Oregon Trail Boxed Set

by Hutton, Callie

  “Emma, did you make up that list?” He strolled into the kitchen.

  “Oh, sorry, I was just daydreaming. I’ll do it right away.”

  She groaned and kneaded her back as she got up from the chair and shuffled over to the counter to write her list.

  “Honey, you don’t look too good. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I think I’m just tired. I would be fine if it wasn’t for this backache.”

  “I want you to lie down while I’m gone. No hanging curtains or putting up other doodads today.” He tilted her chin up and gave her a quick kiss before heading to the door. He turned back with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to make this a quick trip.”

  An hour later the snow began to fall when Davis was about fifteen minutes outside of Oregon City. Rather than starting off slow as many storms do, this one kicked right in. Within minutes, a fine layer of white covered the ground. Davis hunkered down in the wagon, pulling the collar of his coat up and hurried the horses. If it kept falling at this rate, it could be hard to get home. He pulled his hat down as the blinding snow whirled around and hit him in the face like tiny needles.

  The mercantile was dark, the “closed” sign displayed in the window. Davis tied the horses to the hitching post and banged on the door. He wiped the snow off the small glass, and peered in. The curtain separating the store from the house area moved, and Davis spotted Hans hurrying to the door.

  “What are you doing out here in this terrible weather?” He asked as he closed the door behind him and fumbled with the kerosene lantern. “Come into the kitchen. Mae has coffee on. When we saw the snow falling, we decided to close up since we didn’t think anyone would come out.”

  Davis smiled as he unbuttoned his coat, thinking that was the longest speech he’d ever heard the usually taciturn man make.

  “Davis, oh my, with the snow falling, you’re out here? Where is your lovely wife, I hope she didn’t come with you? Do you want some coffee or tea? Here, sit, sit, Hans add more wood to the fire so Davis can warm up.” Mae clucked at him while she took his hat and coat and laid them over a chair near the fire.

  “Coffee sounds good,” Davis said. “I had to pick up a few things, which I thought I could do before the snow came, but it started sooner than I would have liked.” He rubbed his hands together.

  “And Emma is home?” Mae asked as she put a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Yes. She didn’t feel too good today, so I’m glad now she didn’t come with the snow being so heavy already.”

  “Oh my poor little missy. What’s wrong, that she doesn’t feel good?”

  “She said she’s had a backache all night. Most likely from hanging curtains yesterday.” Davis blew on the coffee and took a sip of the steaming liquid.

  “A backache?” Mae stared intently at him.

  “Yes, that’s what she said, why? You look so serious.” A slight twinge of concern raced through him at the older woman’s reaction.

  “And she had this backache how long?” She asked again in that serious voice.

  “All night. I told her to lie down while I was gone, and not to hang anymore curtains.” He put the cup down and watched Mae closely.

  “Davis, not to worry you too much, but many times a woman’s labor starts as a backache.” She reached over and patted his hand, concern written on her face.

  “But the baby’s not due until next month.” Now he was remembering how tired Emma looked even after a night’s sleep. Did she sleep at all? “What should I do?” He started to get up and reach for his coat and gloves. “Do you think I should get the doctor?”

  Mae thought for a minute. “I’ll send Hans to Dr. Quigley’s house and see if he can go out to your place. I think you should go on home and make sure everything is all right with our little missy. Not to worry, Emma’s a young and healthy woman. Besides, it’s probably just a backache like she said.” Then she added, “But hurry, the snow’s getting worse and you need to get home.” Contradicting her earlier words.

  Forgetting why he came to begin with, Davis left the store and untying the horses, jumped onto the wagon seat and headed for home. The snow was now a few inches deep on the road, and he prayed his race home would be for nothing.

  * * *

  Lying down was probably a good idea. After washing the breakfast dishes, and rubbing her back now and then, Emma plodded to the bedroom and crawled into bed.

  She tossed on the mattress, troubled by dreams of when she had the flu on the wagon train. Hot and sweaty, everything hurt. As she came closer to consciousness, she realized the hurt wasn’t actually everywhere, but in her stomach. A strong pain shot from around her back to her front, and moaning, she sat up with a start and grabbed her stomach.

  God, no, I’m in labor!

  The pains in her back that troubled her all night were now stronger, but they came from around her back to her middle. She felt a strong cramp and watched, fascinated, as her stomach muscles tightened and rippled. She gulped air, attempting to catch her breath. The pain seemed to reach a peak, and then lessen. As the pain subsided, the panic hit. She was in labor, and all alone.

  Thoughts raced through her mind. It seemed like hours since Davis had left. She slid from the bed and made her way to the front window. She grabbed the windowsill as another pain hit, and blinked in horror at the ground completely covered in snow. And Davis with the wagon nowhere in sight.

  She tried to remember all the things Dr. Quigley had told her, as well as the stories she had heard on the wagon train about childbirth, but fear overtook her and she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to do. She brushed away the tears that had fallen, mixed with beads of sweat.

  Unsure what to do, she striped her sweat soaked dress and undergarments off, then pulled on a nightgown. Shivering in the cold air, she no sooner edged the garment down than she felt a gush of water from between her legs. Lord, she remembered this one. Now she knew for sure she was in labor.

  Slowly she made her way downstairs to the washroom. She clutched the handrail as another pain hit, taking her breath away. Sweat broke out on her whole body, and she sank to her bottom on the stairs. She took a deep breath when the pain passed and continued on down the stairs and retrieved towels from the washroom.

  Dragging herself back up the stairs, she was almost to the top when another pain gripped her. By now she was crying and terrified. Ignoring the mess on the floor, and the wet clinging nightgown, Emma crawled up on the bed, rolled over on her side and clutched her stomach as another pain washed over her. “Mama,” she sobbed.

  23

  Blinding snow swirled around Davis as he tried to keep the horse and wagon on the road. The usual landmarks were no longer visible, and he wasn’t even sure he was going in the right direction. Stinging snow hit him in the face. He pulled his hat down low and the collar up on his coat for added protection.

  The horse plodded on, but Davis soon realized the wagon was slowing him down. He pulled up on the reins and climbed off the wagon seat. Unhitching the horse, he led him forward, away from the wagon. Wiping snow from his eyes, he grabbed the mane, and swung his leg over. Squeezing his knees together to get the horse going, they started forward, leaving the wagon behind. Without a saddle, the horse’s slick back was slippery, and he had to fight to stay on.

  He was able to go a little faster, but now with the ground covered in snow, he worried the horse might step in a hole and break its leg. Please God let it just be a backache. It terrified him to think that Emma might be alone and in labor.

  * * *

  Emma was awakened from a light sleep with a strong pain, causing her stomach to clench. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the sheets underneath her. Another fine sheen of sweat broke out on her body.

  Now fully dark, she finally admitted to herself she had to do this alone. Another pain gathered strength, this one stronger than the others.

  Well, it’s up to me. This time there’s no one to rescue me. I’m the mama now, and I h
ave to do it.

  A wave of strength washed over her, a feeling of purpose and confidence. She began to prepare herself. Biting her lip so hard she tasted blood, she eased the nightgown up over her hips and spread towels under her. Sweating and panting, and wiping away tears, she tied a sheet over the headboard, and pulled on it when the pains came. Then she remembered the women talking about pushing with the pains.

  The next time a pain shot through her she screamed a word she didn’t realized she knew, and pushed until she felt as though she would explode. It didn’t make the pain any easier, but concentrating on the pushing kept her from thinking too much about being alone. Exhausted, she fell back on the pillow and wondered again where Davis was. Damn him

  * * *

  Despite the darkness, and familiar roads disappearing in the snow, Davis spotted a few familiar landmarks. The Kennedy farm stood off to his left. A few miles down the road he passed Jenkin’s livery. He sighed in relief when his white farmhouse appeared in his view. Instantly, his mouth dried up at the yawning black shadow of the structure. It sat silent and dark, no lights glowing from within. By now Emma would have lit some of the kerosene lamps. Panic caused him to smack the horse’s rump.

  Reaching the house, he slid off the horse and waded through the snow to the front door. “Emma!” he shouted. “Emma! Where are you?” Davis shook off as much snow as he could and dropping his coat, gloves and hat on the floor, raced up the stairs.

  He skidded to a stop. The bedroom was a mess. A large puddle sat on the floor, and clothes were strewn around the room. His wife was perched on the bed, her hair matted and tangled, and tears poured down her face. She seemed to be pulling on something tied to the bedpost. Her nightgown was wrapped around her waist and she was moaning.

  “Oh my God,” he choked. “Honey, what can I do?”

  “It’s about damn time you got here,” she growled. Then her features collapsed and she spoke through her tears. “Thank God you’re here. I’m in labor.”

  Given her initial greeting, he decided it was not the best time to point out he’d already guessed that.

  “Is Dr. Quigley coming?”

  “I don’t know for sure. When I left Hans he was going to see the doctor to let him know you were most likely in labor. Mae guessed that when I told her about your backache. Then it took me forever to get here. The snow is bad.”

  “Then we’ll have to do it ourselves.” She panted and grunted as another pain hit her.

  “What should I do?” Davis licked his dry lips, trying hard not to fall apart. Like most men, the secrets of childbirth were something he had never intended to view first hand. He didn’t mind being there back when it all started, but certainly this end result wasn’t something most men felt kindly about bearing witness to.

  “Get some more towels and heat water up. Find my good kitchen scissors and wash them well. Oh, and see if you can mop up the water on the floor.” She howled once more and gripped the sheets. “Now!”

  Davis raced from the room.

  * * *

  He’d been home two hours and Emma was still gripping the sheet and moaning in pain. He had cleaned up the bedroom, changed her nightgown, and had the scissors, towels and hot water ready. He fingered a cloth he kept dipping into cool water that he used to wipe her face.

  He was starting to get worried. Emma looked exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes grew more prominent, almost as if she’d been hit. The most frightening times were when she wasn’t sure where she was.

  She’d given up on grasping the sheet, and now just tossed her head back and forth and pulled her knees up and groaned as the pains came. The pains now seemed to be more intense, and came quicker. He hoped that meant the baby was almost ready to come out.

  “Damn, don’t just stand there staring at me. I think the baby’s coming.” Emma gasped as another pain ripped through her. “Help me to sit up; I think that’s the best way.”

  Once settled, she cupped his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand why I’m nasty like this.”

  Davis shook his head, terrified she wouldn’t make it through the birth. She looked so exhausted. He scooted to the end of the bed and checked between her legs. “Honey, I think I see the baby’s head!” He grinned at her. “Now you need to push.”

  “I’m so tired, I can’t do it.” She collapsed against the pillows and closed her eyes. Then she shot back up when another pain rippled her stomach. “I can’t take any more of this!” she screamed.

  “Dammit, yes, you can, darlin’. I’ll get behind you and you need to push the next time you have a pain.” He moved behind her, and pulling up on her knees yelled, “Push. Push, Emma. You can do it, honey, come on.”

  Emma gave one big screech and the baby slid out, screaming. Davis released her knees and picked up the slippery baby.

  “It’s a girl, Emma! We have a daughter!”

  “Let me see her.” Emma’s tongue swiped her dry lips, and the tears that slid down her cheeks.

  “I’ll clean her up first, honey. She’s all sticky.” He dipped a towel into the warm water and gently wiped the small body off. Then he laid her on Emma’s stomach as he used the clean scissors to cut the cord. Within minutes she expelled the rest of the afterbirth, which he wrapped in a towel.

  They both examined the baby, marveling at her tiny fingers and toes. She had a head full of dark curly hair. Her skin was soft and red. She continued to wail and wave her little fists in the air.

  “Maybe she’s hungry.” Davis studied this little scrap of humanity.

  Emma took the baby in her arms and guided her mouth to her breast. Immediately, the tiny rosebud mouth latched on to her nipple and began to suckle.

  Emma looked up at Davis with tears in her eyes. “She’s perfect.”

  * * *

  After the baby had comforted herself and quieted down, Davis eased her from an exhausted new mother. All fumbling fingers, he diapered the baby’s bottom, wrestled on one of the little gowns Emma had made for her, then placed her in the cradle next to the bed. He turned his attentions to his wife, brushing her tangled hair, then helping her into a clean nightgown. All the while he cast glances at the sweet little bundle in the cradle. Soon Emma joined her daughter in slumber.

  Too excited to sleep himself, he cleaned up the rest of the room before tucking the covers over mother and daughter. Assured that the fireplace was burning brightly, he quietly closed the door.

  As he entered the kitchen, Davis glanced at the clock ticking on the counter. Two o’clock in the morning, and the house was now quiet. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, going over in his mind the events of this amazing night.

  His wife had come a long way since the day he’d met the scared little girl who wanted her mama. She’d practically given birth all by herself. He grinned at the yelling and screaming she’d hurled at him, wondering if most women did that.

  Soon his thoughts drifted off to life with a baby, and how different their days and nights would be. He yawned several times, and then laid his head on the cushion of his crossed arms resting on the table.

  The sun peeked through the windows, showing off Mother Nature’s handiwork. Davis moved his head and groaned at the pain in his neck. He rotated his head to ease the muscles, and pushed aside the forgotten cup of coffee.

  He glanced out the window at the snow, a couple of feet deep, covering the ground, bushes and trees like a huge white blanket. Small animals poked their heads up from their cozy nests to examine the cold white covering. An eagle swooped down, looking for his breakfast.

  Confused, he took in his surroundings, not sure why he was in the kitchen, fully dressed, and sleeping on the table. Then it came back to him in a rush. The baby. They had a daughter. And Emma seemed to be fine after her ordeal. Apparently, upstairs mother and daughter slept peacefully, no testimony to the turmoil of the day before.

  Slowly Davis stood, stretching his cramped muscles. The fire in the kitchen had died down,
and he rubbed his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm up.

  He gathered wood from the mudroom and soon had a fire roaring in the kitchen stove. Then he went upstairs to check on his family. Both his girls looked peaceful, but as he leaned over the baby, she started to fuss. Emma opened her eyes and studied him as he lifted the precious bundle out of the cradle.

  He moved to her side and sat, then placed her gently in Emma’s arms. “I think she’s hungry again.”

  “We should probably change her first.”

  He frowned. “You think so?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She laughed, and handed the baby back.

  After his daughter was dry, but still fussy, he returned her to Emma who unbuttoned the front of her nightgown, and brought the small rosebud mouth to her nipple.

  “We haven’t picked out a name.” Emma ran her fingers over the downy head cuddled next to her breast. “I was certain we were having a boy.” She glanced at him. “Are you disappointed?”

  Disappointed? He was so enthralled with his little miracle, he felt as though a fist punched him in the chest every time he looked at her. Still shaken to the core that he and Emma coming together as one had created this wondrous new person, he shook his head.

  “No. Not at all. Do you have a name you like?” He inhaled a shaky breath, attempting to get himself under control. Nothing in his life had ever affected him like the sight before him. His wife and his daughter, attached to each other with a bond unlike anything else.

  “How do you like ‘Caroline’?”

  “Sounds fine to me. Caroline it is.”

  “Yes, Caroline Elizabeth.”