Annie came running back with a small can. Sarah took the tin can and smiled her thanks. “You shouldn’t give me this much, Annie.”
The young woman smiled. “It’s the least I can do. You and Cora have taught me so much. You’re the best friends I’ve ever had. Besides, I’m more of a coffee drinker. Tea is something that I never really acquired a taste for.”
Sarah laughed. “Well, thank you anyway. Why don’t y’all come with me and we’ll have us a small cup of tea before we have to start getting ready for bed. I’m sure I have coffee left that I can serve you, Annie. How ’bout it? Join me?” Sarah raised an eyebrow in question even as she reached an arm around Annie for a quick side hug.
The women chatted and laughed as they walked past the three wagons that separated Sarah and James’s wagon from Flynn and Cora’s. Though she’d be a happy lady to get off this train, Cora would miss the friends she’d made along the journey.
They walked up as Martha waved goodbye to a young man from a few wagons ahead. Her younger sisters sat in the dirt, each one with a tablet on their laps. Cora loved that she had a small part in teaching these kids, even if it was through Martha. She looked around for Noah. Not seeing him, she thought he and Daniel must be in the tent taking a nap.
She sat on the tongue of the wagon as Sarah put on hot water for the tea. Martha dipped into the tent, assumedly to check on the little boys. She returned quickly. Panic twisted her face as she said, “Noah’s not in the tent!”
Cora felt her heart slip into her throat. “What do you mean? Where is he?”
“He was sleeping in the tent with Daniel and now he’s not.” She ran to the other side of the wagon, calling Noah’s name.
“Get up, children. Find Noah.” Sarah’s command sank into Cora’s fuzzy mind.
She ran to the next wagon and asked the two ladies there, “Have you seen Noah?”
Shock filled their features as they shook their heads no. “We’ll help you look for him.”
“Thank you.” Cora ran back to Sarah, hoping she’d had better results, but no one had found him.
“Go, go.” Sarah pushed her away. “We’ll shoot into the air if we find him. Martha is headed to the river. The kids are searching behind us. Go frontward and ask if others have seen him.”
Cora’s heart beat frantically as she ran from wagon to wagon, asking if anyone had seen her baby. Smothering a sob when one after another they shook their heads no, she began to shake as fearful images built in her mind.
She saw Flynn and ran straight into his arms. “He’s gone, he’s gone,” she wailed. Cora buried her face against the corded muscles of his chest. His arms encircled her, drawing her closer. Flynn would find him, she told herself even as she tried to control her weeping.
“Who’s gone, Cora? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm as he slid his hands along her arms and pushed her gently so he could see her face.
“Noah is missing. I can’t find him.” The terror of losing him swept through her, and it seemed as if darkness closed in around her. Cora felt herself slide down Flynn’s body. She told herself that she couldn’t faint now, not when Noah needed her—but the darkness took her anyway.
* * *
“Cora?” Flynn’s breath caught in his throat as he carried her limp body back to their wagon. “Sweetheart, wake up.”
She opened her eyes, confusion racing across her features for a moment. Then she seemed to remember Noah and began to struggle. “Set me down, Flynn. I’m all right.” Her dark eyes showed the tortured dullness of disbelief. “We have to find him, Flynn. I can’t lose him, too.”
“We’ll find him. He can’t have gotten far.” He spoke with quiet but desperate firmness while his mind played over all the things that could happen to a little fellow unchaperoned. Especially one who had been crawling everywhere lately.
“I have to get back to Sarah’s wagon. Maybe they’ve found him.”
Flynn knew she didn’t believe that, but he hurried along beside her back to the Philmores’ camp. His mind raced with all the horrible things that could have already happened to the baby. His heart wrenched at the thoughts. The oxen could have trampled him. He could get bitten by a snake. If he made it to the river, he might have fallen in.
When they got back to Sarah and James’s wagon, Flynn forced his lips to relax. He hoped that if he looked calm it would comfort Cora. “Stay here with Sarah and I’ll round up some men. We’ll spread out a few feet apart and cover every inch to the right and left of us.” He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” He prayed fervently that he was right.
He looked to Sarah, who nodded her understanding that Flynn wanted her to watch over Cora. There was no telling what the young mother would do if the search for Noah ended in tragedy. He gave them both a quick nod and then went in search of the wagon master, gathering men as he went.
As they continued to look late into the evening, icy fear twisted around his heart. He had come to love that little boy as if he were his own. He took a swift, sharp breath. Noah was his. He couldn’t lose him.
A shotgun blast split the sounds of the evening. Flynn’s mind was a mixture of crazy hope and fear. His legs shook as he took off in a run back to the wagon. He ran to the place he’d left Cora, and there she sat, Noah clasped in her arms, a trembling smile on her face. His gaze traveled over her and Noah, and then searched her eyes. She held out a hand to him and it was all the invitation Flynn needed. He went onto one knee, his arms of their own will encircling Cora and Noah, thankfulness flowing from his lips. “Thank You, Lord. Oh, how we thank You.”
Cora kept nodding and repeating his words. “Yes, Lord, we so humbly thank You.”
“Where did you find him?” he blurted in excitement.
“Right over there.” Cora nodded with her head. By then, a crowd had gathered round them and Flynn noticed Martha hanging back with tears of joy and relief streaming down her young face. It seemed everyone loved little Noah.
“He’d crawled up under that bush. Who knows what he was following, but thankfully, he was too tired to press on and went to sleep. The Millers’ dog found him and started whining to get our attention. When I went to investigate, I found Noah curled into a ball, sound asleep.”
They spent the next twenty minutes or so thanking the others, assuring Martha she was not to blame and passing Noah back and forth between the two of them. Flynn realized he didn’t want to let Noah out of his sight and apparently Cora felt the same, because Flynn was the only person she allowed to take Noah from her.
They walked to their wagon, Flynn’s arm around Cora’s shoulders. She didn’t pull away. A near tragedy had etched gratitude into their relationship. Flynn wondered briefly if this was the change he’d longed for the last few months. Satisfaction pursed his mouth and he felt his smile broaden in approval.
Chapter Fifteen
A soft noise on the side of the wagon pulled Cora from a deep, restful sleep. She fought against the need to wake up, since it was not a cry from Noah. She burrowed deeper under the blanket, refusing to look up to see what sound she had heard. But to no avail. She lay quietly for a moment listening to the sounds around her. It was probably just a limb from the tree they’d camped under rubbing against the canvas.
Cora could tell it was earlier than she usually woke, but thoughts rushed in of all she needed to do today. Besides fixing breakfast, getting the baby fed and clearing up their camp space before they hit the trail, she needed to trade or barter for heavier clothes for herself and Noah. The nights were getting chillier as they drew closer to Oregon.
On that happy thought, Cora decided it was time to rise. Careful not to wake the baby, she climbed out of the wagon and stretched the stiffness from her muscles. How she wished they had a mattress like other people on the train—but she knew they were better off traveling as lightly as possible.
&n
bsp; Every wagon had started with at least two oxen, but some of the beasts had simply worn out from the burdens they were pulling or gotten into poisonous weeds and died. Thankfully, their oxen were still healthy. Flynn had said it was because their wagon was light, and he and Joe were careful to check the grasses where they grazed along the trail.
Not fully awake yet, she yawned widely. The full moon almost touched the horizon and gave her plenty of light as her gaze moved about the camp. It wouldn’t be long till dawn chased the beautiful orb from the sky. One thing was for certain: on this trip, she had seen more beautiful country, experienced more fresh air and lived off the land more than she’d ever had in her life. It had been an unforgettable experience.
She walked around the side of the wagon to the water bucket. Her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with the dirt and grime she’d breathed in during their long journey. Cora lifted the dipper and took a long drink. Would she ever not feel as if she needed to wash the dust out of her mouth, nose and ears? She rubbed her eyes; even her eyelashes felt gritty.
Cora looked into the sky and found the Big Dipper. She thought of the Indian encounter that Flynn had shared with her and Joe last evening. He and the wagon train scout had gone ahead to inspect the trail and to learn what dangers lay ahead for them. The excitement in Flynn’s voice and the movements of his body and hands as he told of the buffalo hunt and the large bull buffalo showed how much he’d enjoyed his day of scouting.
Cora had heard tales from the other ladies about the different tribes along the Oregon Trail that they could encounter. She’d convinced herself that they wouldn’t run into them. She had been wrong. Flynn had met them and even saved one of the young braves. Pride grew in her heart as she thought about how heroic Flynn had been, putting his horse between man and beast.
She was grateful that the Lord had watched over Flynn and Levi and kept them both safe. Things could have gone badly, according to Flynn, if the buffalo bull had decided to continue charging toward him.
Another yawn reminded her it was too early to stay up. Just as she put her foot up to climb into the wagon, Cora noticed what looked like a pile of furs beside the right front wheel of the wagon. Chills covered her arms as she realized she was not alone. Cora raised her gaze from the furs and spotted an Indian woman who stood within a foot of her beside the wagon. The woman placed her finger over her lips and motioned toward the furs.
Cora looked about to see if anyone else were awake. Seeing no one, she walked toward the furs, all the while keeping her gaze on the Indian woman. Was Joe still under the wagon? Or had he left sometime during the night?
Moonlight illuminated the woman, who looked to be in her late twenties. Her black hair was pulled into a thick braid that trailed down her back like a rope. She wore a beautiful beaded dress that came about midcalf and then met a pair of leather boots. The woman indicated that Cora should lift the top fur.
Cora did as she asked and was surprised to see that the top fur was actually a cover flap for a bag made of furs. She looked to the woman once more.
She indicated that Cora should dig in the bag, and Cora obeyed. Inside was another bag made from a smoother animal skin that held fresh meat, and below that bag were what looked like more packs of dried meat. She looked to the woman and asked quietly, “For us?” When the woman didn’t respond, Cora pointed to herself and then the meat and repeated her question.
The Indian woman nodded and smiled. Pretty white teeth flashed against her caramel-colored skin.
Cora’s gaze caught a slight movement to her left. An Indian man stepped out of the shadows. He stood straight and tall under the nearest tree, with his arms crossed over his chest. His hard gaze seemed to look right through her. Had he been there before?
Cora quickly glanced around again. She wanted to call out to Flynn, but he was away on guard duty. She considered and then discarded the idea of calling to Joe, not wanting to risk the boy getting hurt. Joe would be no match for the warrior, in strength or experience. The warrior took a step back as if he could read her mind. It seemed he wanted to reassure her he was no threat.
The woman moved silently forward and touched her arm. Cora’s gaze jerked to her face. She smiled as if trying to reassure Cora and extended a pair of shoes, small enough for a baby. Cora took them and realized they were moccasins. She examined the fine craftsmanship of the leather. How did the woman know that Noah was in need of shoes? Cora raised her head with a smile of thanks, but both the Indian woman and man had slipped away into the darkness.
“Are you all right, Cora?” Joe dropped his hand on her shoulder.
She jumped at both his touch and the sound of his whispering voice so close to her ear. How long had he been standing behind her? Was he the reason the Indian man had revealed himself? Cora took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she scolded herself for not looking around more carefully. She made a mental note to be more aware of what was behind her. “I’m fine, Joe.”
He placed his hand under her elbow and moved Cora back inside the circle of wagons. “Why don’t you go back in the wagon and try to get some sleep?” Joe suggested.
Cora saw he held his rifle at the ready. She smiled at him. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t sleep another wink. How about I make a fire and start the morning coffee?” Afraid he might go after their visitors, she asked, “Would you sit with me until Flynn returns?”
Joe nodded but kept his gaze focused on where the Indian man had stood. “I’ll get the bundle they left for you.”
“Thank you.” Cora began making the fire. She still had warm coals from the night before, so the process was much easier than if she had had to start out with a cold firepit.
Joe brought the fur bag and set it down. It was much bigger than she’d first realized. “What do you think that was about?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as if expecting more Indians to come into their camp.
“It probably had to do with Flynn and Levi helping them yesterday. I think this is their way of saying thank you.” She put the coffeepot on the grate to heat up and sat down on one of the three crates. Cora looked at him. “How long were you standing behind me?”
He grinned. “I was at the front of the wagon when you came out. I had heard something and was investigating when you saw the Indian woman. Her friend and I spotted each other right away, but with both you ladies between us, I didn’t dare fire the rifle. I hope you weren’t feeling too afraid.” He sat down, facing the woods that surrounded the wagons.
Cora didn’t tell him she’d thought he was asleep under the wagon; that would have hurt his pride. “I knew you were close by. I just didn’t know where. I’m glad you were behind me and I’m glad you didn’t shoot him. Thank you for watching out for us.”
Joe shook his head. “I wouldn’t have shot him, unless he did something to threaten you or Noah. Pa says all human life is important and we need to respect it.” He paused. “Honestly, I hope I never have to use this gun on anyone. I’m not sure I could live with myself if I killed a man.”
She understood how Joe felt. Her thoughts went to the killer in their midst. Thankfully, he hadn’t attacked any of the women on the train. While she hoped he would do something that would allow Flynn to identify and capture him, Cora prayed he wouldn’t reveal his true colors by harming any of the women on the wagon train. She almost smiled at her line of thoughts. Reading mystery novels caused one to suspect everyone. There was no proof that Flynn’s killer was even on the wagon train.
An hour later, the rifles went off, alerting the wagon train it was time to rise and get ready for another day of traveling. Cora knew Flynn would be back and in need of coffee and hot food to get him going. She didn’t know how the men could stay up half the night and go again the next day.
Joe excused himself. He took the water bucket down from the side of the wagon. “I’ll fetch the water this morning, Cora.”
She could tell he t
hought the Indians might still be lurking about. She decided not to argue. “Thank you, Joe.”
As soon as he stepped over the tongue of the wagon and headed across the meadow, she pulled a packet of the fresh meat from the furs. The meat was steak-cut and Cora knew just how she would prepare it. She crept into the wagon so as not to wake Noah and took the spices from the crate. There was garlic and black pepper and even onion powder. She all but rubbed her hands together.
Most every morning, they could smell the savory meats from around the camp from other families’ hunting successes, but all she and Flynn ever had was leftovers from the night before, usually corn or tater cakes. Flynn seemed so intent on spending as much time as possible with the other men on the wagon train, fixing wagons, doing guard duty and scouting with the scoutmaster, that he hadn’t done any hunting. She’d almost asked him to do so a time or two but then realized it was more important for him to search among the camp for a killer than to hunt. After all, they weren’t starving. But this morning, there would be steaks to go along with their tater cakes. She prepared the meat with seasoning and placed them in the pan over the grate. She added a cup of water since the meat was dried, then put the lid on top and added a bit more kindling to get the fire hotter.
After a few minutes, Joe returned with the water. “Are those buffalo steaks I smell?” He licked his lips in anticipation while placing the water on the sideboard of the wagon.
Cora grinned. “I believe so. I’m sure Flynn will know for sure.” She wrapped the remaining steaks up and handed them to Joe. “Would you take these to your ma?”
Disappointment showed on his face as he took the uncooked steaks. “Yes, ma’am.”
He started to walk away.
Cora didn’t even try to hide her grin when she called after him. “Oh, and, Joe, hurry back or your steak will get cold.”
Wagon Train Wedding Page 15
