The quartermaster shrugged. “If you send it overland, it won’t reach New York until next spring. Maybe high summer. And the shipping route is quite reliable now. If it’s a really important message, you might want to do both. One is bound to get through.”
“That would be expensive.” Thomas considered his limited resources. How important was it that he get a message to Peterson, anyway? He supposed he wouldn’t be paid until he got back East. Why not just go on to the Willamette Valley, finish the job, and then report in person? He could hop a ship as fast as he could put a letter on one.
He slapped the desk and straightened.
“Well?” asked the quartermaster.
“Changed my mind. Thank you.”
Thomas walked out onto the parade ground and looked over the town below him and the Columbia River beyond. He didn’t need any more instruction or communication. It didn’t matter whether the two women had given up or continued their journey. He just needed to get on down to Oregon City before Rob Whistler’s wagon train came through and make sure David Stone was dead—one way or another.
For nearly two weeks, the company progressed slowly to the Snake River and then along its winding banks. Eb never came to their wagon. Most days, he was gone as long as the daylight lasted. Any news was relayed by Rob.
Anne confronted Elise one morning as they moved into line behind Abe Leonard.
“What happened between you and Eb?”
“Why do you think anything did?” Elise asked. She’d begun knitting again, but not socks this time. She was determined to produce a knitted jumper for the baby Josiah Redman’s wife was expecting.
“I haven’t seen him in ages. Up, you!” Anne slapped Bumper and Challenger with the reins then turned to gaze at Elise. “I thought he liked us, and I know I didn’t quarrel with him.”
Elise’s cheeks grew warm. “We didn’t quarrel.”
“Then what?”
After several seconds of silence, Anne reached over and clasped one of Elise’s hands. “Tell me, dear. I know you care for him, and you’ve been dragging around camp for a fortnight. It’s depressing to see you so unhappy.”
Elise gasped an involuntary sob. Tears sprang into her eyes.
“Oh dear.” Anne produced a fine handkerchief, still pretty and soft despite their harsh laundry conditions.
Elise dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you. I daresay it won’t seem like much to you, since you’ve had so many marriage proposals—”
“Only four,” Anne said. “Well, five if you count Wilbur’s second one. But from four gentlemen.”
Elise smiled though she didn’t feel like it. “Darling, that’s splendid. Haven’t you given any of them serious consideration?”
“I don’t see how I could, not knowing what my future holds. Do you?”
“No.” Elise faltered and gazed down at the ball of wool in her lap. “No, I don’t. And that’s just what I told Eb.”
“You told—oh Elise.” Anne lowered her hands and the reins. Her shoulders sagged.
“Here now, you’re letting the mules slow down.” Elise reached for the whip.
Anne sat up and adjusted the reins. She took the whip from Elise but didn’t use it.
“So, he proposed to you.”
Elise nodded.
“The night of the last dancing?”
“Yes.”
“I was so happy for you that night. He kept you out late, walking in the moonlight.”
Elise sighed. “It started out a happy time. But I had to tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“That I couldn’t.”
Anne was quiet for a minute, watching the mules. “You wanted to say yes.”
Elise’s lips trembled so that she couldn’t answer. She sniffed and raised the handkerchief to her eyes.
Anne looked over at her. “My dearest Elise, I’m so sorry! You must tell him you were mistaken.”
“How can I?”
“You mean because he’s nowhere to be found, or because you were not mistaken?”
For some reason, this question made Elise’s tears spill faster. To her surprise, she saw that Anne was crying, too.
“Anne, do you think you could love Dan Adams?”
Anne arched her eyebrows then shook her head. “I…don’t think so. Not that way, though he’s a very good man. And Wilbur is a dear. But no, I don’t think I want to marry either of them. Wilbur’s not settled enough in his character. And as to the others, why Mr. Shelley is too old, and Wally is just a boy.”
Elise managed a watery smile. “You’ve quite a litany of suitors. But I agree on all of them, except possibly Dan.”
“Perhaps if things were different. With Uncle David, I mean. But I never aspired to marry a farmer, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” Though a quiet farm life sounded alluring to Elise, Anne had become quite adventurous, and her youthful spirit would want variety and a bit of unpredictability. “This trip should have soured you on travel and adventure, but I can’t see that it has.”
“Quite the opposite,” Anne said. “I’m ready to dive into it with Uncle David, if he’s willing.”
Elise nodded. “That would be lovely for you. You’d have his protection.”
“And you could marry Eb and go off to become ranchers.”
Anne’s eager smile almost drew Elise into her fairy tale, but she knew it couldn’t be. “We must find your uncle.” And by then, Eb will have forgotten me, she thought.
“You mustn’t throw away what he’s offering because of me,” Anne said earnestly.
Elise feared no answer would satisfy her. As she tried to find an explanation that could not be argued against, Rob cantered up on Bailey and slowed to pace the horse with Elise’s mules. They had veered off westward from the Snake, where a sweeping bend curved the river northward.
“Say good-bye to the Snake, Miss Elise. That’s the Farewell Bend. We’ll see it no more.”
“So we’re heading into the mountains now.”
“Yes. The Blue Mountains. Beautiful, but treacherous.”
He cantered off up the line. Elise gazed over at the winding river.
“We’re nearing the end of the trail,” Anne said.
“Yes. But they say the hardest part is yet to come.” They rode on in silence, each deep in her own thoughts. Parting from Eb would be the most difficult part of this entire adventure, Elise mused. But he had already begun the separation. Could it be any worse than this? Anne might open the subject again if she looked at her, and so when Elise could no longer see the river, she looked straight ahead.
The Blue Mountains proved worthy of their reputation. Eb stayed with the company more, as the people worked together to get every wagon up each brutal slope and down the other side. Some families combined the strength of their livestock, double-teaming and even triple-teaming their wagons upward.
Elise and Anne’s six mules managed, after they’d jettisoned another of Anne’s trunks, a few more clothes, three books they’d both read several times, and one of their kettles. They took turns walking up the inclines, so that the team had only one of them to pull.
Eb and Rob seemed to be everywhere, giving advice, throwing their shoulders to the load when needed, and helping repair wagons that were damaged in the cruel passage.
And yet Eb never came near. Elise saw him at dawn one morning with Anne, carrying an armful of wood for her. But he stopped and passed the bundle to Anne before they came within hailing distance. He wouldn’t place himself where Elise could speak to him, or where he couldn’t avoid greeting her without being rude. Her chest tightened and she clenched her teeth. She turned her back as Anne approached with the wood and prayed for grace.
Anne dropped the sticks and began to build up the fire. Elise filled the kettle with water, not speaking. She got out dishes and bacon and cornmeal for mush.
“I saw Eb,” Anne said when she took the kettle from the grate fifteen minutes later.
“Did you?” No matt
er how she tried, Elise couldn’t feign disinterest with Anne.
“I asked him plainly why he stays away.”
“Oh.”
Anne turned and faced her with brooding brown eyes. “He said you wouldn’t have him, and he doesn’t wish to distress you by hanging about.”
“Hanging about?” Elise set the kettle down with a thump that slopped a little hot water. “Is that what he calls it? I’d thought he was courting me.” She sobbed and realized how ridiculous that sounded, when she had abruptly ended the courtship. Hanging about indeed.
“Well, yes.” Anne had tears in her eyes as she walked to Elise and placed her arms around her. “Dear Elise. I know you love him.”
“So does he. I told him so.” Elise sniffed and pulled away. “Excuse me.”
She went to the tent and blew her nose. Hastily she rolled up their bedding and set it and their satchels outside.
Anne had their breakfast plates ready, and Elise accepted hers.
“Thank you. We can strike the tent as soon as we finish.”
The journey to the Columbia and Fort Dalles stretched out, uneventful yet full of everyday crises. Elise did what she did best—she coped. Scorched food could be salvaged, torn clothing mended, and broken straps could be sewn. Her heart was another matter. She’d pined over David Stone for many years, imagining herself heartbroken, but she had never imagined the pain she felt now.
When they struck the river, ten wagons left them. The owners had decided to ferry down the Columbia to Vancouver. The rest were bound for Oregon City by way of the Mount Hood Toll Road, Barlow’s route. Rob’s tales of the dangers to come scared Elise a bit. Yet they’d come through so much she felt she ought to have more confidence. They were tough now. They could deal with what lay ahead.
Eb stood at the edge of Summit Meadows, his head bowed and his hat in his hand. After several minutes, he went to his knees in the long grass. He prayed silently, tears running down his cheeks and into his beard stubble. The wind blowing through the pass had a bite to it. He hoped snow wouldn’t arrive before the wagon train.
After a long time, he got up and went to where he’d tied Speck. He took his coat from the back of the saddle and pulled it on. He would camp tonight near Jeanie’s grave. He always did when he came across the Barlow Road. It had cost him a dollar to ride through with Speck. The wagons’ owners would pay five dollars each. It was worth it though, to avoid the perils of the Columbia in autumn. So long as the wagons didn’t crash, that was.
He inhaled carefully and tried not to think about the chute on Laurel Hill. Every year he dreaded going there. He hated snubbing wagons down the chute. Every year he told Rob he wouldn’t do it again. Rob could go without him. But he’d only stayed away one year—that first year after he lost Jeanie.
One thing was for certain—if Elise’s wagon was going down Laurel Hill, he’d be there to make sure it landed safely at the bottom. He fumbled in his saddle bag with chilled hands for his gloves and pulled out the socks she’d knitted for him. He stared down at them. This would be a good time to start wearing them.
He carried his gloves and the gray woolen socks to a stump and sat down. He used the toe of his right boot to lever off the left one. Peeling down his worn sock, he scowled at the hole in the heel. The new ones were so fine, he almost hated putting them on.
“Hey!”
He jerked his head up and listened. Was it just the wind, or had he really heard a shout?
Nothing. Maybe it wasn’t a human shout. Maybe there was a catamount in these parts.
He put the boot back on and pulled off the right one. He’d just got it back in place, solidly on his foot, and picked up the ragged socks he’d discarded when he heard it again.
“Help!”
Now, that was human.
He dropped the socks and hurried toward the trail, where he stopped and listened.
“Hello,” he shouted.
“Hey!”
It wasn’t very loud, but it came from the other side of the trail, where the ground dropped off perilously. He hurried over the wagon ruts and through the tall weeds. At the edge of the precipice, he looked down.
“Anybody down there?”
“Help me!”
“Where are you?” he called, scanning the rocks and brush below.
“Here!”
A bush moved, off to his right and at least fifty feet down. Eb caught his breath. A buckskin horse was lying motionless on its side near the sheer wall, about five yards from the bushes. It would be a difficult climb down. How on earth would he get the fellow up?
“I need to find a path down.”
The bush moved again, but the man didn’t reply.
Eb dashed back to Speck and took his rope from the saddle. He wasn’t sure it was long enough to get him over the cliff, and he surely couldn’t carry a man up a rope. He led Speck across the meadow.
“Come on, boy. We’ve got to find a safe way down that drop.”
It took him twenty minutes to find a place where he was certain he could get down without losing his footing. He tied Speck at the top and shouldered the coil of rope and his canteen. He checked his revolver and knife and headed down.
A harrowing climb down brought him into the ravine he’d surveyed. He picked his way over rocks, brush, and debris toward where he thought the man lay.
He spotted the dead horse first and headed for the bushes nearby.
“I’m here.”
A bush shimmied, and Eb walked forward.
“You hurt bad?” He drew his pistol, just on principle.
“My leg’s busted,” the man gasped. “Can you get me out of here? I’ve been down here three days. Maybe four.”
“I’ll sure try.” Eb parted the bushes and stared down into the strained face of Thomas G. Costigan.
CHAPTER 27
Elise drove when they left Fort Dalles, and Anne walked most of the morning with some of the other women. The desolate, arid land they crossed held no appeal for the emigrants. All were eager to push on to the lush Willamette Valley they’d heard so much about.
Rob’s horse came trotting along the line, and Elise seized the rare chance to speak privately with the wagon master.
“Mr. Whistler!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I haven’t seen Eb for several days now.”
Rob’s face fell into grave lines. “No, he’s gone on ahead.”
“Doesn’t he every day?”
“Mostly, but we won’t see him for a while now.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Rob pulled his hat off, wiped his brow, and settled the hat on his head again. “We’re nearing the place where Jeanie died.”
“Ah.”
Jeanie. Elise had never heard her name before, but she didn’t have to ask who Jeanie was. Even Rob spoke the name with reverence.
“What happened to her, if I may ask?”
“You may. There’s a place coming up. Not for a few days, but it’s a very steep grade going down a mountain. We’ll have to snub the wagon wheels to trees and lower them with ropes down a chute of sorts.”
Elise stared at him. “You mean—?”
“Eb didn’t want her to drive, but she insisted she could do it if he and the other men tended the ropes.” Rob shook his head. “The rope gave way, and their wagon crashed on down the slope. Jeanie…Jeanie was killed instantly. At least she didn’t suffer.”
“He told me she died on the trail, but I had no idea.”
“It was pretty bad,” Rob said.
“And they were so close to their destination.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “We don’t try to drive wagons down there anymore. It’s one of my rules. We rope them all down, with no people inside.” He looked ahead toward the mountains. “Eb will be there when we need him. But every trip he goes on alone and camps near that place. I expect he spends some time at her graveside.”
Elise drew in a shaky breath. What had she done to Eb, turning
him down when he was so near this emotion-filled place? It must have taken great courage for him to declare himself to her, knowing he’d have to pass his wife’s grave soon.
“Oh dear,” she whispered.
Rob eyed her keenly. “Are you all right, Miss Elise?”
She couldn’t lie, but if she said no, he would feel he needed to do something to help her. She gazed at him, unable to speak.
“He told me about your conversation the night of the dancing,” Rob said quietly.
Elise looked down at her hands, holding the reins. “I’ve been cruel to him.”
“That’s not the way he sees it. He said you were being kind to Anne—being a mother when she has none of her own. He thought that was upstanding of you.”
“Did he?” Her voice caught. “I thought he was angry with me.”
“No, ma’am. Don’t think that. He is grieving a bit though. For you, I mean.”
They rode along, and Rob didn’t flit off to check on another wagon. Elise decided he had more on his mind, and she was right.
“This is the first time I’ve seen him take to a woman since Jeanie died,” Rob said. “I had hopes that you’d marry him. Eb needs a good woman by his side.”
Her cheeks felt warmer than the cool sun of September warranted. “I also had hopes, sir. And yet, I can’t help feeling it was wrong of me to raise his expectations.”
“Now don’t go all guilt ridden on us. You know where God wants you. Right now, it’s on this wagon train. And if we get to the end of the trail and you feel He still wants you with Miss Anne, then that’s where you should be. Neither Eb nor I would fault you for that.”
“But I’ve disappointed him horribly.”
“Yes.”
She wished he hadn’t agreed so readily. The heaviness that had plagued her since she’d rejected Eb pushed down on her now, so weighty she thought it might crush her lungs.
“Let the Lord work things out,” Rob said.
“That’s sound advice.”
He nodded and touched his hat brim. “Good day, Miss Elise.” He urged his mare into a trot and rode up the line of wagons. Elise settled in to watch the mules. They were climbing, and ahead lay the forested slopes of the Cascades.
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 29
