Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852

by Murata, Victoria

  “When will you do that, Da?” Conor asked.

  “As soon as I can, Conor. I’m going to talk to folks and visit the land office and find out where available land is located, and we can rent a buggy and drive around and take a look. How does that sound?”

  Kate hugged Michael and smiled. “We’re here! I can hardly believe it!”

  “We did it, Kate. We left Ireland and came across the Atlantic Ocean. We traveled three thousand miles from New York to Oregon over this vast country, and here we are near the Pacific Ocean in our new home. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He bent and kissed Kate soundly.

  Brenna smiled at her parents, delighted with their happiness. She looked across the meadow at Ben Hansson and his father setting up their camp. Soon, she and Ben would be married. She hadn’t forgotten his promise, and she reminded him of it frequently. It was only seven years since her family had left Ireland. Where would she be in the next seven years? She could hardly wait to find out.

  Later at dinner, Abel and Emily were deep in conversation.

  “I intend to make my claim for our land quickly,” Abel said as he cut into his steak.

  “What will we do with the land, Mr. Brown? I don’t see you as a farmer.”

  “No, I will never be a farmer!” he said contemptuously. “I will hire some hands to clear some of it and plant something profitable and easy to grow. After it’s harvested, I will use the money for another planting.”

  “And will we live on this land?”

  “Yes, after the house is built. My house will be the biggest around, a large colonial with a barn for the horses.”

  “It sounds like you’re becoming respectable, Mr. Brown.”

  He smiled cynically. “As far as appearances go, my dear, I will be very respectable. Money talks in a boomtown, and I intend to exert every effort to promote myself—with your help, of course. You will be my leading lady, and you will play your part to perfection.”

  “You must be planning to give up poker then.”

  “Not necessarily. There’s nothing wrong with a gentlemen’s game now and then. It’s a very civilized game—or it can be. Is something wrong with your food?”

  Emily had barely touched her dinner. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat, Emily. You’re too thin.”

  A few days later, Abel took Emily and made his claim for three hundred twenty acres of land a couple of miles out of town. It was heavily wooded, which was why it was still available so close to town. Farmers would rather have meadowland even if it were farther out.

  “I’ll have the land cleared and sell the timber. I already talked to a man who wants to work for me. He’ll hire a crew, and I won’t have to do anything except count the money,” he said with a satisfied smile.

  “You’re fortunate that you have the capital to hire help, Mr. Brown. Most of these farmers have little to nothing left.”

  “They’re simple dirt farmers. Next year, I’ll buy their land from them for a fraction of what it’s worth, and they’ll be happy to get rid of it.”

  Emily regarded Abel Brown’s smug expression. She made no comment, but she wondered how long his hiatus would last. “What goes up must come down,” her daddy used to say. When will you come down, Mr. Brown? she wondered.

  The Card Game

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Oregon City

  November, 1852

  It had been over a month since they had arrived in Oregon City, and Abel Brown had been busy. He had not only secured his and Emily’s three hundred twenty acres, but he had called in his I.O.U.s and was now in possession of an additional one thousand ten acres. The ones who were flat broke had claimed their land and signed the deeds over to him. Others had been able to borrow the money they owed from friends or relatives to pay him off. He laughed when he remembered the look of fury on Mrs. Warren’s face when her husband deeded his land to Abel.

  “You’re a monster, Mr. Brown!”

  “Everyone is entitled to their opinion, Mrs. Warren.”

  “What are we supposed to do now, after traveling all this way?”

  “That is none of my concern,” he replied, and turned and walked away. What did these people expect? He hadn’t twisted anyone’s arm when they joined his poker game. They came of their own free will. Now they had to pay the piper. He believed in consequences, and they simply had to face theirs. He gloated to Emily, who didn’t share in his satisfaction.

  “You’ve taken these people’s hopes and dreams, Mr. Brown. How will they survive?”

  “Come on, Emily, you don’t think for one moment that they would make it farming, do you? You can’t be that naïve.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I’ve studied people, Emily. I know how they think and why they do the things they do. I know what motivates them. I’ve found that people are really very selfish.”

  “And I suppose you’re not?”

  “Oh, I’m selfish, but at least I know that about myself. Most people are deluded. They want to believe they have high moral standards, but when it comes down to it, they’re just as low as the rest of us. These people thought they were going to get something for nothing. Now they have what they deserve—nothing!” He laughed at his joke.

  Emily stared at him. He was despicable. She liked nothing about him. She remembered a time when she thought he was handsome. Now that she saw who he truly was, there was nothing attractive about him.

  “Emily, the logging on our property is turning a profit already. Some of the settlers who have claimed their land are buying timber from me to build their homes.”

  “What about the ones who have no money?”

  “If the bank won’t lend them the money, I’m lending it to them—for a price, of course.”

  “What kind of a price?”

  “If they haven’t paid it back within two years, they forfeit their deed to me. That’s more than fair, I think.”

  “Two years! That’s hardly time for them to plant a decent crop. How can you expect them to repay you in two short years?”

  “They haven’t thought as far ahead as you have, Emily. They’re only thinking about getting a roof over their heads.”

  Later, they rented a buggy and drove out to their property. They watched the logging for a while, and then Abel drove her over to the site where the house would be built.

  “The construction on our home will commence soon. No simple log home for us; I’ve had plans drawn up for a colonial style house. I expect it will be grander than your house was in Ohio.”

  Emily thought back to the home where she had grown up. It was a beautiful house with six bedrooms, a dining room, a library that was also a study, a sitting room, a parlor, an enclosed sun porch on the back, and a wraparound porch in the front. The large kitchen at the back of the house was her favorite room. Mrs. Harris the cook was always baking something delicious, and she always let Emily help her. Emily sighed. She most likely would never see her home again.

  Abel looked out proudly at his land. By this time next year, he would be wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. He already had amassed a huge fortune in land and cash.

  “This is indeed the land of milk and honey,” he reflected.

  Captain Wyatt looked at his cards. It was a good hand, but he wasn’t sure it would be good enough.

  “Call,” he said. Jack Thompson looked at him from across the table and smiled. The others had folded, and it was just the two of them. Jack laid his cards on the table: a full house. Captain Wyatt looked at Jack for a moment and then placed his cards face up: two pair. Everyone laughed, and Jack scooped up the pot from the center of the table.

  “That’s it for me,” the captain said. He had won a few dollars and knew when to quit. The others got up also. Captain Wyatt knew there was a time and place for everything. He wasn’t opposed to gambling in moderation. He went to the bar and ordered a drink. Jack came up and sat beside him.

  “That was a good game, Captain. Do you play of
ten?”

  “Only when I’m winning,” Captain Wyatt replied.

  Jack laughed. He had an easy manner, but underlying that was a man who knew what he was about.

  “Where are you from?” the captain asked.

  “Most recently from California.”

  “How long you been here?”

  “I just got in this afternoon. I prefer California to Oregon in the winter, but I have a job to do and it’s brought me here.”

  “What line of work are you in?” Captain Wyatt asked curiously.

  “I’m a lawman, Captain. I’m looking for someone name of Chance Parker. Ever hear of him?”

  Captain Wyatt thought for a moment. “I meet a lot of people on these trains. Been doing this for a few years now, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard the name.”

  “He also goes by an alias. Ever hear of Luke Patterson?”

  “No, I’ve never heard of him.”

  “This man is a ruthless killer. He’s wanted in a few states, most recently in Kentucky. He gunned a man down in cold blood.” He reached into a pocket. “Here’s his picture on this wanted poster.”

  Captain Wyatt stared at the picture. He looked at Jack Thompson. The name on the wanted poster said Chance Parker, but the picture was of Abel Brown. The captain smiled grimly. It looked like he had been in the right place, and it was the right time.

  Reckoning

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The next morning, Abel Brown shaved, dressed, and left their room at the hotel. He didn’t tell Emily where he was going. He wanted to get to the bank as soon as they opened and check over his deeds that were stored in a safe deposit box. When he arrived, one of the tellers showed him to the private room where he could look over the contents of the box. He took the deeds out and checked them over one by one. All but one had been signed over to Emily and notarized. The only one under the name Abel Brown was his claim of one hundred sixty acres. He hadn’t wanted to put the deeds in Emily’s name, but he was worried about having them in his name, which wasn’t really his name. Abel Brown was an alias, and he didn’t want that to catch up with him down the road. He clearly couldn’t put the deeds in his real name, Chance Parker. No, having the deeds in Emily’s name was best. She was his wife; what she owned was his legally, and she never needed to know.

  He looked at the other document in the box. There was the precise script of Emily’s so-called mother on the envelope addressed to “Mrs. Ernest Hinton.” He smiled thinly. He had no fear that Emily would ever leave him. As long as he knew her secret, she would remain with him.

  Emily made her way to one of the tables in the café of the hotel. It was a small room next to the lobby with five tables. Only one other table was occupied by a couple having a lively discussion.

  Mrs. Ortiz brought Emily a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ortiz.”

  Emily took most of her meals here. The food was hot and nourishing, and Mrs. Ortiz was very kind to her.

  “You’re too thin, Miss Emily,” she would say, and she would bring Emily a special treat she had baked.

  Today Emily ordered biscuits and gravy instead of the usual eggs. While she waited for her food, she sipped her coffee and wondered what she would do today. Every day was much like the next. She spent her time reading her books and mending her clothes. All of her dresses were in various stages of ruin. She had bought yard goods at Mr. Weiss’s store, but she hadn’t had the motivation to begin a new frock. She couldn’t think of one reason why she wanted a new dress, so the material lay in the corner of their rented room. Buster had taken to making it his bed, and every night he scratched at it until he fluffed it up, and then he circled three times before he settled down. It would have made Emily laugh if she had felt anything but tired. Mrs. Ortiz came over with a thick slice of cinnamon bread.

  “Fresh out of the oven. Still warm!” She left the plate on the table, and Emily picked at it. It was probably delicious, but she couldn’t taste it.

  Soon, her food arrived, and Emily ate some of it. She was in the habit of taking what she didn’t eat up to Buster. He enjoyed her choices immensely. Maybe she would go up to the room and take a nap. It was still morning but she felt exhausted.

  Abel closed up the safe deposit box and indicated to the teller that he was finished. The teller put the box away, and Abel made his way out of the bank. It was a fine day, and he was going to rent a buggy and drive around to check out all of his new properties. Just as he stepped onto the boardwalk a voice said, “Hold it right there, Parker.”

  Abel froze at the sound of his real name. He turned towards the man who was holding a gun pointed at his chest. He saw a tall man with steel gray eyes under a wide brimmed black hat.

  “You can put your hands up nice and slow. My name’s Jack Thompson and I’m a United States Marshall.”

  “There must be some mistake. I don’t know who this Parker fellow is. My name is Abel Brown.” He was nervously watching Thompson who was handling his gun like he knew how to use it.

  “Turn around Parker. Easy now. Put your hands on that hitching post and spread your legs,” Thompson ordered. He quickly frisked Abel and found the small gun in his boot.

  “You won’t be needing this where you’re going,” Thompson said as he put Abel’s gun in his pocket. “Let’s go!” and he nudged Abel in the back with his revolver. He and Abel walked to the government offices, which served as a courthouse and a jail. There was a single cell, and this is where Abel would stay until Jack Thompson arranged their transportation back to California, and from there to Kentucky.

  Captain Wyatt had watched the arrest from across the street. Today was a day of reckoning, he thought, and he made his way to the hotel to inform Miss Emily.

  Emily was finished picking at her breakfast and had decided to return to her room when she saw Captain Wyatt from the window walking towards the hotel. She hadn’t seen him in over a month, and she wondered what his business was. He walked through the front doors, and when he looked to the left and saw her, he came over to her table.

  “Good morning, Miss Emily,” he said, removing his hat. “May I join you?”

  Emily tried to hide her surprise. He looked so serious! “Of course, Captain. What can I do for you?”

  Captain Wyatt was a man of few words and he didn’t mince them now. “Abel has just been arrested.”

  Emily gasped. “What? Why?”

  “He’s wanted in the States for murder. There’s been a warrant for his arrest, and a United States Marshal has tracked him here. His real name is Chance Parker.”

  “Abel a murderer!” Emily clutched her throat.

  “He’s in the government building in a holding cell. The marshal will take him back to Kentucky where he will stand trial for murder, and most likely hang. I’m sorry, Miss Emily.”

  “This can’t be right,” Emily said. The room began to spin. She tried to stand up but her knees buckled. Captain Wyatt caught her before she hit the floor.

  When Emily opened her eyes, she was lying on her bed and Mrs. Ortiz was leaning over her. Captain Wyatt was nowhere in sight, and Emily thought that she must have dreamed their conversation.

  “Are you alright, dear? You gave us quite a scare! That nice Captain Wyatt carried you up here.”

  Emily groaned. It hadn’t been a dream. Abel Brown—or whatever his name was—her husband, was a murderer.

  “Sit up, Miss Emily, and drink this.” Mrs. Ortiz gave her a glass of water. “You’ve had quite a morning. Captain Wyatt told me what happened. I never did like Mr. Brown, er, Parker. He was not a nice man!”

  Emily gulped the water. She was having a hard time taking in the information that Captain Wyatt had told her. She couldn’t think of what to do or who to turn to.

  “Is there anyone I can fetch for you, Miss Emily?” Mrs. Ortiz asked gently.

  “I don’t know. I can’t think.” Then her eyes cleared. “Wait. Would you please tell Nellie—Mrs. Mueller—Reverend Mueller’s wif
e at Mr. Weiss’s store that I need her?”

  “Of course, dear. You rest until I get back.” And she left Emily alone.

  Ten minutes later, Nellie was with Emily, who told her about Abel’s arrest.

  “That scoundrel! I’ve never trusted him! And to think he’s a murderer!” Nellie said vehemently. “That doesn’t surprise me, Emily. There was always something sinister about him. Where is he now?”

  “He’s in the cell in the government building. The marshal is going to take him to Kentucky to stand trial. They say he’ll hang, Nellie.” Emily shivered.

  Nellie glanced at her sharply. “You don’t have any feelings for him, do you Emily?”

  Emily looked horrified. “No! I have never in my life been as miserable as I have been in this marriage, Nellie. You have no idea what I have had to endure. And now to find out that he’s killed someone! I hope I never lay eyes on him again!”

  Nellie watched Emily carefully. A year ago she would have dissolved into tears. Now she was matter-of-fact and resolute.

  “Good. That’s the spirit. What are your plans, Emily?”

  “I don’t know, Nellie. I can’t think about that now. I know Abel paid our room and board here until the end of the year. Beyond that I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “You always have a home with us, Emily.”

  The two women hugged each other, and Buster jumped up and down happily.

  Discovery

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The next morning, Marshal Thompson visited Emily briefly. “Your husband has asked to see you. You can visit him if you’d like, but we’ll be leaving shortly for California.”

  “I have nothing to say to him, Marshal. I’m glad that you found him. It’s time he pays the consequences for his foul deeds.”

  “He’ll get a fair trial in Kentucky, Ma’am.”

  The marshal left, and Emily felt like she could breathe again. In the afternoon, she had a surge of energy. She cleaned the room from top to bottom. She was determined to get rid of all traces of Abel Brown. After she finished, she went to the wardrobe, took out his clothes, and laid them on the bed. These she would give to Reverend Mueller to pass on to someone needy. As she was folding Abel’s long black coat, she felt something stiff in the lining.