Flynn watched the men’s reactions. They nodded their understanding of what the wagon master said and seemed to accept him at his word. Flynn wondered how long their current camaraderie would last.
“Does anyone have any questions before we part?”
Again, heads shook negatively.
Except for Mr. Clarkson. He asked, “Who has watch tonight?”
Mr. Tucker nodded. “That’s a good question. I almost forgot. Jones, Greene and Miller have the first watch. Adams, Hart and McDougal have the second.” Again, his gaze found the eyes of each man that he’d just named.
Flynn nodded his acceptance of the assignment. He already knew that the second watch was from midnight to four in the morning. Being a lawman, he knew to take sleep where he could get it. There had been many a night that his job kept him awake all night.
The big man next to him slapped him on the back. “Looks like the two of us will be keeping the watch together.”
Flynn nodded. “I suppose we should get our children to their mas and give them the news.” He smiled. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Mr. Clarkson walked with Flynn as they returned to the wagons. “Would you like me to take your watch?”
It was nice of him to ask but Flynn refused. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine.”
“I just thought being newly wed and all, your missus might not be too happy about you getting the first night’s watch.” He took his hat off and rubbed his forehead. “I never did thank you for taking her in the way you did.”
Flynn stopped and looked at the man, unsure how to reply. He’d understood why Clarkson needed a second driver, but surely one more person traveling with them wouldn’t have been that big a hardship on the Clarksons. So why had they put her out like that? “Care if I ask why you did it?”
The old man shrugged. “Well, Dr. Shipman wasn’t exactly prepared to go to Oregon when I asked him to join us. But we didn’t have much time to get more supplies. I’m ashamed to say it, but we figured a slip of a girl wouldn’t eat much, and so I let the missus talk me into a new dress and hat when I should have used the money to buy extra rations.”
“Are you telling me you spent Cora’s money on a new dress and hat for your wife?”
He sighed heavily. “I reckon I am.”
Flynn shook his head. “So how were you going to feed her?”
“I’m a fairly good hunter.”
He didn’t much care for the whine in the older man’s voice. Flynn turned to return to camp but then stopped once more. “Doc didn’t bring any supplies with him? No food? No coffee?”
“Nope, and by the time we convinced him to join us, we didn’t have time to buy extra. The train would have left without us if we’d stopped to buy more supplies.” He continued walking. “Doc says he’ll help me replenish our supplies and buy his own supplies when we get to Fort Laramie.”
While joining the Clarksons’ wagon had been a last-minute decision, Doc had said that he’d planned to go on the wagon train with someone else. So why hadn’t he prepared any supplies? The lack of preparation seemed odd and not in line with what he believed to be the doctor’s character. Maybe he didn’t know the man as well as he thought.
* * *
Cora finished frying the bacon and placed it between two flapjacks. She had made such a mess of lunch that she wanted to sit down and cry. Cooking on a stove was so different from cooking over an open flame on the trail. Clearly, it would require lots of practice.
She would just have to face him and let him know that she’d tried her best. Even though the biscuits she had attempted to make were hard and burnt on the outside while still being doughy on the inside, the Millers’ dog thought they were great eating. She hadn’t given them to the dog intentionally; truth was, he had managed to steal some of the biscuits from the stump she’d placed them on to cool. She prayed Flynn wouldn’t be too upset at her meager, poorly made food offering.
Cora placed the flapjacks and bacon on top of a box where she could watch them and then straightened her back. Standing over a fire would take some getting used to also. Her lips tightened. She would learn how to cook on the trail just like she’d learned everything else in life. She might not have succeeded quite as she’d hoped, but she refused to be defeated.
She saw Flynn returning. He seemed deep in thought, with Noah turned to face outward, his little eyes taking in everything at once. Cora prayed Flynn would be distracted enough to not notice what a horrible campsite cook he had married. She quickly put two flapjack sandwiches on the only plate she could find in the wagon.
When he noticed her waiting for him, Flynn smiled. Cora couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. And when he smiled, she found it impossible not to return the gesture.
“I hope you like flapjacks and bacon.” She took Noah from Flynn and handed him the plate.
“Thank you. Have you eaten already?” Flynn sat down on the stump.
Cora didn’t want to lie to him, so she shook her head, then watched as he took the first bite. No matter how hard he tried, Flynn couldn’t hide the fact that this wasn’t his favorite meal. He chewed and chewed and then chewed some more. “You don’t have to eat it, Flynn. I know it’s not good.”
He swallowed. “No, it’s fine.” Flynn looked at the flapjack sandwich and took another bite. Again, he chewed for several moments before swallowing. “You’ll get the hang of cooking outdoors soon enough. If you want, I can even help you. I have a little experience with it myself.”
Cora felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. She should have tried the flapjacks before serving them to him. “I have more bacon, if you want to just eat that for now. I’ll ask Sarah for help. I’m so sorry, Flynn.”
He pulled the bacon out and bit into it. “This is good bacon,” he offered.
Martha walked up to their campsite, carrying a covered bowl. “Hi, Cora, Mr. Adams. Ma made extra bacon and beans for lunch and wondered if you would like them.”
“See, Cora, the good Lord supplies all our needs.” Flynn smiled at Martha and took the bowl. “Thank you, Martha.”
Cora felt her cheeks flame and silently vowed to herself to get the hang of cooking over the open flame so that no one else would have to take care of her family for her. Flynn had practically jumped at the chance to take the food. Cora chanted silently to herself, I will not cry, I will not cry. She cleared her throat and said, “Yes, thank you, Martha. I’ll bring your mother’s bowl to her in a few minutes.”
Martha nodded. “May I take Noah back to our wagon? I made some cornmeal mush for him and little Daniel. I think Daniel will eat his mush more happily if he has someone to share it with.”
She knew the mush she’d made was probably inedible, too. It sat beside the fire, thick and lumpy. Cora had planned to add water to it to try to thin and smooth it. She realized Martha was waiting for an answer. “Only if you have plenty.”
“Oh, we do. I made too much. Ma is teaching me how to cook, and I tend to make too much of everything.” Martha reached out for Noah, who went to her willingly. That was two people he seemed comfortable with. Flynn and Martha. At least she’d get a break every now and then. It had been one of the concerns that plagued her mind. To go from looking after only herself to a helpless baby depending on her twenty-four hours a day had been a lot to contemplate.
“Thank you, Martha, and be sure to thank your ma.”
Cora picked up the water bucket when Martha left. “I will be back shortly,” she called to Flynn, who was eating from the bowl Martha had brought.
She walked to the bank of the creek and sat down on the root of a giant tree. She closed her eyes, feeling utterly miserable. What was she going to do? Her cooking skills were horrible. She’d messed up both Flynn’s and Noah’s lunches. Her own stomach growled in hunger. Add to that a sense of complete loss over her sister’s death, and she felt herself
losing control.
Chapter Six
Flynn hadn’t been at the campsite when she’d returned from the creek. Cora lifted the water bucket and refilled the barrel on the side of their wagon. She ate the beans and bacon he’d left in Sarah’s bowl, gathered up the rest of the dirty dishes and washed them in a pan of hot water. At least she knew how to boil water, she thought bitterly as she finished drying the bowl Martha had left. Once her campsite was cleaned, she walked to the Philmores’ wagon.
Sarah looked up from her own dishwashing tub and smiled. “How are you today, Cora?”
She thought about lying and saying she was fine but knew that would not be the right thing to do. “I’m tired and the day isn’t half over.”
“I know what you mean.” Sarah handed a bowl to one of her daughters who was helping do the dishes. “But we’ll get used to this life soon and it will seem as if we’ve been doing this forever.”
Cora didn’t think she’d ever get used to the new life that stretched out before her for the next few months—and what about when it was over? She had no idea what she would do once she got to Oregon. Staying married to Flynn would be the best option for her, rather than having to figure out how to support herself and Noah on her own, but that wasn’t what they’d agreed on and it was too early to even think along those lines. She realized her quietness could be mistaken for rudeness and said, “Perhaps you are right.”
Sarah smiled. “Perhaps.” She motioned for Martha to join them. “Martha, keep an eye on the kids and lend a hand with the washing up while Cora and I walk down to the river.”
“All right, Ma.” Martha placed Noah inside a tent with another baby who Cora assumed was Daniel. Then she proceeded to help her younger sister finish the dishes.
Cora followed Sarah away from the wagons. She wondered why the older woman had summoned her but sensed it would be better to let Sarah get to her reason on her own time. Oftentimes in the past, the parent of one of Cora’s students would ask to speak to her, and she’d learned it was easier to wait them out and let them speak their minds instead of trying to coax information from them before they were ready to share.
“You must be wondering why I asked to speak to you,” Sarah began. She pulled a blade of grass from the ground and proceeded to shred it between her fingers.
Cora smiled. “It had crossed my mind.”
Sarah walked to a small grove of trees and leaned against one. “Please, don’t think ill of my Martha. She is curious, and while taking care of the baby before your wedding, she noticed that you and Flynn don’t have the supplies you need to make this journey.”
How could she respond to that statement? It was true—Mr. Clarkson had skimped on her supplies. They didn’t have the flour, sugar and some other things that they needed. Once she’d had a chance to inventory the supplies, Cora had also realized they were short. Now she understood why Sarah was sending food to their wagon. Martha had told her that they didn’t have enough. Cora had planned on talking to Flynn about their need this afternoon. “She’s right. We don’t.”
“What are you going to do?” Sarah’s face held the grimness that Cora felt.
She crossed her arms. “I’ll have to talk to Flynn first, but I expect we’ll pick up more supplies at Fort Laramie.”
“That’s a good plan. Do you have enough to get you that far?”
Cora nodded. “I believe so.” If she didn’t burn everything up.
“We brought plenty, so if you need anything, please feel free to ask,” Sarah offered. Her gaze searched Cora’s.
It was a very nice gesture of friendship that demonstrated the depth of Sarah’s kindness. “Thank you.” Cora sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Pride fought her need to ask for help. She didn’t want to confess that she didn’t know how to cook over an open flame. Women were supposed to know how to be good homemakers. Cora had always thought her mother was a natural at being the woman of the house. She seemed to know how to do everything and anything without having to ask anyone how. But if that was a natural trait, she had not inherited it from her mother. She was capable enough to get by in a real kitchen, but she didn’t have the kind of deeper understanding that would let her adapt her cooking techniques to this very new situation.
“Is something wrong?” Sarah pushed away from the tree and took two steps toward her, then stopped.
Cora released her bottom lip. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Many things in a woman’s life are. What is embarrassing to you today?”
Tears welled in Cora’s eyes. She swallowed hard. “I don’t know how to cook over a campfire.” The words sounded as if they had stuck in her throat before pushing their way out. Heat filled Cora’s face, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.
Sarah was at her side in an instant. “Oh, child. That’s nothing to cry about.” She tucked Cora into a tight hug. “Martha and I can teach you that. And since our menu is limited, there really isn’t that much to learn. You’ll be making biscuits and such in no time.”
Cora hadn’t been comforted in so long that she couldn’t stop crying. There were so many things to cry about. Her sister’s death, not knowing how to properly care for Noah, her fear that her brother-in-law would catch up to her and take the baby away, her anxiety over getting to Oregon and not being able to find work or shelter. So many doubts and fears that she couldn’t contain any longer.
Sarah gently led her deeper into the tree line and out of sight of the camp. “Come along, Cora. I believe you and I have a lot more talking to do.”
Cora found herself spilling everything to Sarah. Her sister’s death, her running from her brother-in-law, not knowing what to do to supply Noah with the nourishment he needed. The only thing she didn’t confess was that her marriage to Flynn was a marriage of convenience only—and one that would end once they reached Oregon. There was no way to share that without explaining Flynn’s reasons, and she wouldn’t betray his confidence.
“Please don’t tell anyone else that I’m not Noah’s mother,” she pleaded.
Sarah handed her a handkerchief from her apron pocket. “As far as I’m concerned, you are his mother. Nothing you’ve shared here today will go any further.” She waited for Cora to wipe her face and blow her nose. “I have a plan to help you and keep the other women from asking lots of questions.”
Cora searched her face. “All right.”
“Martha wants to be a schoolteacher. Last night at the dance, she talked to a girl who used to be one of your students—but she had to quit school and didn’t know that you’d gotten married and had a baby. Ever since she learned that, Martha has been working up the courage to ask you if you will teach her how to become a teacher.”
Cora hadn’t realized a former student was on the train. But they were a large group and she hadn’t really had time to interact with everyone yet. She could only be grateful it wasn’t a more recent student who would have questioned Cora’s identity as a widow and a mother when she’d been unmarried and childless just days before. “I’ll be happy to teach her what I know.” She felt giddy at the thought of teaching—of tackling something she actually knew how to do. She loved her work and had been saddened at the thought that her time of teaching was over. Knowing she’d be able to teach again, if only for a few months, gave her something to look forward to.
Sarah held her hand up. “You’re not going to make it that easy for her.”
Confused, Cora asked, “I’m not?”
Shaking her head, Sarah answered, “No, you are not. Her job will be to help you with Noah during the day in exchange for you going over lessons with her in the evenings, if that is acceptable to you.” Sarah crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
“But don’t you need her assisting you with Daniel and the other kids?” Cora didn’t want to take Sarah’s help from her.
A grin covered Sarah’s fac
e. “I do, but this is going to work for me, as well. Martha will also watch her brothers and sisters during the day while she’s watching Noah—plus teach them their school lessons.”
“That seems like a lot to ask of her,” Cora protested.
“Not really. She was going to be doing all of that anyway. All we are doing is adding one more child for her to watch and giving her training to help with the teaching tasks. You’ll have your days free to learn everything you need to know about how to manage your tasks on the trail without having to worry about childcare. And if your brother-in-law shows up during the day, Noah will be at our wagon, not yours.” She smiled. “How many students did you teach at a time?”
“Anywhere from ten to twenty a day.”
“And what ages were they?”
Cora allowed herself to go back in time and think about her students. It seemed as if she’d been out of her schoolhouse forever, but in truth, it had only been two days. “From five to eighteen.”
“The way I see it, Martha will learn what it’s like to teach children of several different ages at a time.” Sarah began walking back toward the wagons.
“But having two babies will make it harder on her.” Cora walked beside her.
Sarah nodded. “True, but Martha isn’t just training to be a teacher. Someday she will have a family of her own and she’ll probably have at least two young’uns to take care of once the older ones are ready for schooling. And more than likely they will be a year apart, unless she has twins and then they will be the same age.”
Just before they got back to the Philmore wagon, Cora admitted, “Sarah, I don’t know how to feed Noah. He needs milk that I’m not able to give him.”
Wagon Train Wedding Page 7
