Where the Heart Is Romance Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Mamadele had called the trip to Oregon a grand adventure. Polly frowned. Her grand adventure had turned into endless days of walking, choking on dirt from the wagons, and being lonely. Since she traveled with the Bentz family, she really wasn’t alone, but Polly was the outsider, just the midwife’s apprentice. Oh, Idella Bentz had never called her such, but Polly could see the worry in the soon-to-be mother’s eyes.

  At the end of each day, thanks to Mamadele’s journal and the sketch paper she’d brought, Polly found relief from the endless travel. The soothing sounds of the oxen, cattle, and horses also gave her comfort as she read or sketched in her small tent at night. Thanks to her little mule, Beulah, Polly was able to ride some days. When she was walking, Beulah gently pushed her from behind, often with Luke Bentz sitting on Polly’s hip. At first the men had protested the small mule being with her, but Mr. Bentz had put a stop to their grumbling. For that, Polly was thankful.

  According to Mr. Bentz, they should arrive at the new Fort Kearney by nightfall. Polly prayed it would be so. Her feet hurt and she was tired. If Idella didn’t need her so badly, Polly would have already turned around and ridden her little mule home.

  “Polly, would you mind carrying Luke for a while?”

  Polly stopped at the sound of Idella’s voice. Just last night she’d read Mamadele’s words: Be an even, stable influence, never cheery one day and morose the next. She forced her face to relax and smiled. Idella’s face was thin and pale beneath the blond bangs that escaped from under the stiff brim of her brown bonnet. She wasn’t that much older than Polly but already had one child and another on the way. That she was in discomfort was plain in her taut face and posture. “Of course. You shouldn’t be lugging him about.” She offered a smile to take the sting out of her words.

  “I know. But he’s restless, and I can’t continue to struggle with him in this heat up on the seat. I’m fearful he will fall under the wheels of the wagon like the Smith boy did last week.” Tears filled Idella’s tired eyes.

  Again the words from the journal filled Polly’s mind. Be reliable. Your patient must know you will be there fully when needed, so be faithful in the small things. She placed Luke on her hip and then reached with her free hand to pat Idella’s shoulder. “Don’t fret, Idella. I’ll watch Luke as if he were my own. Go back to the wagon and rest.”

  “Thank you, child.”

  Child. The term angered Polly and at the same time reminded her that she’d only recently turned seventeen.

  Idella waddled back to the wagon. Polly captured her lower lip between her teeth. Idella was larger than she should be at five months, and yesterday she’d confided that the baby seemed much more active than little Luke had been at this stage. Polly suspected that Idella carried more than one baby.

  The sick, hollow feeling she’d been fighting for days filled her stomach. Could she be a midwife without Mamadele to help her? Why had she agreed to continue on with the Bentzes to Oregon? What if Idella died in childbirth, like her own mother had? If she did die, what would happen to Luke and the baby—or babies—should they live? Would Mr. Bentz abandon his children, like her father had her?

  Polly took a deep breath. Her fate had been decided the moment Jerome Schmidt broke his leg and married her Mamadele. They’d sent her packing, never giving her the chance to think about what her new life would be like. Polly knew she was being unfair; it had been her own idea to continue on without them. Still, now, when she felt so alone, it was easy to blame them.

  She blinked to clear her vision and focused her attention on the last-minute rush of activity to block out the hurt and fears. Women and children hurried to finish packing their wagons, men finished checking the yokes on their oxen, and whips snaked over the backs of the teams that were already prepared. The line began forming.

  “Haw, Max! Haw, Ruby!”

  The command drew her gaze from the rest of the camp. Mr. Bentz walked alongside his oxen. They leaned into their yokes and moved forward. Idella waved from the bench as their wagon fell into line with the others. Luke waved back.

  Polly placed one foot in front of the other. After a little while the boy settled down and leaned his head on her shoulder. Within a few more minutes, he sucked his thumb and closed his eyes. Polly smiled, even though inside she felt like crying as dust and dirt coated their faces and her feet began to burn. Silently she prayed, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  Gordon Baker stopped Rawhide at the edge of the knoll, rested his hands on the pommel, and studied the wagons rolling across the plain and toward the fort. The large mule under him brayed. He reached forward and patted her neck.

  “What do you think, ole girl? Is that the one?” He eyed the wagons as they circled up near the fort.

  The mule bobbed her head as if to say, “Sure, why not?” Gordon laughed. He closed his eyes and silently asked the Lord the same question. Deep in his soul he felt that familiar pull of direction. Yes, this was the correct wagon train. Gordon knew it was headed to Willamette Valley. He gently tapped Rawhide’s side and started down the small incline toward the fort.

  Halfway across the plain he noticed a woman with a little boy settled on her hip. A small mule butted her back, and a purple bonnet shaded her face from his view. Her shoulders were slumped, and looking at her posture, he was sure she would drop at any moment.

  He turned Rawhide and headed in her direction. When he came close enough, Gordon smiled and offered assistance. “Would you like some help, ma’am?”

  The little boy hung on her much like pictures he’d seen of monkeys hanging on to their mothers. The boy giggled and tried to scramble free.

  She raised her head. Tired hazel eyes looked up at him. A smile was painted on her full lips. She seemed much too young to have a child. “No, thank you. Luke’s mother will be here in just a moment and she’ll take him then.”

  Gordon enjoyed the silkiness of her honey-sweet voice and found himself offering more assistance. “What about your mule? Would you like some help with her?”

  “No, thank you.”

  The smoothness was now gone from her voice, and a sting much like a honeybee’s pierced through the silkiness, leaving no doubt she was annoyed. Gordon looked into her eyes. They no longer looked tired but hard and unrelenting. Her lips now were pulled into a thin line. “Then I will take my leave of you. Good day.”

  Gordon rode into the fort and sighed. It was too bad the woman’s disposition didn’t match her beauty.

  Chapter 2

  Gordon slid off the mule and turned it into the small fenced-in corral. He couldn’t get the hazel-eyed woman off his mind. Judge not, lest ye be judged, circled through his thoughts. His first impression had been one of a bitter woman, but what did he know about her? Nothing.

  Since they were going to be traveling with the same wagon train, he’d need to be more patient with her. After all, she was probably just tired from the long journey. The boy on her hip was a chubby little lad; toting him all the way from wherever their jumping-off point had been would certainly be wearisome for anyone. He made the decision to try harder not to judge others. Thank You, Lord, for reminding me to watch my thoughts about my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.

  “Hey, Reverend!” A young boy ran up to him. “Did you see the new wagon train that just pulled in?”

  He ruffled the boy’s blond hair. “Sure did, Daniel.”

  Daniel climbed on the log fence and stood on the lowest log. “Think you might join up with them?”

  Gordon nodded. “I believe so, Daniel.” He rested his arms on the top rail and looked out at the mules.

  “Did the Lord tell you it was all right?”

  Gordon looked down at the ten-year-old boy. “Yes, He did.”

  “Did He say I can come with you?”

  Gordon had known the question was coming, and he really wanted to tell the boy yes. But the truth of the matter was God had been silent when he’d asked Him that very same question. “Not yet.”
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  Daniel jumped down from the fence. He lifted sky-blue eyes and choked out, “I was hopin’ He’d let me come with you.” Shoulders slumped, he walked away.

  During his three-month stay at the fort, Daniel had become Gordon’s constant companion. The boy had shared his parents’ dream of going to Oregon and starting a farm. He’d told Gordon how they’d been swept away by one of the many rivers they had passed through. But it was the commander of the fort who told how one of the families had taken the boy in and then abandoned him when their train left the next morning.

  Gordon laid his forehead on his arms and prayed. “Lord, if it be Your will for me to take the boy with me, please supply a way.” He looked up to find the fort commander standing beside him.

  “So you’re leaving in the morning with the wagon train, huh?” The commander chewed on the end of an unlit cigar.

  “If they will have me.” Gordon pushed away from the fence and stood a little taller. He respected the man in front of him.

  The commander was an older man with a gray beard and eyes the color of coal. His uniform was always crisp and clean, but what impressed Gordon was the man’s esteem for his men. He never asked them to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself.

  “Will you be stopping by the hospital before you leave?” He chewed the cigar, and his eyes bored into Gordon’s.

  As far as Gordon knew, there were no sick men at the hospital right now. Had the wagon train brought in sick or injured folks? “I will if I’m needed.”

  “I asked Doc to make up a box of medical supplies for you to take along. If there is a doctor among the immigrants, you can give it to him. If not, you’ll have to use them to the best of your abilities.” The commander took the cigar from his mouth and tucked it into his front pocket. Then he extended his hand to Gordon.

  Gordon smiled as he shook the commander’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “You be careful on that trail, Reverend. I’ll look you up as soon as my tour of duty is over.”

  Gordon pulled the man forward and pounded him on the back. “I’ll be looking for you, John.”

  The men separated, and John nodded. “Don’t worry about the boy. I’ll see that he’s taken care of, should the good Lord see fit for him to stay behind.” He turned sharply on his heel and walked away.

  Gordon sighed. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be to leave the fort. His gaze moved to the hospital and Sutler’s store. They were wooden buildings, not very pretty on the outside but much nicer on the inside than the mud buildings that housed the soldiers.

  As he entered the hospital, he heard a lowered female voice. “So as long as things go right, it will be like a normal birth?” Her voice sounded familiar.

  Gordon stopped just outside the doorway and waited. He didn’t want to interrupt the doctor and his patient. For a brief moment, he considered leaving the hospital and waiting outside, but then the doctor spoke again, catching and holding his attention.

  “Much the same. The second baby will come shortly after the first. Do you have someone you can pass the first baby off to?”

  Her voice sounded uncertain. “I’ll see if one of the other women can be present. Of course, I have no idea what the conditions will be on the trail when the babies come.”

  Was that the voice of the woman he’d spoken to earlier? The one with the chubby little boy? From the sound of things she was expecting twins. No wonder she’d been cross.

  The doctor’s voice grew louder, as if the two were walking toward him. “I’m sure you will do fine, Miss Schultz.”

  Miss Schultz? Was she an unwed mother? Surely the doctor had said Mrs. Schultz?

  Polly rounded the corner and found herself stopping abruptly as she came face-to-face with the stranger who had offered her assistance earlier. What was he doing here?

  “I’ll be right with you, Reverend.” The doctor placed his hand in the small of her back and said, “If you think of any more questions, feel free to stop by again before you leave.”

  Reverend? Reverend? The word screeched through her mind with the sound of a squeaky wheel.

  Polly nodded, never taking her eyes off the cowboy who had moved aside to let her pass. What reverend wore a Stetson hat, had eyes the color of sapphires and a firm jaw with short whiskers that gave him a hardened criminal look?

  Just before stepping through the door, Polly remembered her manners. “Thank you, Doctor, for your advice.” She turned and her gaze connected with the reverend’s over the doctor’s shoulder.

  “You are most welcome, Miss Schultz.” The doctor smiled at her and nodded before closing the door.

  She’d thought the reverend was a scoundrel when he’d offered help earlier. The man had been riding a mule and had been covered in trail dust. What must he think of her? She’d been rude. Polly shook her head. It didn’t matter what he thought. They’d be leaving in the morning, and she’d never see the man again.

  Chapter 3

  Polly set her sketch paper on the blanket beside her. She ignored the face that looked up at her from the paper. To keep her mind off him, she focused on the fort that bustled with activity. Men, women, children, Indians, and soldiers entered and exited the stronghold. What was it about the reverend that had her sketching his face and looking for him in the hustle and bustle of the fort?

  She shoved the paper into the tent and then stood to go check on Beulah. The Bentzes had gone to the store, leaving Polly to sketch to her heart’s content. She’d already written in the journal about the fort and had even sketched it.

  Polly’s heart ached with longing for Mamadele. Reading the journal today didn’t ease the loss of the only mother she’d ever known. She smiled at the young man keeping watch over the horses and mules. Beulah came running to her.

  “Are you going to take her for a ride, Miss Polly?” He brushed dark-brown hair off his brow; then his gaze darted to the ground.

  Mark Calhoun was nice enough, but Polly couldn’t see herself with the shy young man. He reminded her of Sam, the boy back home who had been her friend. “No, but I will take her for a stroll, if that’s all right.”

  “I’m sure it is, as long as you stay close to camp.” At her nod he continued, “It still amazes me that that mule will follow you around like a dog.” He offered Polly the rope that he’d slipped over Beulah’s neck.

  The rope wasn’t needed, but Polly understood the young man’s use of it. Most mules were cantankerous, but not Beulah. Polly smiled at him. “Thank you.” She scratched Beulah’s ears and patted her neck.

  As she walked away, Mark called, “See you.”

  Polly waved at him and continued walking. A path led to the river, and she followed it. She could still see the fort, so she felt safe in leaving the camp behind. The sound of water running greeted her as she drew closer to the river.

  The little mule gave her a nudge in the back. “I hear it, too.” Beulah gave her another push. “Stop shoving—I’m going.” She smiled over her shoulder at her companion, the only breathing connection she had to home and Mamadele. Lord, please keep Beulah safe as we journey to Oregon. I need her.

  Beulah drank deeply from the river. Polly sat down, pulled her knees up, and sighed. After several long moments of listening to the water run over the rocks, she laid her head on her knees. What had the reverend been doing at the doctor’s? Was he sick? Did he know and care about someone who was sick?

  “Do you mind if I throw rocks into the water?”

  She looked up to find a young boy with blue eyes, crooked teeth, and wheat-colored hair looking down on her. “No, go ahead.”

  “I’m Daniel Carter.” He tossed a stone into the water.

  “Is that the best you can do, Daniel Carter?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Polly stood, picked up a smooth stone, and weighed it in her hand. “I mean, is that your best attempt at skipping a stone across the water?” She walked to the river’s edge, and with a sidearm toss and a flick of her wrist, she sent the r
ock skipping across the water.

  Daniel gasped. “That’s amazing.”

  “Haven’t you ever skipped stones before?” Polly picked up another stone.

  “Sure. But mine never go that far.” He stared at her as if she were a three-eyed frog.

  Polly couldn’t help giggling at his awestruck face. “Want me to teach you the trick?” she asked, once she’d stopped laughing.

  “Oh yes.” He scooped up more rocks and came to stand beside her.

  She showed him how to stand, pull his arm back at a twenty-degree angle, flick his wrist, and release the stone. Soon Daniel was skipping stones almost as well as she could.

  “You’re with the new wagon train, huh?”

  Polly smiled as she rubbed Beulah’s shoulders and back. She heard the sadness in his voice and turned to face him, but he was looking out over the water. “Yes, I am.”

  “I wish I could go with you.”

  Polly walked over to him and dropped her arm around his shoulder. “I wish you could, too, but I’m traveling with the Bentz family, and we don’t have the extra room.”

  Daniel looked up at her with soulful eyes. “I don’t take up much room.”

  “You would miss your family.”

  He shook his head. “Ma and Pa are in heaven.”

  Her heart twisted. “I see.”

  Daniel pulled away from her. “No, you don’t. I’ve been cast aside like a dirty rag. No one wants me.”

  Didn’t she feel the same way? Hadn’t her father abandoned her, and hadn’t Mamadele chosen to go on with her new life with her new husband? Sending Polly to travel to Oregon alone?

  She touched his arm. “You would be surprised how much I understand.”

  Gordon searched everywhere for Daniel. He’d finished his business with the wagon master and wanted to tell the boy he’d be leaving first thing in the morning. When he couldn’t find him within the fort, he decided to go down to the riverbank. Daniel often went there to think and play.