Mary's Musket (Clover Creek Caravan Book 2)

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “Me!”

  Most of the children had played the game, but some of the smaller ones had not. Mary briefly explained the game, and they all played for a good long while, keeping the children out of the way while the adults dealt with the captain and burying his wife.

  When Jed Scott, Hannah’s husband, stepped into the clearing where they played, Mary stopped the game. They looked to the preacher to see if he had anything to say to all of them. Instead, he took his wife by the hand and led her away, speaking to her in a low voice.

  When Hannah returned, her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but she continued the game. Mary was certain Jed had talked to her about how she was taking the death of the third person from their group, and it was obvious, Hannah was doing a little better with each one. Mary wasn’t certain if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was never good to not care when someone died, but it was worse to fall apart with every single death.

  The camp made supper together again that night, and for the first time, the captain and his boys joined the rest of them for a meal. After supper, though they’d had time to rest that day, there was no music or dancing. Everyone was aware of how the captain felt, and they tried to be respectful.

  There was no need to hunt, because the buffalo Mary had killed earlier would feed them all for a good long while.

  Instead they broke into small groups to play cards, and Mary and Bob were as good as they’d always been. They played against Hannah and Jed, which Mary enjoyed. It was good to do things with the lifelong friend she’d made in Independence.

  “Tomorrow is going to be really hard,” Hannah said with a very low voice. “The captain’s boys will be joining our little entourage of children we’re taking along the trail now.” She wondered just how many more children she and Hannah could have walk with them without it being too many.

  “I really worry that the captain is going to look at Margaret for a new wife. She would not do well with him,” Mary said softly. “We need to find a way to keep that from happening.”

  “Maybe the captain will look at Trudie Brown. She’s the only other unmarried woman on the trail who is truly old enough to marry. I’m sure there will be more down the road, but for now, it’s just Trudie.” Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know Trudie nearly as well as I know Margaret, but I think she’s strong enough to go toe to toe with the captain without losing her mind.” Mary understood exactly what Hannah was saying. The captain was too bossy for most women, and he needed a wife who would be able to stand up to him.

  “I can see that,” Mary said, nodding. “If any of us see the captain looking toward Margaret, we need to point him toward Trudie. Agreed?”

  Hannah nodded, and reluctantly the two men nodded as well. Bob had no desire to be involved in putting couples together or in keeping them apart, so it was a bit hard for him, but he agreed. He had no real choice. He wanted to keep his wife happy.

  Mary and Bob took their tent outside the main circle as had become their habit, and Mary clung to him tightly that night. “I worry that something will happen, and I’ll lose you. Or you’ll lose me. I knew the trail would be filled with trials and death, but I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this bad.”

  Bob understood and he stroked his hand over her hair and her back. “We’ll be careful. We’re both strong, and neither of us is drinking anything but coffee. I know it’s going to be different for us.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  The next two days were difficult with more people growing sick by the day. Most of the ill people rode in the wagons, and Mary and Hannah stayed away. Hannah’s heart was too big, in Mary’s opinion, and she watched her friend take food to the sick. Mary was willing to cook for the sick, but she wasn’t willing to get close enough to catch what they had, if it was catching, and no one knew for sure.

  By Saturday night, there had been no more deaths, but there were six people in all who were ill. The captain was still pushing as hard as ever, but he had a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  They knew they would stay over on Saturday night, so the women did the clothes right after supper on Saturday, so they could take the entirety of the Sabbath off work.

  Mary had her and Bob’s clothes hanging with those of her parents and siblings when the music started. Bob came and found her between the wagons as she was finishing up, taking her hand and pulling her to the center of the camp, right in front of the musicians.

  And they danced. All of Mary’s worries seemed to melt away as Bob spun her around the campground. Other people danced, but by then, they knew to watch out for Bob and Mary and their overly-boisterous dance moves.

  By the time the musicians took a break, Mary felt like all of the burdens she had been carrying were lifted from her shoulders. She collapsed onto the grass beside Hannah and breathed a sigh. “That Bob sure can dance.”

  Hannah laughed. “So, can you. I think everyone in camp is afraid to dance around you, because you never can tell if one of you are going to run over them.”

  Mary laughed. “They know to stay out of our way, and that’s a very good thing.”

  “Of course, it is.” Hannah rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m so glad it’s finally getting warmer. It’s going to be May soon.” They’d all had to wear coats and shawls on their journey, but soon just sleeves would be enough.

  “We’ve been on the trail almost a month.” Mary shook her head. “I think I’m going to do a bit of hunting tomorrow after the service. Or before the service, since the laundry is already done. I feel like that’s my greatest contribution to the company. The meat I can bring in.”

  Hannah shook her head. “You have no idea how much of a contribution you make, do you? You walk with children, you cook when you have to, you do laundry. You are a wonderful addition to this company, and it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  Mary smiled at Hannah. “You have to say that, because you’re my lifelong friend.”

  “I don’t have to say anything,” Hannah retorted. “I say what I mean. Are you accusing a preacher’s wife of being a liar?”

  “Never. God would surely strike me down with a bolt of lightning.”

  The two friends laughed, and Bob looked down at them from where he was talking to Jed. The two men hadn’t become quick friends like Mary and Hannah, but they were friendly enough that they enjoyed talking to one another while their women chatted about whatever it was women talked about. “What are you two giggling about?”

  “Oh, you don’t want to know. Suffice it to say, I told Hannah she was fibbing, and she reminded me she’s a preacher’s wife, and I was looking for the bolt of lightning that was sure to come.”

  Bob and Jed exchanged looks, both of them shaking their heads. “You know, Bob, I think if the two of us don’t find adjoining homesteads, there will be two very unhappy women in our lives.”

  Bob nodded. “That’s true. I guess we’re stuck with one anther for the rest of our days.”

  Hannah looked at Jed, her eyes filled with happiness. “Do you mean it, Jed? You’ll try to get a lot near theirs?” It was a subject Mary and Hannah had joked about since they’d met.

  Jed nodded, and Mary jumped to her feet and hugged the preacher. He was a bit uncomfortable with it, and Mary could tell so she stepped back quickly and went to hug her own husband. “We will be the best behaved wives in all of Oregon if we live close,” Mary said.

  “Now who’s lying?” Hannah asked with a laugh.

  “We’ll make more of an effort to be well-behaved than we would have,” Mary said, grinning.

  Jed looked at Bob. “Any idea what we just got ourselves into?”

  “I don’t even want to think about it,” Bob responded.

  Margaret walked toward them then, and she sat down beside Hannah. “The girls are asleep, so I can play grown up for a short while now.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Hannah said. “Jed and Bob just told us that they’d make an effort to get adjoining homesteads so w
e can live close.” Hannah’s face looked just about as excited as Mary felt.

  Margaret’s eyes widened and she nodded emphatically. “That’s wonderful! Just make sure I’m on another side of the two of you, and I’ll be happy right along with you.”

  “Absolutely,” Hannah agreed. Mary wished Margaret would find love on the Trail, and she wouldn’t have to bear the burden of homesteading and raising the girls on her own, but she had no doubt Margaret would find a way to do it and do it well. She was a strong woman.

  When the dancing started again, Mary and Bob were back out there dancing, doing their best to avoid running over their fellow emigrants. There was something about dancing that made both of them lose every single inhibition they’d ever had.

  When the music slowed a bit, and Mary went happily into Bob’s arms, she asked, “What would you think of Margaret and the doctor together?”

  Bob shook his head. “Nah. Doc is forty if he’s a day, and Margaret isn’t much older than you. It wouldn’t work out well, from what I can see. Doc needs to marry someone closer to his age, or no one at all.”

  Mary nodded, agreeing with her husband, which wasn’t something she usually did readily. “You’re probably right. I just hate the idea of Margaret doing all the work of homesteading on her own. She needs some help.”

  “She probably does.”

  All was well when they turned in that night, and Mary looked forward to the smaller workload on the Sabbath. She knew the captain had hired Margaret to do his and the boys’ laundry for the rest of the trip, and she was thankful he’d thought to look to her friend.

  The following morning dawned dark and rainy. As soon as Mary saw the bad weather, she felt like it was a sign of things to come, and unfortunately, she was right.

  Two more people had died during the night, bringing the death toll of their group to five. Both had died of the cholera, and they each had children they’d left behind. Both had been men.

  Mary and Hannah clung to one another’s hands during the funerals, and they simply ached for the wives who had been left alone with no one to turn to, no one to lean on, and nowhere to go but forward. They would be homesteading on their own. Two more of the ladies in their group were alone.

  Mary earnestly prayed there wouldn’t be more deaths, but they already knew better. Her mother had been right when she’d called it a death march. They knew the only way to go was forward, but they also knew there would be more deaths, both disease and accidental. They only hoped they would both arrive in Oregon with their hearts intact.

  Seven

  April 26th, 1852

  I’ve been married for a week today. So far, Bob is the very best of husbands. The trail has been hard with the deaths and illnesses, but we continue on. There are widows and widowers on the trip who are wondering what they are doing. The loss has felt horrific to those of us who have not lost a loved one. I don’t want to think of how bad it would be for those who have.

  No children have been lost yet, and only my two siblings have experienced accidents that are worth mentioning, so things are not all grim.

  We stopped a little early yesterday, and we washed clothes in the river right after supper, and then the music and dancing started. Bob and I are a little too energetic on the dancefloor (or prairie as the case may be) for most of the others in the company, but we don’t care. If they don’t want to be trod upon, they should sit down and stay out of our way.

  There were two funerals this morning, and we did those instead of having church service. There are now four more children with only one parent on our train that Hannah and I will attempt to manage during our walks. One family is all sick. They lost their father last night, but the mother is ill as well. They have a boy and a girl, and they are slightly ill, but nothing like their parents. The Stangers may end up leaving their boy and girl for someone else to raise.

  Tomorrow we will leave the Little Blue and cross the prairie to the Platte River. The Platte is where a great deal of our journey will be, as we will be following that great river almost into Oregon Territory. We are all excited to see the river that will take us so far, and keep us with water and feed for our cattle during this summer.

  Shortly after the gunshot woke them all on Sunday morning, the news they’d lost two more during the night spread through the camp. No one did well with the news of the deaths, of course, but they all worked together to dig graves and all who were healthy attended the services.

  Mary and Hannah visited the widows of both of the men who had died during the night and arranged to take the children under their wings for the rest of the trip. “I’ll make sure you get supper tonight,” Hannah said softly.

  “We’ll both make sure the clothes are washed,” Mary said. “Do you want to keep your husband’s clothes?”

  Neither wife was at all interested in her husband’s clothes going with them. Thankfully one of the wives had a teen boy who was able to drive the wagon for a while. His mother wasn’t doing well, and Mary and Hannah sent the doc over after talking to her family.

  While Mary worked on the laundry of the two families, Hannah worked on cooking meals for both for that evening. Mary hated laundry, but she hated cooking even more, so she would let Hannah cook while she did the laundry of the families.

  Margaret pitched in some as well, and the laundry was on the line plenty early in the day for it all to dry.

  The doctor visited with Mary while she was hanging clothes for the Stanger family. “Mrs. Stanger is very ill. She and her husband have been drinking water, and giving it to their children. I want you to ensure no more water goes into the children or the mother. Hopefully she will be able to make a recovery. Anyone you see drinking water, I want you to say that it could kill them. Just be brutal with the information. They don’t need to keep putting their lives in danger because they prefer the taste of water to that of coffee.”

  “Does someone need to sit with Mrs. Stanger?” Mary asked, envisioning her and Hannah taking turns at the woman’s bedside. It would be exhausting, but they were strong and they could do it.

  “No, that’s not necessary. She’ll either make it through or she won’t.” The doctor shook his head. “I hate having to even say that, but it’s the truth.”

  Mary closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her wits about her. There had been too many deaths, and she hadn’t spoken to her mother yet that day. She knew the older woman would be all but out of her mind, worried about her children.

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  The doctor nodded, and he walked off, seemingly to see to some of the others who had taken ill during their journey. Mary hung the last of the laundry on the line, and then she went over to her mother. The men had dug the holes for the dead and buried them, while the woman had seen to the clothes and cooking.

  Mary was half-afraid as she approached her Ma. The woman was getting more upset with each death, no matter if they were connected to her family or not. “Hello, Ma.”

  Ma turned and looked at Mary. Her eyes looked wild. “We’re all going to die. Why do we continue to cook and do laundry? There is no way we’re going to be able to make it all the way to Oregon without more death. Why are we on this death march?”

  “There’s free land in Oregon, Ma. This is where we need to go to get it. You’re going to find that you’re happy when you get west.”

  “Happy? I’ve left my whole family and all of my friends. I’ll have to travel for hours instead of minutes to get to the nearest store. And you think I’ll be happier? I’ll have four children by the time we arrive instead of nine. I worked hard growing every one of those babies in my body, and for what? To lose them all on this fool trip of your father’s. No, I will not be happier there.”

  After talking to her ma—well, really letting her ma yell at her—for a few more minutes, Mary went in search of the doctor. She didn’t know if he could help, but her mother had crossed the line into hysteria in Mary’s opinion, and she needed any help anyone could give her.<
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  The doctor listened to her fears and nodded. “I’ll see if I can calm her down.” He shook his head. “Didn’t she know how difficult the journey would be?”

  “Yes, she did, but Pa insisted it was necessary. She managed to delay the trip by two years, but it still happened, and she’s certain it means the whole world is ending for her.” Mary wanted to help any way she could, but she was afraid her mother was too far gone.

  Dr. Bentley nodded. “I’m not surprised. Your mother seems like a person who needs to be in a comfortable environment and know friends and family are close by. I do wish men would take their wives fears into account before they embark on a journey such as this one.”

  Mary headed over to where Hannah was cooking for the families who had lost mothers. “I just asked the doctor to go and talk to my mother. She is not handling any of the deaths well. In a different way than you are.” She wasn’t sure if she’d worded that well enough for her friend to understand. Hannah was saddened by them, but they seemed to be slowly driving her mother insane.

  Hannah nodded. “I think having the doctor talk to her is a good idea. Hopefully he’ll have some sort of solution that will calm her down. She seems a little more agitated every day.”

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one seeing it. I tried to talk to Pa about it, and he acted like I was losing my mind. I’m not. I’m just worried about my mother.” Mary shook her head. “Sometimes I want to shoot my own pa for the way he treats Ma. He doesn’t understand her at all.”

  “I understand your worry. My mother was worried when I left, but I promised to write to her regularly. I know she will feel better once she receives my first letter and sees that I was alive to write to her.”

  Mary smiled. “Our mothers are constantly worried about little things like death. I wonder what’s wrong with them.”

  “I guess we can say they love us, but maybe there’s something else as well.”