Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (17 page)

Later, as Sam lay in his bedroll looking at the stars that stretched across the sky endlessly, he felt insignificant.
How could I have been so selfish?
he wondered. He looked at the big dipper with the North Star shining brightly. Every night it was there like a beacon, so dependable, so steadfast and true.
I need to be like that star
, he thought.
I need to be someone my family can depend on
. He closed his eyes and made a wish. For the rest of his life, he would remember that night and his wish, and he would be forever grateful that his wish did come true.

The next day the women did the washing and baking. The children played games of tag and keep-away. Some of the men went hunting for antelope. Others made repairs to their wagons and tended to stock. Many animals had died crossing the dry and sandy desert. Some died from lack of food or water, and some from sheer exhaustion. Ben Hansson had his lariat, and he was practicing roping a steer skull he had placed on a rock when Conor Flannigan walked up.

“What are you doing, Ben?”

“I’m roping this here steer.”

Conor watched Ben deftly twirl his lasso with his right hand, and when he threw it, he let the coil in his left hand play out. The loop encircled the horns of the skull. It looked easy.

“Can I try?”

“Sure. Here, hold these coils in your left hand and twirl this loop in your right.”

Conor tried to twirl the rope like Ben had done, but instead of making an open circle, the rope came together.

“Rotate your wrist like this.” Ben showed him how to do it.

“Oh, I see.” Conor tried again with no success.

“You’re trying too hard, Conor.” Ben showed Conor again, lassoing the horns easily. Keep the fingers of your left hand slightly open or the rope won’t play out.”

Conor tried many more times before it looked like he was making progress. They both turned when they heard Brenna’s voice.

“Here you are! Conor, Da’s been looking for you. He needs your help.”

“Let me give you some rope so you can practice, Conor.” Ben went to the back of his wagon and found a length of stiff rope. “Do what I told you, and I’ll help you again in a few days.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Conor took the rope and ran off to find his da.

“You shouldn’t encourage him, Ben. He has enough idle pastimes to lose himself in.”

“This isn’t an idle pastime, Brenna. This is a skill he’ll need.”

“A skill? Catching skulls with a rope?”

Ben laughed. “You are a city girl, aren’t you? Haven’t you ever seen anyone rope a steer?”

“Yes, in Independence I did, but it looked like a game to me.”

“Sometimes it is a game, but it has a purpose. If a steer strays away, how are you going to get him back? Or if you want to brand one so you know it’s yours, you have to catch him, don’t you?”

“Brand? What do you mean?”

“Well, when cattle are out on pasture they may get mixed in with someone else’s, so you have to brand the cattle with a red hot iron so you can identify yours from theirs.”

“You burn them?” Brenna looked aghast.

“Yes, that’s how branding works.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“That’s the way it’s done.”

“Doesn’t it hurt them?”

Ben sighed. He could see this was going nowhere. “Sure it hurts them, but they get over it.”

“I think that’s brutal!”

“Well, I suppose you have a better idea?”

Brenna looked thoughtful for a moment. “Why don’t the farmers tie a colored string to their cows’ horns or legs?”

Ben guffawed loudly. “Oh, that’s a good one,” and he laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. Brenna’s face became stormy. She crossed her arms and angrily watched him. After a moment, she turned on her heel and stomped away. Before she got very far, Ben’s lasso flew up and came down around her shoulders. He tightened the line and slowly drew her back.

“Ben! Let me go!”

“In a minute,” he said. “First I want to apologize for laughing at you. I’m sorry, Brenna. That wasn’t very nice.”

Her anger disappeared. “Apology accepted. I still think it’s a horrible way to treat the poor beasts.”

Ben hugged her tightly. “I know. You’re just a softie.”

Later at the evening meal, Brenna asked her father, “Da, what do you think about branding?”

“Branding cattle? It’s very important in the west where there are no fences.”

“But it seems so cruel to the animals.”

“Aye, well, it’s the best method of keeping your cattle separate from another’s. Losing even one steer can be a hardship to a rancher. The branding helps keep everyone honest, and if you find your neighbor’s steer mixed in with yours, you can return it.”

“Ben is teaching me to use the lasso so that I can help find lost steers and rope them and bring them home,” Conor said.

“That’s wonderful, Conor. Roping is an important skill that I need to learn also. Perhaps young Ben will take on another student.”

“I’m going to practice every day so that I can be as good as Ben. He said he always keeps his lariat close by because you never know when you’ll need it.”

“Good idea,” his father agreed. Brenna looked at her ma and they both smiled. Men and boys and their toys! What next?

Kate’s Gift

Chapter Fourteen

America Falls
Mile 1235

Kate Flannigan put her hand on the small of her back. This day had been exhausting and she was hoping they would make camp soon. The trail was rough, and the grass, which had been plentiful the day before, seemed to get scarcer the farther they traveled. Yesterday they crossed the Snake River, and if she never saw another river again, it would be too soon! How many river crossings had they done since they had left Independence? She was mentally adding them up when she became aware of the faint roar of the falls. That cheered her up because camp would be close now.

“Brenna, gather some wood for the fire when you see it,” She called to her daughter. Minutes later, they were passing America Falls, and the spray from the fifty-foot drop was a welcomed relief from the heat of the day. Conor skipped back to his mother.

“Da says we’ll be camping up a ways on Birch Creek.”

“Conor, help your sister find firewood,” Kate said, and she lifted the top of the bucket to check the cream that had been churning into butter all day. At least the rough trail was good for something! Satisfied, she trotted up to where her husband Michael was guiding the teams.

“How much farther before we stop, Michael?”

“Just a few minutes more, Kate.”

“Do you think we’ll have a lay-by?” Kate asked hopefully.

“No, there’s not enough grass here. We’ll be leaving in the early morning.” He saw Kate’s face fall. “But I hear it’s a very nice creek. Maybe you can find some time to get a bath.” After the dusty day, Michael knew many of the women would want a refreshing dip in the cool water of the creek. “I heard Captain Wyatt say we’ll be having a lay-by soon.”

Kate seemed to cheer up with the news, and soon the wagons were circling for the night. After dinner and chores, Kate and Brenna made their way to the creek. They had some laundry to do, and they planned to take a little swim. Some of the other women were already in the water when they got to the edge of the creek. The water looked to be about two feet deep in the middle. Kate and Brenna stripped to their linen undergarments and waded into the water.

“Oh! It’s freezing!” Brenna exclaimed.

“It’s wonderful!” Kate said, sitting in the creek bed. “Where’s that soap, Brenna?”

They spent the following minutes washing their bodies and hair, and then put their attention to the laundry. All too soon, it was time to return to camp and turn in for the night. Then it would be a few short hours before they would awaken to do it all over again. Kate kept her mind on the promised lay-by. She needed rest. The days were too long and the nights too short. She looked over to the Bensons’ wagon. Ruth, heavy with child, was washing the dinner dishes in the light of the campfire while Rebecca tended to the little girls. Kate suddenly felt ashamed. She was young and healthy. Her children didn’t need much looking after. Why was she such a complainer? She walked the short distance to the Bensons’ camp.

“It’s a beautiful night for a dip in the creek, Ruth,” Kate said.

Ruth looked at her and smiled ruefully. “I was hoping to get into the water, but it’s getting pretty late now.” Her eyes had dark circles underneath and her cheeks were hollow.

“Come on, I’ll go with you. It’s wonderfully refreshing.”

“Go ahead, Ma. I’ll finish up the dishes,” Rebecca said.

Ruth looked longingly in the direction of the creek. “I need to get Annie and Deborah to bed,” she said wistfully.

“Dad will help me, Ma. Go with Kate,” Rebecca said.

Ruth needed no more persuading, and the two women walked arm and arm into the night.

Mile 1295

Almost a week later, they were camped on another creek, and the plan was to lay-by. The grass was abundant and there was plenty of water for the stock. Kate felt relief at finally having an extra day to catch up and to relax. The trail had been so dusty, and everyone was hoping for rain. She looked over to the Bensons’ camp. She knew Ruth was having a hard time and had been riding a lot in the wagon. The baby was due to arrive any day now. James Cardell had been a big help. His knowledge of plants and herbs had proved to be invaluable, and he kept Ruth supplied with strengthening teas and herbal supplements.

“Let’s make bread in the morning, Brenna, and don’t we have some apples? We could make a pie for dinner.”

“Sounds good, Ma,” Brenna replied.

In the morning, Brenna gathered the ingredients for the bread and began mixing the dough while Kate peeled apples for the pie. James Cardell was walking by when he saw the women busily working.

“Looks like someone will be enjoying apple pie later today,” he remarked.

“If we have enough apples, we’ll make two pies,” Kate replied.

“How would you like some raisins to add to the pie?” he asked.

“Do you have some to spare?”

“I’ll be right back,” and he turned and walked in the direction of his wagon. Soon he was back with a small bowl of raisins. “And there’s some cinnamon in there if you’d like.”

“Cinnamon! What a treat! Thank you, Mr. Cardell!”

“Please, call me James.”

“What are the benefits of cinnamon, James?” Brenna asked.

“Oh, cinnamon has many qualities. For example, it helps with digestion.”

“Is that so?” Kate replied.

“Yes, and it improves blood circulation. It’s also a calming herb.”

Kate put her nose into the bowl and inhaled deeply. The spicy aroma filled her nostrils. “I think this will be just the thing to make these pies special. Come by later and help us enjoy them.”

“I will!” James tipped his hat and left in the direction of the Bensons’ camp.

That evening before dinner, Kate finished baking the pies. The crust was delicately brown with a few slits in the top where the apples had bubbled up. She was thinking about what James Cardell had said about cinnamon being good for digestion and blood circulation. If anything plagued a heavily pregnant woman, it was indigestion, and she knew how important good blood circulation was at the end of a pregnancy. She looked over to the Bensons’ camp and spied Ruth sitting near the fire stirring a large pot and talking to James Cardell. On impulse, she picked up one of the pies and carried it over. Ruth saw her coming and stood up.

“It looks like someone was productive today,” she said.

“We were able to get two pies from our apples with the addition of James’s raisins,” Kate said, nodding at James. “This one is for you and your family, Ruth, and I want you to have an extra-large slice. James tells me the cinnamon in here will help with digestion.” The blush on Ruth’s cheeks told Kate that she was right about her digestive trouble.

“Thank you, Kate. I haven’t had the time or the inclination to do any baking. We will all enjoy this tonight.”