danger, but—”
“We’ve traveled thirty miles and more without any trouble.” Großvater rolled the hammock and heaved it into the back of the wagon. “Having no real trouble can lull you. Maybe it’s good we had this incident so early. We will all be more aware.”
Anna tied her bonnet at her chin. “You’re still glad we’re here, I mean, making the move west?”
“I am. I’m feeling better with every day that passes. I think your mutter is too.”
“Until last night, anyway.”
“Yes, well, we can all do without any more such scares.” He chuckled. “When the growling started, I like to have left my skin behind trying to get back here.”
Anna nodded. While Großvater lowered the box from the tree, she went to the water barrel lashed to the wagon and scooped out some cold water to splash her face. Just what she needed to be fully awake.
Großvater set the box on the worktable and pulled a match from it. By the time Mutter came out of the wagon, Großvater had the fire popping and the coffeepot boiling, and Anna pulled bread and dry sausage from the box for their breakfast. It’d be a quick one this morning.
Within an hour, they’d eaten and packed up, and Großvater had the oxen yoked to the wagon. Anna gathered with the rest of the Company.
Garrett Cowlishaw stood in front of them, holding a steaming cup of coffee. After delivering a brief summary of the night’s adventure, he admonished everyone to take precautions and be vigilant. After a brief pause, the captain motioned for Caleb Reger to step up, which he did, holding a Bible in his hand.
“Yesterday, I asked Caleb here to read a short Scripture passage each morning. As it turns out, this might be the best day to start,” the captain said.
“I agree that it is a good idea to get the Lord’s blessing.” Sally Rengler, Owen’s wife, wagged a finger. “But if you had done so on our first two days on the trail, Captain, perhaps that bear would not have attacked our camp.”
The captain removed his slouch hat and looked directly at her. “I can’t say I agree with your theology, ma’am. I’m not so sure reading Scripture will keep us from having to face trouble as much as it will focus our attention on our Help in those times. The Bible’s full of stories about folks with troubles. Good folks. God-fearin’ folks.”
Expressionless, Mrs. Rengler pulled her shawl tight.
“Caleb, you ready?”
Mr. Reger cleared his throat. With his glum expression, one might think he had been condemned to face a firing squad instead of a gathering of fellow travelers.
“Morning, folks.” He didn’t look up. “Like the captain said, he wanted me to read to you. Today, it’ll be Joshua 1:9: ‘Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.’ ”
The last word had barely left Caleb Reger’s mouth when he closed the Bible and stepped into the crowd. Anna watched him disappear behind the other trail hands.
Deliverer of chastisements. Entertainer of children. Protector against bears. Helper in the night.
Shy herald of God’s holy Word.
Caleb Reger was proving to be a bit of a marvel.
12
The reins slack in his hand, Garrett rode his black stallion up the line from the last wagon. Between the bear’s disruption of sleep and the Scripture reading, the Company was slow getting on the road this morning.
Oliver Rengler finished tucking the canvas cover behind the tailgate of their wagon and waved. “We’re ready, Captain.” His brother and sister-in-law were at the front of the team, pegging the bows to the yoke.
Garrett brushed the brim of his hat in a hello and kept moving.
“I appreciated the Bible reading, Captain.” Mary Alice Brenner waved as he rode past. Four-year-olds Thomas and Alice played tug-of-war with a rag doll at Mary Alice’s feet while seven-month-old Evie watched from the quilted sling suspended from her mother’s shoulder.
“Thank you.” He regarded the woman’s husband, who looked as if he’d swallowed a lemon whole. “Mornin’, Tom.”
“Captain.” Tom Brenner was always squinting, but this morning his whole face seemed involved in a scowl. “Just slows us down, if you ask me. Folks could be trusted to do their own readin’. If they choose to.”
Garrett pulled up on the reins and stopped for a moment. “You’re certainly trusted, my friend. It’s just that some like to be together with like-minded folks when the Word of God is read. I’m sorry you don’t approve of the delay.” Garrett waved and continued on his way, the snipping remarks between husband and wife fading into the background none too soon. Seemed judgment was more likely to come from within his own camp than from on high.
The Sunday service would be interesting with such a mix of folks. And most likely conducted without Tom Brenner present. Which was sure to be another source of contention between the couple.
Garrett had just ridden past the Kamdens’ Conestoga, greeting Ian and Rhoda, when he saw Caroline Milburn at the back of the farm wagon.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
She looked up, and he doffed his hat.
“Captain.” Did the young widow have any idea how distracting the single red curl on her creamy neck was?
Maisie darted toward them with her cloth bunny tucked under one arm. “If we play another game today, you can play too.” A wide-eyed smile lit her little round face.
“Thank you, Maisie.” He looked at the nanny, wondering how she’d feel about spending more time with him.
Moistening her lips, Caroline loosened the ties on her bonnet. “The captain may have work to do, Maisie.”
The green-eyed girl glanced up at his horse. “He can ride his horse while he plays the game.”
He chuckled. To a child, it probably seemed that was all he did. “We’ll have to see about that, Maisie. But I appreciate the invitation.”
Caroline clasped her hands. “Thank you for adding the Scripture reading to our morning routine.”
Nodding, he lifted the reins. “I hope it helps. All of us.”
“Be strong and of a good courage.”
Garrett felt as if Caleb had hand-picked the morning’s message just for him. The prowling bear was enough of a challenge for any caravan leader, but he knew from experience there would be more. Much more. He wouldn’t think about that right now. Not in the presence of such an intriguing woman.
He straightened in the saddle and brushed the brim of his hat. “Good luck with the game.”
Caroline nodded, a smile smoothing her lips and sending tingles up his spine as he urged the horse forward.
“Be strong and of a good courage.”
>
A good message for his heart too. Caroline Milburn wasn’t Corliss Huffington Cowlishaw. Corliss would never have ventured west, let alone signed on as a nanny and made up a game to entertain children. She would have called Caroline’s bouquet of mint a handful of weeds. No, the enchanting widow was not in the least like Corliss.
But neither was he like Phillip Milburn, a Union soldier, a fact that wouldn’t serve him as well.
As he rode past the Becks’ wagon, Camille Le Beau took long and quick strides toward him, one hand in the air. Her other hand held a lead rope with four horses following her. “Capitaine.”
“Good morning, Mademoiselle Le Beau.”
“We need to wait for my papa. He is not yet ready to depart.”
A sharp huff distracted Garrett, and he shifted in the saddle to look behind him.
Emery Beck had walked up to the back of his stallion and stood with his arms crossed. “His uppity horses got spooked.” His beady eyes narrowed. “I knew they’d be trouble.”
Garrett straightened, returning his attention to Camille Le Beau. “Is there a problem? Is it the horses?”
“Two of them have run off. Anna’s also. Papa and Monsieur Goben are searching.”
“I doubt the horses went far.” They were lucky only three of them headed for the hills, what with a bear and then all the pot banging and yelling in the night. “I’ll get a couple of men to help find them.”
“Merci, Capitaine. Mama and I will ready the wagon.”
When she turned away, he did too. Arguing with Emery Beck would be a waste of time. Hopefully, looking for the horses wouldn’t be.
“The LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
And when thou goest. The paraphrase was his.
“Captain, you are wrong to coddle that man and his daughter.” Mr. Beck’s voice would’ve carried in a gale. “And their high-strung horses.”
Garrett twisted in the saddle to answer over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready to pull out.”
No matter with whom thou goest.
