by Al Lacy
“Then let’s remember that.”
“Yes, Mama.”
Solomon ran his gaze over the faces of his children and said, “As Mary Beth heard in her eavesdropping last night—”
“Papa, I wasn’t exactly eavesdropping. I was just wanting to hear what you and Mama were saying about moving west.”
Solomon chuckled. “Anyway, as Mary Beth heard last night, your mother and I are talking seriously about joining a wagon train and heading west to make us a new home. You know we’ve talked about it before, but last night we decided to pray in earnest about it. Since the government came up with the Homestead Act, it’s pretty tempting to go to new territory and pick up a hundred and sixty acres of free land. But we’ll only do it if that’s what God wants for us.”
“What about the Indians, Papa?” Mary Beth asked. “I wouldn’t want us to be massacred like those people in Kansas last year.”
“I don’t either, sweetheart. But from talking to those wagon masters who come into the store, I’ve learned that the Indians don’t bother wagon trains that have fourteen or fifteen wagons or more. The wagon masters said that once in a while the Indians will try to frighten the people in the trains by riding close with war paint on. But they usually just want some food.”
“So the people the Pawnees killed were attacked because there were only five wagons in their train, right, Papa?”
“That’s right. It’s asking for trouble to travel in such a small convoy.”
“Papa,” Patty Ruth said, “couldn’t you just real quick tell us why the In’ians kill white people? Did we do somethin’ bad to ’em?”
Solomon glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Well, honey, to put it real quick…I’m sorry to say that when white men started moving west several years ago, they stole land from the Indians and killed their deer, elk, and buffalo. This made the Indians angry. Now many of the tribes make war against all white men who travel through their land or move in and settle on it.”
“But they won’t make war on white people if they’re in big enough wagon trains, right, Papa?” B. J. asked.
“That’s right, son.”
Patty Ruth had come to her own conclusion. “Then if Jesus tells us He wants us to go out there where the In’ians are, He will protect us, won’t He, Papa?”
“He sure will, darlin’. He sure will.” Solomon looked around at the others. “All right, it’s time for Bible reading and prayer.”
Solomon’s Bible lay on the cupboard within reach. As he picked it up he said, “We’re going to pray every morning and every night about moving west until the Lord gives us a yes or a no.”
“How will we know, Papa?” B. J. asked. “God doesn’t come and talk to His children today like He did in the Old Testament days, does He?”
“No, son. But He has a way of letting us know His will. Sometimes by something we read in His Word. Sometimes by circumstances. Sometimes by both.”
“Papa, what’s circum—circum—”
“Patty Ruth, circumstances are things that happen in our lives that show us what the Lord wants for us.”
“Oh. Like if Chris falls off of Buster while he’s showin’ off in front of Lula Mae, it means God doesn’t want him to do that.”
“I haven’t fallen off of Buster ever, little sister,” Chris said, “so God must want me to—”
“That’s enough,” Solomon said. “Both of you.”
Mary Beth looked at both of her parents. “Mama… Papa…what about Grandpa and Grandma? From what Grandpa has said, nobody’s going to budge him from Independence. Can we just go off and leave them?”
Solomon answered. “Well, sweetheart, Grandma and Grandpa are Christians, so God has His will for their lives. It may not be the same as His will for our lives. The Coopers will do what God wants, and I’m sure the Singletons will, too.”
After Solomon had gone to the store and the three older children had gone to school, Hannah and Patty Ruth walked into town to see the wagons and people gathered in Independence Courthouse Square. The Square was quite large, and afforded room for as many as four normal-sized wagon trains to form at the same time.
Their route took them down Main Street and past Cooper’s General Store. The business section of Independence took up six blocks, with the huge Courthouse Square in the middle.
Patty Ruth was all eyes, watching the wagons coming into town from the east. As they walked past the store, Hannah looked in and saw her Solomon and Randy Chase waiting on a great number of customers.
“Looks like Papa and Randy are going to have a busy day,” Hannah said.
Soon they neared the Square. The area was a hubbub of activity.
“Oh, Mama! Look at all the wagons…an’ mules…an’ oxes… an’ people!”
Dozens of white-canopied wagons were jammed into the Square. Hammers pounded, dogs barked, and children laughed and played together. Two girls ran by screaming as some boys chased them with frogs in their hands.
Men were leading ox and mule teams through the crowds, and riders moved along the periphery on horseback. You could tell who the wagon masters were by all the people standing around them, asking questions.
Patty Ruth clutched Ulysses close to her chest, and tried to take in every detail as she walked with her mother among the wagons.
“Oh, look, Patty Ruth!” Hannah said. “It’s Betty Wilson!”
Patty Ruth had always liked the Wilsons, but she liked Raymond Wilson even more since he had saved her from the big horse’s hooves yesterday.
As they came close to Betty, who was casually strolling among the wagons, Hannah called to her. Betty turned and smiled. “Hannah,” she said, “I’m glad to see you—I’ve been dying to find out if it’s true.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, Ray told me that after the incident yesterday, Patty Ruth asked if you and Solomon were going to buy a covered wagon and move west. He said your answer was rather vague. Now, c’mon, honey. Your ol’ friend, Betty, here, wants to know if there’s anything to it.”
Hannah smiled. “All I can tell you at this point is that we’re giving it serious consideration and praying for the Lord’s guidance. I read an article about the emigration west in the Kansas City Sun a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t said anything to Solomon about it, but the article pointed out that for the men, the move west is a great adventure. It appeals to their male self-esteem, and they enjoy the challenge and excitement of conquering the rugged frontier. For women, however—”
Betty cut in, nodding in a knowing way. “Mm-hmm… just a lot of hard work and frustration.”
“That,” Hannah said, “and many fears. They leave all they hold dear, except for the family members going with them. It’s hard to face leaving home and going off to some strange, unfamiliar place where there are dangers on every side.”
“Oh, I agree, honey. Plus the men don’t have to tend to the children on the trail like the women do… or give birth traveling in a prairie schooner.”
“That’s for sure, Betty. But despite it all, if the Lord gives us peace about striking out west, I’ll back Solomon all the way.”
“Of course you will, Hannah, because that’s the kind of woman you are.” Betty drew in a short breath and said, “Ray and I have talked about doing the same thing.”
“You have?”
“Yes. But, of course, there are a lot of things to consider. We’d have to sell the house and the shop…and the shop is doing quite well for us.”
“Well, it’s certainly not anything to hurry into,” Hannah said with a sigh.
Just then the women noticed a young mother with two small daughters coming their way. One child, who looked to be about two years old, was in her mother’s arms. The other was about Patty Ruth’s age.
“Good morning,” Hannah said, flashing her winsome smile.
“Hello,” the young mother said. “I’m Darlene Watson, and these are my daughters, Emily and Eliza.”
“I’m Hannah Cooper. This is my youngest daugh
ter, Patty Ruth, and this is Betty Wilson.”
Eliza, who was exactly Patty Ruth’s size, was eyeing Ulysses.
Patty Ruth felt a slight unease with her bear under such scrutiny.
“Hi,” Eliza said. “I like your bear. What’s her name?”
“It’s not a her, it’s a him. His name is Ulysses.” As she spoke, Patty Ruth clutched the bear tighter.
“He’s cute,” Eliza said. “Can I hold him?”
Patty Ruth froze. All she could manage was a shake of her head.
“Please?”
The two girls now had their mothers’ and Betty Wilson’s attention.
“No,” Patty Ruth said. “Ulysses only wants me to hold him.”
“All I want to do is hold him. I won’t take him anywhere. I promise.”
Patty Ruth turned herself so that Ulysses was farther away from Eliza’s reach and snapped, “No! He doesn’t want you to hold him!”
Hannah had seen and heard enough. “Patty Ruth,” she said, “why are you talking to Eliza like that? She asked you in a nice way if she could hold Ulysses.”
Patty Ruth’s lower lip protruded as she looked at Eliza, then back at her mother. “He’s my bear.”
“Patty Ruth, what have I told you about being selfish?”
“That it’s naughty.”
“Then you’re being naughty, aren’t you? I heard Eliza very politely ask you if she could hold Ulysses. Now you let Eliza hold him for a few minutes.”
“Mrs. Cooper,” Darlene Watson said, “it’s all right. Eliza understands.”
Hannah smiled and turned back to her daughter. “Patty Ruth, let Eliza hold Ulysses.”
When she saw the stubborn look in Patty Ruth’s eyes, Hannah set her jaw. “Now.”
Patty Ruth extended the bear and said, “Don’t drop him.”
Hannah cleared her throat.
Patty Ruth looked at Eliza and said, “Please. Don’t drop him, please.”
“I won’t,” Eliza said, pressing Ulysses to her cheek then holding him at arm’s length to study his shiny black eyes. She adjusted him in the cradle of her arm and traced the bear’s smile with the tip of her forefinger.
The little redhead watched her closely.
Eliza looked up at her mother. “He’s really a nice bear, Mommy. I like him.”
“I’m sure Ulysses likes you, too, honey. Now give him back to Patty Ruth.”
Eliza smiled warmly and handed the stuffed bear back, saying, “Thank you, Patty Ruth.”
Patty Ruth managed a weak smile and said, “You’re welcome.”
While Hannah and her youngest were walking home, Hannah said, “Honey, I know you love Ulysses very much, but you mustn’t be selfish with him. Eliza just wanted to hold him and get a good look at him.”
Patty Ruth didn’t reply.
Hannah let a few seconds pass, then said, “If Eliza had been holding a doll, and you liked the looks of it, would you want to hold it and see it up close?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, if you did, would you hurt it?”
“Course not.”
“Well, Eliza wouldn’t either. You need to remember what happened today and understand why it’s important to share with others. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Patty Ruth… Mama wants you to grow up to be generous and loving. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I can be proud of you if you’re selfish?”
“No.”
“Well, let me tell you something I’ve observed in my years on this earth.”
“Okay.”
“Selfishness in a person’s heart eventually makes her very miserable and unhappy. Life is much happier for people who are generous and not selfish. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Mama. I won’t be selfish anymore.”
“That’s my girl. Both Papa and I will be proud of you, too.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Mary Beth Cooper listened intently as Miss Powers stood in front of a large map and showed her students the three main routes west. All routes, she pointed out with pride, started right in Independence at Courthouse Square.
Mary Beth’s thoughts drifted to her parents and their prayers about whether or not to sell out and go west. Oregon sounded like a nice place, as did California. But Mary Beth was having mixed feelings. If they did go west, they would have to act soon, or wait until next year. It was already the last week of April, and Papa had said the wagon trains never left Independence later than the last week of May. That meant the Cooper family might be gone within a month!
At that very moment, Miss Powers was explaining the length of time it took the wagon trains to reach Oregon City or Sacramento. If all went well, and there weren’t any unusual delays, they could make it to Oregon City in twenty-two to twenty-three weeks. The main thing was to get over the mountain ranges no later than the last week of October to safely beat the snow.
Mary Beth’s best friend, Belinda Martin, sat next to her. Mary Beth glanced at Belinda from the corner of her eye. She wanted to move to the exciting frontier, but she didn’t want to leave her friends. She didn’t want to leave Miss Powers, either. Even though she would be in Mr. Barrick’s class with Christopher next year, she could still see Miss Powers at school every day.
But even more than that, Mary Beth didn’t want to leave Belinda. They belonged to the same church and had been best friends since the Martins came to Independence from Indiana six years ago.
Miss Powers was pointing out the spot on the map some sixty-six miles northwest of Fort Bridger where the Oregon and California Trails divided, explaining that it was known as the Parting of the Ways.
Mary Beth felt a painful lump in her throat. How could she leave her best friend? It would be like going off and leaving her sister.
At that moment, Belinda turned to look at Mary Beth. She could tell something was wrong with her friend. She would just have to wait until recess to ask her about it.
Miss Powers took the rest of the period to discuss the four wagon trains that were forming in Courthouse Square. At ten-thirty, she dismissed the class for the half-hour recess.
Mary Beth rose slowly from her desk as Belinda waited beside her. When their eyes met, Belinda flicked a glance at Miss Powers, who was answering a student’s question, then leaned close to her best friend and whispered, “Mary Beth, what’s wrong? I saw tears in your eyes.”
“Let’s go outside,” Mary Beth said.
They walked outside and made their way to a back corner of the white frame building.
Mary Beth’s lips quivered slightly as she said, “Belinda, Mama and Papa are getting serious about joining a wagon train and moving west.”
“Oh, no! I couldn’t stand it if you moved away!”
“It’s bothering me, too. I… I know my parents won’t make the move unless the Lord leads them. But if He does, then we’ll never see each other again. Not in this world, anyway.”
Now there were tears in Belinda’s eyes too. She shook her head and said, “I’m going to pray that the Lord will keep you here.”
“I’m not sure how to pray, Belinda. I’m just praying that if it’s God’s will for us to go, He’ll give me the grace and strength to handle it. It will mean leaving my Grandma and Grandpa, as well as you and all my other friends. I would just flat pray that God won’t let us go, but Papa seems to really have his heart set on it.”
When school let out that afternoon, Mary Beth reminded Chris and B. J. that this was her day to go to the store and do paperwork for Papa.
Fifteen minutes later, Mary Beth moved along the boardwalk in town, noting the wagon train people on the street. As she entered Cooper’s General Store, she had to thread her way through the men, women, and children to reach the long counter where her father and Randy Chase were selling merchandise.
When she rounded the end of the counter and headed for the small desk next to a filing cabinet, Randy looked
up and greeted her.
“Oh, hello, honey,” Solomon said, diverting his attention momentarily from the line of customers. “Everything’s ready for you there. Invoices on the last shipment from Chicago are in the top drawer.”
“Okay, Papa.”
While Mary Beth made entries in her father’s record book, she couldn’t help looking up periodically to watch the people from the wagon trains. She could see the excitement in their eyes and hear it in their voices.
The desk sat beside a window, and outside on the street, Mary Beth could see and hear the children laughing and playing while men and women loaded their wagons with supplies purchased at the store. Inside, as women made their way among the long rows of goods, picking and choosing supplies, she listened to their talk.
The women didn’t show the same enthusiasm about the upcoming journey as the men and children. They talked about their fears, yet underneath their words, Mary Beth could see some degree of anticipation of building a new life on the frontier.
Twelve-year-old Mary Beth told herself that women were just more level-headed than men and children when it came to these things. By the end of the afternoon, she understood better why her mother was somewhat reluctant to sell out, pack up, and move west.
On Saturday morning, a small crowd of citizens gathered at Courthouse Square to watch the first wagon train pull out. The second one was scheduled to depart on Monday, and the other two would leave later in the week. Even before the last trains were gone, there would be more trains forming.
Christopher and Mary Beth were working at the store with Randy Chase so that Solomon, along with others, could help put the finishing touches on the Beatty house.
The new house was really shaping up, and the wives gathered inside the house at eleven-fifteen to begin preparing a hearty lunch for their hardworking men.
The children who were old enough worked right alongside their fathers. B. J. was picking up chunks of wood after Solomon sawed boards for trimming the windows of the two-story house and piling it behind the house to be used for firewood.
Patty Ruth was playing with some other little girls in the front yard, the ever-present Ulysses cradled in one arm.
