“What is this?” she wondered as she opened the coat to the inside. A little searching revealed a secret pocket. She reached inside and pulled out a handful of bills—hundreds of dollars and more inside!
“Just like Abel not to trust a bank!” she muttered. “This must be his gambling winnings.” She had a momentary urge to throw it all out the window. She shook her head and pulled the rest of the cash from the coat. Then she carefully went through the rest of his clothing, but found nothing else. She counted up the bills.
“Seventeen hundred dollars!” She knew he had money, but he never told her how much he had or where it was. She fanned it out in her hands. This was more money than she had ever seen before. What would she do with it? That would take careful consideration.
Two days later, Emily received a letter from Michael Pound in Ohio. It had come on the last mail train in to Oregon City and had sat in the post office for two weeks. It was dated April 23, 1852.
“Mr. Pound, Daddy’s lawyer,” she mused as she opened the envelope. Inside she found a short note from Mr. Pound, and another letter. She read Mr. Pound’s note first.
April 23, 1852
Dear Emily,
You most likely have received a letter from Mrs. Lawton informing you of your father’s passing. I am deeply sorry. He was my friend and client for many years, and I will miss him. I read his will earlier this month, and it has taken me a few weeks to get his finances in order. Everything is detailed in the enclosed letter to you, which he wrote last year. He has entrusted me to make sure that his wishes are carried out, and I will do everything in my power to make this happen. Either I or a trusted colleague will deliver your estate to you next year when the trail is passable.
Until then I remain your trusted servant,
Michael Pound, Esq.
Emily was confused. What was Mr. Pound referring to? With shaking hands, she opened the larger letter from her father.
September 6, 1851
Dearest Emily,
If you are reading this, I am no longer of this world. Hopefully you are a mature woman and I died an old man.
There are some things I have to tell you and it is not easy. I had always hoped to keep you close to me, but I can see that Ernest is bound and determined to take you across this country to Oregon, and I have no power to stop him. This grieves my heart, and I can only hope that someday I will see you again.
Emily had to wipe the tears from her eyes before she was able to continue.
The woman you have always thought of as your mother is, in reality, your stepmother. Your real mother was a mulatto slave from my plantation in Virginia. Her name was Patricia. She was a beautiful and vibrant young woman, and I loved her. She died in childbirth. You survived, however, and when I first held you in my arms, I knew that you would always be my special little girl.
Emily’s tears were flowing freely now.
Then, imagine my amazement when a second child was born. Your twin is a boy who resembles me more than Patricia except for his dark skin. He lives with his grandmother in Virginia. I wanted to keep him also, but your grandmother had serious misgivings. She had been my house slave and my father’s before me for many years, and I respected her opinion. She knew I was planning on moving to Ohio, and that I would free the slaves I had in Virginia. She told me to take you and pass you as white. She said you would have the chance at a real life of privilege never known to anyone in all the generations of her family. She would take the boy and raise him. I regret to say that I did as she asked.
“A brother and a grandmother!” Emily marveled.
I set up a trust fund for him and for your grandmother after we parted. Mr. Pound is the executor. I have not seen this boy since his birth, and I have had no further communication with your grandmother. I don’t know what she has told him about his father and his twin. I thought to keep this to myself, but I think if I were in your position, I would want to know. I hope this is not too much of a shock, and that you will do with this information what you think best. The last address for your grandmother was: Mrs. Leticia Cross, Lynchburg, Virginia.
Finally, my estate has been divided in the following way: Your stepbrothers will inherit the farm with all the land, the house, and the property. You will inherit my investments and other assets. I have a small fortune in gold. Mr. Pound will apprise you of this when he gets everything in order. You have a good head on your shoulders, Emily, and I know you will invest this money carefully. I believe the sum will end up being around $500,000.
Emily almost dropped the letter. “Five hundred thousand dollars!”
I have recently told your stepmother about your real mother. I have not told her about your brother and grandmother. Mrs. Lawton was never a good mother to you like I hoped she would be, Emily. For this reason, I wanted to make sure that you would receive your fair share of the inheritance.
Please take care of yourself in the west. I do now and will always cherish you.
Your loving father
Emily read the letter a second and then a third time. Her head was spinning. How could her life take such a turn!
That afternoon she went to the bank and opened an account in her name. She deposited the $1700.00 from Abel’s coat. The young teller who was helping her had heard what had happened to Abel.
“I’m very sorry about your husband, Mrs. Brown.”
Emily murmured her thanks.
“Do you want to continue renting the safe deposit box?”
“Safe deposit box?”
He took her into the private room and left her with the box. Emily opened it and looked at all the deeds for land. Then she looked more carefully. All but one were in her name!
At the bottom of the box was a letter. She turned it over and saw that it was the letter her stepmother had written to her last April, safe and sound.
Epilogue
Two years later
Emily drove the buggy down Second Street to the Hanssons’ barn. Ben and Hans were doing a thriving business as father and son blacksmiths. With the recent wagon trains and the influx of new immigrants, business was booming.
“Hello, Ben,” she called when she saw him in the back of the barn working the bellows. He stopped his work to greet her.
“Emily, it’s good to see you. Where have you been the last couple of weeks?”
She climbed down from the buggy. “I’ve been working hard trying to get everything organized. I can’t believe the school will be opening next week. I’m so excited!” The school had been built a half mile from town in a quiet glen. It was two stories, and it had a bell to call the children to class. She had ordered books and slates from New York, and they had finally arrived. Everything was ready for the opening.
Ben wiped his brow with the back of his arm. “You’ve worked hard for this, Emily. I’m happy for you. Brenna’s in the back if you want to see her.”
“Thanks, Ben.” Emily walked behind the barn to a round corral where Brenna was working with a young horse. The filly was trotting calmly around the circle and Brenna was encouraging her. When she saw Emily, she walked towards the filly’s shoulder, and the horse stopped and faced Brenna.
“Good girl!’ She rubbed the filly’s nose affectionately. “Hi, Emily!” Brenna smiled, climbing out of the corral easily in her trousers. She had abandoned dresses for trousers and boots to work with her horses. Her dark hair was tied behind her neck in a ponytail that almost contained the wayward curls. She wore a man’s cowboy style hat to keep the sun off her face.
“Hello, Brenna. Are you busy?”
Brenna looked at the filly, which had put her head over the top rail. “I was just finishing up with July, here.”
“She’s beautiful! Was she born in July?”
“Yes, a year ago last summer. I bought her after she was weaned. She’s a sweetheart.” She gave the filly a kiss on her nose. “Come inside where we can visit.” They walked a short distance to a small house set back in the trees. Ben and Hans had purchased the ho
use on ten acres off Second Street in town. Then they had built the barn for their blacksmithing, and another barn behind it for boarding and for Brenna’s horses. The house was built from logs, and Brenna had made it very homey.
She took off her hat and hung it on a hook by the door. “Is the school finished?”
“Yes, and it’s beautiful. You have to come and see it!” Emily’s face was glowing. Her eyes danced with excitement.
“I want to definitely see it. Conor is excited about starting, and the Benson children can hardly wait. Sit down, Emily. Would you like coffee?” They were in Brenna’s small cozy kitchen. A fireplace covered one wall, and a pot hung over it with hot water. A wooden table stood against another wall, covered with a cheerful tablecloth. Soft yellow chintz curtains covered the two sunny windows. The dry sink was under a window with a view to the barns, and a cook stove adjoined it.
“I’d love some coffee. How are your folks? I haven’t seen them since the open house. Their house is wonderful. Your dad did a good job. The view is spectacular!”
“They are in seventh heaven! Conor and Da are planning to plant corn and wheat this spring now that the house is finished. Ma had such a huge vegetable garden that she could barely keep up. Her pantry is full of all the fruits and vegetables she put up, and she sold a lot to Mr. Weiss.
Brenna went to the cupboard and grabbed two cups. She poured coffee into them from the pot on the stove.
“Ben likes to keep the coffee on all day. He comes in now and then and has a cup. Tell me about the school.” She handed Emily her coffee and sat in a chair across from her. “I love how you used Abel’s gambling money to build it.”
Emily took a sip and put her cup down. “I knew I had to do something useful with the money—something to benefit everyone. The school will function as a town hall also, and since it’s my building on my land, I am on the town council.”
Brenna nodded approvingly. “How many children will start next week?”
“There are thirteen, and with the latest wagon trains the number will double I’m sure.”
“Thirteen?” Brenna marveled.
“The older children will most likely miss school in the spring and fall. They’ll be busy on the farms.” Emily paused and took a breath. “I need you to help me, Brenna. Would you consider teaching? You can take the little ones and I’ll teach the older children. What do you think?” Emily looked at Brenna expectantly.
Brenna was taken aback. She had never imagined herself as a teacher, not of children, anyway. She wondered how teaching children would differ from teaching horses.
Emily took Brenna’s hands in hers. “You’d be wonderful, Brenna. You’re so good with children. I’ll pay you whatever you want, and we’ll work together to make this a great school. Please say you’ll think about it!” Emily’s eyes were shining.
“I will. I’ll think about it, and of course I have to talk it over with Ben.” Her face flushed with excitement. “Oh Emily! I’m excited!” They spent an hour visiting and planning.
Emily left the Hanssons’ home in high spirits. As she climbed into the buggy and waved to Ben, she knew he wouldn’t object to Brenna’s teaching when he saw how excited she was. He would do anything for her. They had been married in June, and theirs had been the first wedding in Reverend John’s new church. She smiled when she remembered John showing her the plans for the church last fall. He had been so excited when she told him she wanted to fund his church. Nellie had hugged her and said she was an answer to their prayers.
She pulled up in front of Weiss’s store. George had ordered many of the things she needed for the new school. When she went inside, Rebecca and James were there picking up supplies. Nellie still helped out in the store, and she was visiting with the Cardells.
“Emily! It’s good to see you! We’re so excited about the new school!” Rebecca said, hugging Emily warmly. She was holding a three-month-old baby in her arms.
“She’s beautiful, Rebecca.” Emily smiled at the baby and she smiled back.
“Have your parents finished their house?”
“Almost. Dad and James are doing the finishing touches inside. It’s a big house, thanks to you and your donation of all the timber.”
Emily smiled. She had provided timber to many of the people who had been on the wagon train with her. John and Nellie had built the church with some of it. Ben, Brenna, and Hans had built their barns. “And your house? When will you start on it?”
Rebecca looked at James, and they both smiled. “That’s been put on the back burner for a little while,” James said. “This past spring I planted all of the seedlings Mr. Luelling gave me from his orchards, and that’s taken up all of our time.” He paused to tickle little Ruth who cooed happily. “Well, not all our time. This one keeps us busy too.”
“We plan on starting it in a couple of months,” Rebecca said. “Dad should be finished with theirs, and he can help us with ours until spring planting. In the meantime, we’re living with the family in the rented house.”
“How is Mary? I miss all of her stories!”
Rebecca laughed. “She’s started a little performance group. They’ve written a play and they rehearse in the barn behind the house. She’s the director, of course. She has a troupe of six, and they’re planning on putting on a show. You’ll have to come.”
“How wonderful! I’ll talk to her about putting on her play at the school.”
“Oh, she’d love that!”
After checking on her order with Nellie, Emily headed to the bank. When she walked in the front door, Mr. Moran, the bank president, hurried up to her. He was a small chubby man with round wire-rim glasses and a balding head.
“Miss Emily! So good to see you,” he said, taking her hands. Emily smiled. He had been overjoyed when Michael Pound had showed up with Emily’s inheritance and they had deposited it in the bank. Michael hadn’t brought all of her money. She remembered their conversation.
“Miss Emily, I thought long and hard about this, and if you disagree, I will bring the rest of your inheritance next year. I’ve left half of it in interest bearing accounts in eastern banks. Perhaps in a few years, when these western banks are insured, your funds will be safer. For now, I’m uncomfortable with their risk.”
She had agreed. Half of five hundred thousand dollars was still a fortune.
“There’s talk of the railroad extending to California. That will make these cross country trips shorter and so much easier.”
Mr. Moran said, “What can I help you with today, Miss Emily?”
“I’d like to carry on our discussion about what I’d like to do with some of my land,” she said. She had returned the deed to Mr. and Mrs. Warren, and they had been elated. Abel’s deed was forfeited, and she had quite a lot of land left in her name. Mr. Moran had helped her change her name back to Lawton, her maiden name.
“Of course, let’s go to my office, Miss Emily.”
Caliope, her mare, knew the way home, and Emily hardly had to touch the reins. Buster sat resolutely in the seat beside her. He had turned into a carriage dog, and she couldn’t go anywhere without him. It had been a long day, and she knew Caliope was looking forward to her rubdown and her dinner. Dan Christopher, her groom, would be waiting for them, and he would make sure Caliope was taken care of.
He lived in the quarters alongside the barn. He had been on the wagon train and had lost his wagon in a river crossing. He also owed Abel money from poker games. Abel had taken it out on Dan in backbreaking work, but Dan had never complained. He had a way with animals, and Emily had hired him to work for her.
As horse and buggy made their way down the long lane to her home, Emily looked at it with pride. It was beautiful. She had met with the architect shortly after Abel’s arrest and told him there would be some changes to the plans. There would be no colonial style. Instead, her home was a white wooden two story with a sun porch in the back and a wraparound porch in the front. Inside there was a dining room, a library with a study, a
nd a parlor and sitting room. The kitchen was in the back, and Mrs. Ortiz baked special treats every day. She smiled, remembering Mrs. Ortiz’s pleasure when Emily had asked her to be her housekeeper. Upstairs there were six bedrooms. The house was an exact replica of the one she had grown up in, and she loved it.
Soon she hoped to have her brother and grandmother from Virginia living with her. She had written to her grandmother, and she was hoping for a reply.
Her memories, the ones she chose to reflect on, were happy ones, but she didn’t spend much time in the past. She didn’t think much about the future, either. Her day-to-day life was too full and rich. Her overland journey had taken six months. She had met the people who were her new family. Her inward journey would take a lifetime, and she would meet it one day at a time.
Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 Page 24
