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Authors: Victoria Murata

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Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (16 page)

BOOK: Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852
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The two women hugged warmly, and then Emily walked back to her wagon. Ernest was leading an ox back from the river. He looked at Emily and she smiled at him brightly. “Lunch should be almost ready, Mr. Hinton.” He smiled back, relief spreading over his face. “I’m famished, Emily,” he said, and they walked companionably back to their wagon.

The Lie

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Fort Hall
August 1, 1852
Mile 1217

Sam Benson looked at his father’s serious face. He knew he could be in deep trouble. Amber, their horse—their only horse—had been stolen from him by an Indian youth about thirteen—his own age. Sam had taken the mare up river to water her during their midday stop. It was a warm day, and he was resting against a tree when the redskin came up behind him.

Sam jumped up, still clutching Amber’s lead rope in his hand. He was scared. Here was one of the bloody savages and he was defenseless. True, the savage was young and had no weapon either, but he looked so fierce that Sam was petrified. The Indian took a step forward and Sam stepped back against the tree. He looked wildly around for help, but no one was near. He had thought about yelling, but at that moment, the Indian did some fancy footwork and Sam was on the ground while the youth held the lead rope. Then he deftly leaped onto Amber’s back, scowled at Sam, and rode off without a backwards glance. Sam scrambled to his feet and started to give chase, but the horse and rider quickly outdistanced him. Humiliated, Sam watched them disappear over a hill.

He wondered what to tell his Pa. Could he tell him that a boy with no weapons and no accomplices had taken the horse from him? Sam’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He had to think of a better story. Suddenly he had an idea. He would say that Amber had run off with some wild horses the scouts had first spotted a couple of days ago. Amber was in season, and the stallion had been calling to her.

Thomas Benson was angrily contemplating his son’s story about how their only horse had run off. At the same time, he was working out how to get her back. Sam perched on the edge of the lie. He could go either way—deeper into the hole he had dug or up into the light. All he needed to say was, “that’s not exactly the truth,” as if truth could be measured on a scale from one to ten, with ten being totally true. Sam looked at his father, gauging what he thought he wanted to hear. He heard himself tell the lie again.

“It’s true, Pa. I was watering Amber when Conor and his friends came crashing out of the bushes yelling and screaming. They were playing Indians. Amber was so frightened she reared up and jerked the rope from my hands. I tried to catch her, but she was too fast.” Sam saw the resignation on his father’s face.

“I can find her, Pa. I’ll borrow the Flannigans’ horse and go look for her.” Sam watched his father carefully. He could see that his father believed him, and he began to relax. Sam had no qualms about stretching the truth if it served him. Many times he had invented stories to avoid consequences.

“No, Sam, you stay here. Next thing I’ll have a lost horse and a lost son. I’ll ask the scouts to be on the lookout for that wild band. When they’re spotted, I’ll get some help to catch her. Now go get Tom. I want you two to fetch some water for your mother.” Sam ran off in search of his brother, secure in the knowledge that his story was believed and that he wouldn’t have to face retribution, or worse, embarrassment for his carelessness.

Thomas Benson looked worriedly at the horizon.
I wonder how far that fool horse has got
, he thought. It would be a tremendous loss if they didn’t get her back. Horses weren’t cheap, and Amber was a good horse for riding and for plowing. Then there was the fact that she was in a halter, trailing a lead rope. She could get caught up in all kinds of things and not be able to free herself.
I should ride out and take a look
, he decided.
At least my mind will be eased that I did what I could to find her
. Once the decision was made, he told his wife and set off to the Flannigans’ wagon to ask Michael for the loan of his horse.

He found Michael Flannigan bent over the foot of his horse. The mare had thrown a shoe, and Michael was attaching a replacement. He stood up as Thomas approached.

“You look like a man on a mission,” Michael said, noting Thomas’s furrowed brow.

“My horse ran off. I think she’s after that band of wild horses the scouts spotted.”

“I heard the stallion last night.”

“And did you hear Amber calling back to him? She’s in season, and she’s been a handful. She got away from Sam, and I’m hoping she isn’t far off.”

“Tessa was answering the stallion, too,” Michael said, indicating his mare. “The grass has been pretty good for a couple of days, so they should be close.”

“I was hoping to borrow your horse to go look for Amber.”

“I’ve just finished replacing Tessa’s shoe. She should be fit to ride.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said, grabbing the blanket and saddle from the back of the wagon. When Tessa was saddled and bridled, Michael handed Thomas a lasso.

“Good luck. If you’re not back, I’ll help Sam get your wagon under way when we head out.”

“I appreciate it,” Thomas replied, and he and Tessa rode toward the horizon.

A little while later, Sam was surprised to see Michael Flannigan walking towards him.

“Hi, Mr. Flannigan. Have you seen my pa? We’re about to leave.”

“He’s looking for your horse, Sam. I’m here to see that everything’s okay for your departure. Have you checked the team?” Michael Flannigan’s eyes roamed over the oxen and the harnesses, making sure everything was secure. If he had noticed Sam’s face, he would have known that something was wrong. Sam’s eyes were round and his face was pale. He knew his father would never find Amber, and he was out there alone. It was a dangerous situation with all the Indians around. What if something happened to him?

“Everything looks good, Sam. I’ll let your ma know what’s going on. You should get yourself ready to drive the team.” Michael walked to the back of the wagon to talk to Ruth, Sam’s mother. Rebecca and Tommy were busy dousing the fire and cleaning up the younger children after their midday meal. Sam’s apprehension mounted when he realized he was responsible for the team.

“Mr. Flannigan, I’ve never driven the team by myself before. I don’t think I can do it. Will you help me drive them?”

Michael noted Sam’s fear and felt sorry for the boy. “I can’t do that, Sam. Conor is laid up with a sprained ankle, so there’s no one left to drive my team but me. I’ll tell the captain to check up on you when he comes by. You’ll be fine, and your pa should be back soon. Get Tom to help you.” Sam watched Michael Flannigan walk away. A feeling of doom settled over him as he realized he was responsible for this. He should have told his father the truth. Even if he found the wild band, he wouldn’t find Amber with them. Now it was too late. He hoped his father would return safely.

The afternoon was warm and dry, and the train made good time, but there was no sign of Thomas Benson when the wagons made their circle for the evening near Fort Hall. Sam was beside himself with worry. What if his father never returned? What if he had been captured by the Indians—or worse! He and Tommy unhitched the team and fed and watered them. As soon as he could, he ran to the Flannigans’ camp. Michael Flannigan was busy with his stock and Conor wasn’t able to help out while his ankle was on the mend. Brenna was helping her da as best she could.

“Where’s my pa?” Sam asked frantically.

“He’s not back yet,” Michael replied gently. He could see the boy’s agitation.

“Do you think something might have happened to him?”

“Give him a little more time, Sam,” Michael replied.

“This is all my fault!” Sam cried.

Michael looked at the boy. He could see Sam’s grief taking hold of him. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Sam. Horses are strong. If they want to go somewhere, you can’t hold them back.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Sam was near hysteria. “Amber didn’t run off. She was stolen by an Indian and I didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“What are you saying, Sam?” Michael asked incredulously.

Sam’s voice was rising. “I’m telling you that my dad isn’t going to find Amber. She’s not with the wild horses. I lied to him.” Sam hid his face in his hands and sobbed. “I didn’t want to tell him that I let an Indian boy take Amber from me, so I made up a story.”

Michael Flannigan looked at Sam, horrified. “You’ve done a terrible thing, boy. You’ve put your father in harm’s way because of your pride. More than that, you’ve put your whole family in jeopardy. Now you go back to your wagon and tell your family what you’ve done. I’m going to look for your pa.”

Sam stumbled back to his wagon trying to control his emotions. Twice he stopped to take deep breaths and compose himself. How could he tell his ma what he had done? She was already in a weakened state with the birth of the baby so close. What would they do without Pa? He had calmed himself considerably when he got to their camp. The family was sitting around the campfire, and Rebecca was cooking dinner. Everyone was strangely quiet, but Sam didn’t notice. He walked up to his ma and knelt before her.

“Ma, I have something to tell you.” His voice wavered, but he continued. “Pa isn’t back. He went looking for Amber because I told him Amber ran off.” Sam’s voice was uneven and his mouth worked uncontrollably. He took a ragged breath. “That’s not what happened, Ma. I lied to Pa because I was embarrassed about what really happened. Amber was taken from me.” Sam bowed his head and his shoulders shook. He struggled to control his voice. “An Indian boy took her, and I didn’t stop him. Now Pa is out there looking for Amber. He’ll never find her, Ma. This is all my fault. I don’t know what to do.” Sam buried his face in his mother’s lap, sobbing.

Ruth Benson gently lifted her son’s face in her hands. She wiped his tears with her apron. “I reckon you’ve had enough heartache over this,” she said tremulously. Sam looked at her sorrowfully. Ruth looked behind her and said, “Come on out here now.” Thomas Benson walked out from behind the wagon. Sam’s faced drained of color.

“Pa!”

Thomas walked up to Sam, and Sam stood up and faced his father. They looked solemnly at each other before Sam threw himself into his father’s arms.

“Pa, I was so worried about you!” After a few moments, Thomas took hold of Sam’s arms and held him away from him.

“I got back after the wagons had circled. I never found the horses. I thought something was odd when Michael was doing all the chores without a sign of Conor. While I was brushing Tessa down, I asked him about it and he said Conor had sprained his ankle pretty good yesterday and had been laid up all day. I thought to myself, how could Conor and his friends have scared Amber if he was laid up all day? I mentioned this to Michael, and that’s when we saw you coming. I hid behind their wagon and listened to you tell Michael what had happened. I’ll tell you, Sam, I am pretty disappointed.”

Sam was calm now, but he couldn’t look his father in the eye. He listened quietly, head bent.

“I’m not going to say I don’t understand why you did what you did,” Thomas said. “But a man would have told the truth, even if it meant he would look foolish. We’re in a dire situation out here in the middle of nowhere. Every day we are somewhere none of us has been before. Anything can happen, and we all need to stick together. That means we have to put our own feelings to the side and think of the others first. Can you understand that?” Sam nodded dumbly.

“I need to know I can count on you, Sam.”

Sam took a ragged breath and looked up. His gaze was steady, and he met his dad’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Pa. You’re right. I have been thinking of myself and it hasn’t been fair to you or to anyone else.” He looked around the campfire at his family. They were watching him solemnly.

“I want to earn your trust, Pa. I’m willing to do anything to get that back.” Thomas Benson looked at his son. Sam seemed a little taller. His shoulders were slightly broader.
Hard lessons are best
, he thought. They helped grow a man. This had been a tough one, but everyone was still here. He knew his son was telling the truth. Without breaking eye contact, he dropped his right hand and extended it to Sam. Sam took it and clasped it tightly. Then they embraced warmly, and little Deborah and Annie came up and hugged both of their legs. Soon, the moment was over. They ate dinner together and got ready for the night.

BOOK: Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852
6.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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