Luella’s Longing: Romance on the Oregon Trail Book Two

by Ball, Kathleen

  Please Lord, help me understand what is going on and how people can believe I’ve been a loose woman. When would I have had time? From before first light until long after dark I did my chores. I was never left alone. My father won’t speak up for me. What about Declan? Oh Lord, please don’t let him think those awful things about me. Please bring my heart and soul some peace.

  A bit of comfort came over her, but her thoughts kept going in a big circle. She heard Heath and Declan speaking in low tones. It grew darker and darker. After a long while, she took a shuddering breath and put on her nightgown. It was time to get some sleep. They’d be busy tomorrow packing up and traveling to the North Platte Crossing. That was a ferry run and built by Mormons. The river was so fast moving, but God would keep them safe. It would take them a week to ten days of traveling along the south side of the Platte River before they came to the crossing.

  Chapter Five

  Declan hadn’t had much to say to her in almost a week, and her spirits plummeted. A smile would have been too much to ask. Heath and Zander had made themselves scarce. It was lonely, and Declan volunteered for every guard shift he could. The one night when she thought he’d be there he had offered to bed down with the livestock.

  Though he often drove the wagon, she pulled her weight driving it too. It was two hours into the morning on the fifth day out of Fort Laramie, and she was driving the oxen. She was third in line when the first two wagons slowed to a crawl. Upon glancing at a big tree she saw two men swinging from a rope. It didn’t seem that they had been there long. She instantly pulled out of the line and jumped down from the wagon. She was promptly sick. Dizziness came upon her. She leaned against the wheel for a moment and then got herself a cup of water.

  “If it were Indians, they wouldn’t have their scalps. These men must have done something and my guess it has to do with the three graves up ahead,” Captain London explained from on top of his big bay gelding.

  She nodded and climbed back onto the wagon. Just when she was about to release the brake she heard Declan yell for her to hold up. Nervously, she waited while he tied his horse to the back of the wagon. She moved over as he climbed up.

  “Do you want to lie down or is the fresh air better for your morning sickness?”

  Her jaw dropped as she recoiled. It was like a slap in the face, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Finally, she sputtered, “I-I wouldn’t know! I’ve only been sick to my stomach twice the whole journey. It was the sight of those men swinging from the tree. The captain said there are three fresh graves up ahead, and he figures it’s all ties together. I can drive.”

  “Maybe after the nooning. I want to be sure you stay healthy.”

  She turned her head and watched the fir trees as her eyes watered. One tear slipped over and rolled down her cheek. “You never once asked me if the rumors were true. It sounds to me you think I’m carrying a baby. How do you know if I am or if I’m not? You’ve hardly talked to me for a week. I think I will lie down.” She turned and climbed over the bench seat into the back of the wagon.

  He didn’t say a word. Part of her knew he wouldn’t but the other part ached for him to say he believed her to be a righteous woman. She was too young to be married. She didn’t know how to act or what to do. Sure, she could handle any of the chores. Hard work had been her constant companion. A frustrated sigh escaped. There were so many things she suspected women learned from their mothers she hadn’t learned from hers. How did one learn how to talk to a husband?

  Cora might be a good choice to talk to, but she hadn’t been around as much as usual. Essie had been sick, and they were staying to themselves. It had been hard this past week. How she wished she could have asked her mother’s advice.

  She reached for Declan’s Bible and looked for a passage in Psalms that she recalled. Psalm 34:17-18. The righteous cry, and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles. The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.

  God is with me and eventually things will turn out for the best. God brings me comfort. She continued to read. When her eyelids drooped and she could no longer concentrate, she put the Bible back then lay on the tick. The jostling wagon had a way of lulling her, and she let her eyes close.

  When she woke, the wagon was still. Oh no! How long had she slept? A smoky smell from the cook fires drifted in, and she groaned. Scrambling, she put the tailgate down and exited. The fire had been built, its flames burning bright as smoke trailed upward, but there was no sign of her husband. A squeezing sensation pinched at her heart. Swallowing hard, she went about the preparations for supper. She set up the tripod over the fire and hung a large pot full of water. Peeling potatoes only took a short time. She cut them into smaller pieces and added them to the boiling water in the pot. There was elk meat left from the night before that she added along with jarred green beans. She added a dried basil leaf and a chopped wild onion to it.

  She’d been proud of her onion find but had no one to share her excitement with. The bread dough she’d made that morning was ready to cook in the Dutch oven and when she peeked in the butter churn she smiled. Who knew that making butter could be so easy? Declan liked butter on his bread and was always bringing milk to her in the mornings. She wouldn’t need to make any tomorrow.

  There was bound to be extra bread, and bread pudding sounded good for the next evening. Last, she put the coffee on to boil. It all smell delicious but there was no one to share it with. She pulled out the pieces to the tent and set it up. Maybe if she was away from the wagon Declan would feel more comfortable about eating there.

  After she put everything she needed in the tent, she filled a plate and brought that inside as well. Essie’s pitiful cries nearby tugged at her heart. Luella ate a bit and then went to see what was going on.

  Cora’s eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, and Harrison looked edgy and sad all at the same time.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They just buried Mrs. Chapman and her husband. She hadn’t been able to tend Essie in days and the poor little one is so weak.” Cora burst out in tears.

  “Is it the cough?”

  “Mrs. Chapman mentioned whooping cough. I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Cora, do you have honey?”

  “Yes…”

  “Good I’ll be right back. I know something that will help.” Luella ran to her wagon and grabbed the rest of the onions. Without sparing a glance at Declan, Heath, or Zander, she hurried back to Essie.

  Harrison handed her the honey, Luella set it on the tailgate, and then she went to work. She mixed the juice from the onion with some honey. “This needs to sit for four hours and when it’s ready give one teaspoon a day. Now I need to heat some water.”

  Harrison immediately hopped up and took a pan with hot water off the fire grate and brought it over.

  “This, you can do often. You mix honey with warm water and then you can give it to Nessie when she fusses. It should help with the cough. I found wild onions yesterday so I’ll look for more. If anyone has ginger or chamomile, it can be used in place of the onion. Oh, and fresh garlic can do the same. Someone may have a feeding bottle. I’d ask around but no one will talk to me…”

  Tears ran down Cora’s face. “You’ve been like a sister to me. Harrison will ask around and ask the captain if he knows. I know you’ve been going through a hard time.” She released a heavy sigh. “I may have to drip it into her mouth from a spoon.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about the Chapmans,” Luella said softly.

  “We are too.”

  “If you need me, I’ll be in the tent tonight. Don’t ask. Things are complicated. I’ll check on you all tomorrow. Get some sleep,” Luella told Cora.

  Cora bestowed Luella with one of her beautiful smiles. It made Luella feel good inside until she turned to go back to the wagon. Heaviness settled on her shoulders as she made her way back. She poured herself a cup of coffee and went into th
e tent without acknowledging the men around the cook fire.

  * * *

  Why had she put up the tent? He usually wasn’t here the whole night and he slept under the wagon between guard duties. But there it stood, reaching to the sky, the flicker of a candle inside playing on the canvas wall. Had she found out he had tonight off and was waiting in the tent for him? Zander gave him a speech every night about keeping his hands off his wife because she might bear another man’s child.

  Declan didn’t need to ask her; he already knew she was indeed pregnant. She’d almost fainted today after she was sick. The whole train had probably watched her. He was so tired of the expressions of sympathy mixed with smirks from the people he traveled with. How was he to have known about her condition? It never once came up before they married. In fact, it still hadn’t been talked about. He could ask her about it, but he didn’t want to face the truth.

  With a sigh he pulled back the flap and went into the tent. The candle flame danced with the breeze that followed him inside. He had expected her to be asleep, but instead, she sat up with her gloriously thick hair shrouding her as she read his Bible.

  Shame washed over him. He hadn’t been very Christian in his actions toward her. She was his wife. He’d married her before the Lord. His mother, bless her, would have his hide if she knew how he’d been behaving.

  “I thought you’d be asleep,” he said with a raspy quality to his voice.

  “Oh!” She glanced up with a look of surprise on her face. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I never know what your schedule is.” She went back to reading.

  He undressed and got into bed next to her. He probably shouldn’t interrupt her reading, so instead he lay on his side watching her. She was the picture of innocence. It was very deceiving… and depressing.

  Finally, she lay the Bible down and blew out the candle. She put her head on the pillow and lay on her side with her back toward him.

  “We can’t go on like this,” he murmured. “Your home should be a place you want to be, not a place you avoid. It’s time for you to tell the truth.”

  She stiffened and was quiet for a while. “It’s very sad about the Chapmans. And Essie is very sick.”

  “Yes, I know. What I’m referring to is the baby you’re carrying. You should have told me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  He balled his fists. He couldn’t make her tell him. “I think there is plenty you need to say.”

  “Good night.”

  He lay on his back staring at the tent ceiling. His frustration knew no bounds, but he stewed in silence. She’d been yelled at by her father enough to last a lifetime. She’d looked like she was afraid of Tomlin too. Maybe her father had sold her for a few nights. He just didn’t know. It had been so easy with Alana. She’d known what he was thinking, often before he did, it had seemed.

  He turned until he was facing Luella’s back. She wasn’t a deceitful woman, and if something had happened, he didn’t believe it was of her choosing. Sighing, he reached out and pulled her to him. He enclosed her in his arms and held her.

  After a moment, her body shook, and he knew she was sobbing. He didn’t let go. They had a lot to figure out but they would have to get everything out in the open so the healing could begin. Hopefully, she had found a passage in his Bible to give her some peace.

  He needed his sleep since he was driving the stock across the river. He’d volunteered for the dangerous job. Now he wished he hadn’t. He hadn’t given Luella one thought. It was his responsibility to see that she made it across safely. He’d been a fool to allow his anger to get in the way of decision making.

  It had been a scenic ride to the Mormon ferry, yet hard. They were forever going up only to go back down and then up again. The animals were tired. The mountains in their view were a spectacular sight and he’d even seen roses growing.

  They’d all been warned of the high price they’d have to pay to cross the Platte using the ferry but there wasn’t any choice. It was almost certain death to try to ford the river. Five dollars was a very dear price to pay but not as much cost as a single life.

  They woke the next morning and hurried to pack. The captain wanted an early start crossing. They could rest on the other side, he kept explaining.

  Declan didn’t like the look of the water. It seemed to be moving more rapidly than it had been the day before. He was probably making something out of nothing, he admonished himself. People crossed the river all the time. He stopped by the wagon before he rounded up the livestock.

  Luella was busy, moving efficiently and with a purpose, but there was a sadness to her that made his heart hurt. She stood as though rooted in one spot as he walked to her. Then he pulled her into his arms and held on.

  “You take care crossing,” he said gruffly.

  She gave a start of surprise. “You’re not driving the wagon?”

  “I drew the short straw, and I’ll be driving the livestock across. Heath will go across the ferry with you. Be careful.”

  She pulled back and stared up into his eyes. “You have a care too.” She hugged him close and hard for a moment and then let go.

  He stepped back and gave her a nod. “I heard what you did for Essie. You’re a good woman.” Then he walked away wishing he was taking her over on the ferry.

  Before he could think too much more, he mounted his horse and drove the livestock toward the bank of the river. He and two other drovers urged the animals into the surprisingly cold water and it took all their strength to keep on their mounts and drive the livestock across. The natural inclination was to go downstream with the force of the water, but they finally got all of them over with no mishaps.

  They drove the animals another mile or so out to a location the captain described as the stopping point. Declan wished he could get off his horse and plop down to rest but he needed to check on his wife.

  He rode up to the bank and began to talk to Earl, one of the men who ran the ferry.

  “You did right well getting those beasts across. We usually lose at least one man each crossing. Yesterday was bad. We lost two wagons. One had only had a man on it and he swam for it and survived. The other had a family of four and they are with God now.” He took a breath and stared across the river. “I’m praying for your group.”

  Declan stepped away from the man. He’d known there would be some risk, but no one told him just how treacherous it would be. His mind was occupied with only one thought. Who was driving Luella?

  He watched as the first half of the group crossed. There were too many near misses, and his nerves became stretched to their limits. Luella drove the next wagon. Wait! What had happened? Why was she driving the wagon? Fear and anger filled him. The ferry tipped as she drove the wagon onto it. Then it righted. He held his breath, and then she saw him and smiled.

  The next thing he knew the wagon was on its side in the harsh water. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of Luella anywhere. He leaped on his horse and rode along the river bank. He thought he saw her blue dress, but it disappeared so quickly he might have imagined it. The wagon smashed to pieces as it hit three large boulders. Panic filled him, his heart beat a staccato rhythm, blood pounding in his ears as he searched the churning water.

  He spurred his mount on, frantically searching the water, the rocks, the banks, his breath coming in frenzied bursts. He had to locate her. He rode for at least another hour before Heath caught up to him.

  “Did you find her?” Declan asked.

  “No, there’s been no sign of her. All the things that were in the wagon are gone too.”

  “Why weren’t you the one driving the oxen? Why was Luella holding the lines? Where were you?” His voice almost broke.

  “Rod Waverly had taken ill and Luella insisted I drive their wagon instead of his wife Sally. Zander got bogged down putting a new wheel on Leo Span’s family wagon. He said he didn’t know he was supposed to check the wheels and repair them. Let’s ride. I didn’t see any sight of her coming here
to you.”

  Declan nodded to Heath, but he couldn’t speak.

  “We’ll find her Declan.”

  They rode for hours, often doubling back in case they’d missed her somehow. Less and fewer debris from the shattered wagon floated by. Most of it had already sunk. Maybe she’d somehow made it to the bank. Maybe she’s gotten out of the water. It was a warm day, but the water had been freezing cold.

  He heard the pounding of horses running toward him and looked up, grateful to see more men from the wagon train coming to help.

  Please Lord.

  Harrison and Zander were among them.

  “Anything?” Harrison asked. He looked as worn as Declan felt.

  “No, I thought I saw something the color of her dress but it was gone in a flash. You should be with Cora and Essie.”

  “Thanks to your wife, Essie is breathing better than she has in days. Most of the wagons have gone on to camp at the spot you were at. The captain has made a huge fire hoping if she’s lost she’ll see it.” Harrison sighed, seeming to not know what to say. “I’m so sorry, Declan, I wish I had more to say.”

  Declan swallowed hard, trying to be brave. “Do you think it’s possible she got this far? The river is swift, but there are also many boulders to get by.”

  “The ferry operators only spared one man to ride the bank on their side. It was more important that they get everyone across the river—to them at least. We didn’t even know anything happened until we reached this side. I asked her father about it and he’s not one to be cheerful.”

  “How do you want to proceed?” Zander asked Declan.

  “Heath, go back and get supplies for the both of us. I’ll stay along the river and stop when it gets dark. You can catch up with me. A few of you can sweep the area around the bank for any sign of someone getting out of the water. Harrison, if you and Zander could take the ferry back to the other side and check the bank there…” He stared at the churning water. “Heath and I will spend a couple days looking. Then we’ll catch up with you.”