Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (6 page)

The men carrying her possessions snickered under their breath. One guffawed loudly.

Nellie followed Ernest. “Mr. Hinton! Put Miss Emily down! Please!” Buster yipped and jumped up on the back of Ernest’s knees trying to lick Emily’s face. Emily continued her tirade all the way to the boat where Ernest deposited her. Nellie grabbed Buster and scrambled in beside Emily, and Ernest swiftly pushed off. He and two other men forded the river, guiding the boat through the deepest water as Emily shrieked and clung to the sides. Brenna and Conor Flannigan were standing on the other side of the river with other families and watched the frantic woman rocking the boat in her panic.

“If she would just sit still the boat wouldn’t tip like that,” Conor observed sagely.

“She’s really scared,” Brenna said.

“I should go and help them.”

“No, you should stay right here,” and she put a protective hand on her brother’s shoulder.

For a while, it looked like they might see the first capsize of the day, and they could clearly hear the refined aristocratic young woman use language that would make a grown man blush. One woman covered the ears of her young son.

Once they made it to a stable sand bar, Emily and Nellie jumped out of the boat and waded across the rest of the muddy and shallow river. When they finally reached the far shore, Emily angrily trudged past the group of onlookers, dragging the muddy and sodden hem of her cornflower blue dress. Ernest watched her rigid back as she moved toward a stand of trees. He ran after her and they had heated words. Abel Brown watched and a cynical smile spread over his lips.

Soon, Ernest emerged from the trees and helped the men bring their wagon across the final distance of the river.

Emily found a shady and secluded bower and collapsed in a flood of frustrated tears. She had never felt so humiliated, and she was sure all of the other women regarded her as a child. She was shaking from anger at her husband for forcibly making her cross in the manner that he had, but she felt relief at the realization that she hadn’t drowned after all. It was a few minutes before she was able to compose herself and breathe more normally.

She looked at her dress. It was very wet and dirty. She searched for a dry part of her sleeve to wipe her face. She would never forgive Ernest for this. She could still hear the men snickering and see the disdainful expressions on the faces of the women as she had stormed past them. She had a mind to take a horse and ride back to Independence. She was a fine horsewoman, and she had been riding almost since she was able to walk. From Independence, she could catch a train to Ohio. She spent a few minutes enjoying this fantasy while her breathing calmed.

She was abruptly brought out of her self-pitying reverie by the sound of her husband calling to her. He had come to the edge of the trees.

“Emily, it’s time to load up.”

“You load up,” she muttered miserably. Then she pictured what the wagon would look like if Ernest loaded it. That thought motivated her to get up and find her way to their wagon.

Buster yipped and leaped up happily into her arms when he saw her. She hugged him and he licked her face. Nellie was complaining about the crossing, the river, her muddy dress, the state of the wagon, and the supplies scattered all around.

“What a mess!” she exclaimed. “I hope no one is in a hurry, because it’s going to take a while to repack all of this! How many more rivers are we going to have to cross? I declare, I didn’t sign on for any of this!”

Ernest had hitched the teams to the wagon, and the horses were tied to the side. Without a word, Emily began the task of organizing everything. In Independence, she had carefully packed to conserve space. Once the stove and organ had been left on the trail she had more room to spread out. Still, she liked to have everything in its place. She and Nellie busied themselves with the task while Ernest handed them boxes, bags, and crates. Ernest had not brought any hired help along on the trail. He had left not speaking to his father, and he had only his own money to outfit their trip and buy the supplies they would need to build their home in Oregon. Some of that money he had lost gambling. He wasn’t very good at poker, but he could never pass up a game. Abel Brown held quite a few of his I.O.U.s, but he was confident he would earn the money to pay him back once they got to Oregon.

In a short while, they were ready.

“Well that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” Ernest asked cheerily.

Emily regarded him stonily. Nellie didn’t reply, but averted her eyes and crossed her arms. The sun disappeared behind a gray cloud and thunder rolled ominously in the distance. The smile left Ernest’s face and he realized that this was going to be a long day.

He was wondering what he could do this time to lighten Emily’s mood when Abel Brown sauntered over.

Abel enjoyed watching the way Ernest handled his wife. He lacked finesse and diplomacy. He realized that Ernest had never been a lady’s man like himself. Ernest had been smitten with Miss Emily from the first time he met her, and he had pursued her until she consented to be his wife. It hadn’t been difficult to convince Emily’s father, since Ernest came from an established and wealthy neighboring family.

Abel knew Emily had consented to be Ernest’s wife because she thought she would always be close to her daddy. He speculated that Emily would most likely never see her daddy again.

Abel’s family wasn’t well connected, and their money was newer, mostly earned through risky and often illegal pursuits. They had made their fortune through horse-trading. Abel had a good eye for horseflesh, and by the young age of twenty-six, he had won a small fortune at the racetrack. He was an accomplished poker player and had funded this trip with money he had won at the tables in many towns east of the Mississippi. He usually had no trouble winning, but he wasn’t averse to cheating if he had to. There were always plenty of rich farmers who thought they were good at cards, and Abel encouraged their vanity until he had gained their confidence, and then he would play his hand and take their money.

He had met Ernest at a poker table in a saloon in Ohio, and when he won the final hand, a very large pot, Ernest had been good-natured about it.

“You’re a good poker player, Mr. Brown. You’re going to have to give me a chance to win my money back.”

Abel had encouraged Ernest’s fondness for poker. He hadn’t been averse to taking advantage of his young friend whenever he had the opportunity. Ernest already owed him quite a lot of money, and he planned to get more I.O.U.s from Ernest and some of the other travelers. He was already making plans to get a game up at the fort where they would camp tonight. Abel knew he would be a wealthy man when they reached Oregon. As he walked over to where Ernest was adjusting a harness, he saw that the Hintons’ wagon had been re-packed and was ready to roll.

“The captain says we’re going to camp at Fort Kearny this evening. It’s just a short ways from here.” He looked over to where Emily and Nellie were climbing down from the wagon.

“Miss Emily, it looks like you made it across safe and sound and are none the worse for wear!” His eyes couldn’t hide his amusement as he noted her scowl.

“Thank you, Mr. Brown. Fortunately, I didn’t drown,” she replied tersely, and gave her husband a dark look. Abel noticed she looked a little pale, but considering her ordeal, she was remarkably controlled.

“There’s a trading post and a post office at the fort if you have any letters you’d like to send home.” He tipped his hat at the women and returned to his wagon.

Emily’s expression brightened. She resolved then and there to write to her daddy and tell him she was coming home!

The Letter

Chapter Five

Fort Kearney
Mile 319

Nellie walked next to the wagon the short distance to Fort Kearny. Emily was inside pouting. Ernest was stonily silent as he concentrated on driving the team. Nellie sighed. Their behavior was typical in this marriage. Put two spoiled young people together as husband and wife and this is what you get! She regretted her choice to accompany Miss Emily.

Emily’s family had come from Virginia and settled in the Military District Lands of Ohio shortly after Emily was born. Ernest himself came from landed gentry, and he and his brother were set to inherit large tracts of rich Ohio farmland. But Ernest had been bitten by the bug and wanted to seek his fortune in the wild and untamed west. Both his father and Emily’s had tried to talk sense into him, but when Ernest’s mind was made up, no one could dissuade him.

Emily’s father, Henry Lawton, had persuaded Nellie, her personal servant, to travel with them and be a companion to Emily.

“Nellie, I know how much you love Miss Emily—like your own flesh and blood. You’ve raised her from a baby. I would be eternally grateful to you if you would accompany her and Ernest to Oregon.”

“Mr. Lawton, I am not young. I know the journey is difficult, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for any woman.”

“I agree with you, Nellie.” Mr. Lawton’s face looked troubled. “I certainly don’t want my only daughter traipsing across this country with who knows what in store for her. I’ve pleaded with that fool husband of hers, but he won’t be persuaded.” His eyes misted and he took Nellie’s hands in his.

“Please, Nellie. If you go with Emily, I’ll rest a little easier.”

Nellie’s heart softened. She couldn’t refuse the man who had always been so kind to her.

“Alright, Mr. Lawton, I’ll go. God help me, I’ll go with Miss Emily to Oregon.”

Henry Lawton had hugged her then. Nellie remembered the embrace. She had always been fond of Mr. Lawton.

“Thank you, Nellie. I will never forget your sacrifice.”

Nellie was small and wiry, and twice Emily’s age. Her features were sharp, but her warm eyes softened an otherwise fierce expression. She had married young, and two years later her husband had been killed in a brawl in one of the bars he frequented. Columbus, Ohio had been predominantly German, and once the Irish moved in with their Catholic ways, trouble was always brewing. Nellie’s husband had joined in when fighting had broken out between the German Protestants and Irish Catholics, and when the brawl was over, he was dead.

Nellie had been a young childless widow with no prospects until she found the ad in the
Ohio State Journal
placed by Emily’s family for a domestic servant. When she began working for Emily’s family, Emily was nearly three years old, and Nellie was twenty-two. Nellie had lost her only child in childbirth, so she quickly bonded to Emily, and the family made her Emily’s nanny. She loved the little girl, and Emily had always returned the affection. Emily’s own mother was cool and distant towards her, saving her love and attention for the younger brothers.

Fort Kearny appeared ahead, and Nellie looked forward to the lay-by. A number of long, flat-roofed low buildings made from sun-dried bricks were strung along the mostly flat landscape. Captain Wyatt was instructing the leading wagons to camp to one side.

Later that evening after camp had been made next to the fort, Emily composed a letter to her father. Buster lay at her feet asleep.

Nellie found her in the tent holding pen and paper, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked knowingly at Emily.

“It would be best for all concerned if you would quit your mooning and be the wife and partner you promised to be in your marriage vows.”