Westward Hearts (39 page)

After what seemed a long wait at the crowded post office, Elizabeth was disappointed to discover that once again there was no word from their relatives in Oregon. She only hoped this didn’t mean that some harm or misfortune had befallen them. Since embarking on this journey, Asa had heard rumors of Indian troubles in the same area they were headed to. Although he’d tried to dismiss them or play them down, Elizabeth had felt concerned then, and she was even more concerned now that she still hadn’t received a letter. John and Malinda would have had plenty of time to respond by now. What if something serious had happened to them? Something Elizabeth and her family wouldn’t discover until they arrived there—until it was too late?

“May we go look at the Indian crafts?” Ruth asked hopefully.

For some reason, Elizabeth bristled at this suggestion, uncomfortably switching the rolled-up Hudson Bay blanket to her other arm.

“They have some blankets.” Ruth pointed to some small woven goods laid out on the ground and covered with dust.

“I don’t think those are exactly what your grandmother had in mind.” Elizabeth frowned over to where the Indian women, just like in Fort Kearney, had their wares spread out in hopes of trading or selling. But truth be told, Elizabeth had no interest in dealing with Indians today. Just seeing those bareheaded women of all ages, shapes, and sizes sitting in the bright afternoon sunshine and chattering among themselves reminded her of Eli. More specifically, it reminded her of Eli’s questionable past. And that was something she didn’t care to think of at all. “Come on, Ruth, let’s go look for Grandma.”

“But I brought my own money,” Ruth pleaded. “I thought I could buy my own wedding present for Matthew and Jess. I want to get them something that’s made by the Indians. They both like my moccasins. Maybe I can find some for them too.”

“Oh, they probably don’t want—” Elizabeth stopped herself. What was she saying? Why was she imposing her fears and prejudices upon her child? “Well, I suppose you can look a bit, if you really want to. But don’t take too long. I promised Grandma we’d be ready to return to camp by three. There’s lots of work to be done. Besides our usual chores, we have all the wedding preparations to consider as well.”

This time Elizabeth stayed back while Ruth strolled along, examining the wares and picking up various items, carefully examining each one as if she were a seasoned trader of Indian goods. Finally Ruth seemed to latch onto an intricately made basket. With an interesting design in the basket’s weave, it also had a woven lid with some large glass beads on the top. “Isn’t this pretty, Mama?”

Elizabeth simply nodded. “Yes, it is.” Then feeling guilty for letting Ruth haggle over the price on her own, Elizabeth finally stepped in and listened. But assured that the old woman was asking a fair price, she decided not to intervene. After all, it must have taken many hours to weave such a basket. However, Elizabeth watched as Ruth carefully counted out her money and paid the woman, who seemed satisfied with the trade. Then with a pleased expression, Ruth walked proudly with the pretty basket cradled in her arms. And Elizabeth was glad she’d allowed her to shop there.

“That’s a lovely wedding gift,” Elizabeth conceded as they went over to join some women from their unit. “I’m sure Matthew and Jess will appreciate it. It will be a wonderful keepsake of this journey.”

“And I bought it all by myself,” Ruth proclaimed.

With much to be done in preparation for the wedding, as well as the chores that came with daily living, the next couple of days passed all too quickly. And the June weather had been as pleasant as could be, each day prettier than the one before with tall green prairie grasses, tinged with occasional patches of wildflowers, blowing gently in the breeze. Temperate days and warm sunshine made the hardships of travel highly endurable. In times such as these, Elizabeth thought she could continue on like this indefinitely, and she said as much to her family as they were packing up to leave in the middle of the week.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Asa warned as he knocked dust from his hat and secured it onto his head. “According to the captain, it’s all about to change.”

“To change?” Ruth looked concerned. “What’s going to happen, Grandpa?”

“We start climbing higher tomorrow,” he explained. “Bound for South Pass in the upcoming week.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, Ruthie. To get to Oregon we have to get over some mountains first.”

Her eyes lit up. “I can’t wait to see the mountains, Grandpa. I think it’ll be real exciting.”

He nodded as he tapped his pipe onto a rock to empty the ashes. “It
will
be exciting. But it’s also a big challenge. Towing a heavily loaded wagon uphill is extra hard on the teams. And it’s hard on the people too. We’re coming to the part of the journey where our grist will be truly tried. The strength of our wagons and our livestock and even the emigrants will all be sorely tested.” He glanced at Clara. “It’s fortunate we’ve had plenty of time to toughen ourselves up, my dear. I doubt we’d have fared too well if we’d started out as greenhorns at this stage of the trip.”

“But we’ll be all right, won’t we, Grandpa?” Ruth looked at him with wide eyes. “All of us? And the animals too?”

“With the help of the good Lord, we will all make it just fine. But it’ll be hard work.” He cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is, enjoy these next few days because the easy part of this journey is about to end. And now it’s time to load up and get moving.”

Elizabeth asked JT to drive so she could sit beside him and sew. Meanwhile, Brady would ride with Matthew, and Ruth had invited Tillie to ride with her and her grandparents. But just as the wagons were starting to roll, JT grew alarmed.

“Ma, we forgot Flax.”

“Forgot him?” She looked around their cleared-out camp. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he told her. “Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Wasn’t he here last night? At bedtime?”

JT bit his lip. “He kept fussing in my hammock,” he told her. “So I put him out to sleep.”

“Oh, well, that’s to be expected.” She glanced around. “Maybe he’s riding with Matthew or Grandpa. Why don’t you run and check before we start moving?”

JT hopped down and ran up ahead, but when he returned, his expression was even graver. “No one’s seen him, Ma. Can I go call for him?” he asked.

Now the wagons were just starting to move, and Elizabeth was unsure of what to do, so she pulled her wagon out of the line and then ran up ahead to explain to her father. “Flax is probably just over by the river,” she called out as she walked alongside. “Do you mind if I stay back until we find him?”

Asa looked perplexed and then glanced over his shoulder. “Since our unit is last this week, it won’t be as if you’re holding others up. But don’t take long, Lizzie.”

“Don’t worry, we should be along shortly,” she promised. “Flax never goes far. Besides, you know my team can move faster than the others anyway.”

He grinned. “Beau and Belle might like a chance to kick up their heels.”

She nodded, pulling James’ old barn jacket more snugly around as she stepped away. She knew she resembled an old farmer’s wife whenever she wore this coat, but it was just the right weight to keep off the morning chill.

“Don’t let the train get out of your sight,” Asa yelled out at her as he popped the reins and his team started to move faster. She nodded, waving, and then turned back to join JT. “We have to hurry,” she told him. “Do you think Flax might be down by the river?”

“I’m sure of it,” JT said.

Together they hurried down to the river, calling and whistling all the way. But once they reached the water, there was no sign of the beloved yellow dog. “Do you think he fell in?” JT asked with fearful eyes.

“I doubt it. And even if he did, Flax is a good swimmer. And the river’s not too deep or swift right here.”

JT looked all around, calling and whistling some more. Still, there was no sign of the dog. “JT, I hate to say it, but we have to go,” she told him. “I promised Grandpa.”

“Let me just run downriver a little ways,” JT said. “Back to where I went fishing with Grandpa and Brady last night. Flax had been real interested in an old stump. Maybe he went back there.”

“You can’t go alone,” she told him. “I’ll go with you, but we’re going to move fast.”

So they ran and walked downriver, calling and whistling all the while. Still no sign of the dog.

“JT, that’s it. We have to go
now,”
she insisted.

JT nodded, but Elizabeth could see the tears gathering in his eyes. And the lump in her throat seemed to grow bigger with each step. Still, she couldn’t allow them to keep looking. She’d promised her father.

“Flax was the best dog ever,” she said sadly as they trudged back toward the wagon.

“Don’t say
was,
Ma. He’s still alive. I just know it.”

“Well, yes, I’m sure he is alive. Why wouldn’t he be? It’s just that…well…” She couldn’t think of one single comforting word to say to her brokenhearted son.

As they reached their wagon, which looked strangely forlorn with all the other wagons a good distance up the trail now, JT whistled and called some more. Then he begged to go back down the trail a spell. “Maybe he smelled something back there,” he told her. “Like a fox or something. You know how he loves to chase critters.”

She peered at the tail end of the wagon train, still within sight, but getting smaller by the minute. “I don’t know.”

“Please, Ma. Flax has been my best friend ever since I can remember. And I didn’t let him sleep with me last night, so it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, JT. Flax just ran off. You can’t blame yourself.”

“But how can I just leave him behind like this? You know what’ll happen to him out here on his own, don’t you?”

She looked at the train and then back at JT as he used the back of his fist to wipe a stray tear. “We can only go a short ways back, son. And while you call and whistle, I’m going to pray. God has gotten us through some other predicaments. If he wants us to find Flax, I’m sure he can do that too.” So as they walked and as JT whistled and called, she prayed, begging God to send their dog back to them. She felt a tiny bit silly, not to mention doubtful, but at the same time the thought of losing Flax out here was more painful than she would have imagined possible.

Goodness gracious, she told herself, he was only a dog. And yet James had picked Flax out as a pup. Flax was going to be James’ hunting dog. But the children had fallen in love with the fuzzy yellow pup, and before long he became a house pet. And then after James passed, he became a trusted watchdog. “Dear God,” she prayed out loud, “we don’t just love Flax, we need him too. Please send him back to us.”

Still there was no sign of the dog, and she knew they couldn’t continue. Already she knew she’d have to push the team hard to catch up with the others before her father got worried.

“JT,” she insisted. “That’s it. We have to go. I promised Grandpa.” She turned around, and to her surprise, they’d gone a fair ways from their own wagon. Worse yet, she could barely see the end of the wagon train. “Hurry, JT. I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get moving and rejoin the others.”

They walked and ran back to the wagon and were just climbing up when JT spoke out in an unsteady voice. “
Ma…?
”

Worried that he was about to break down into real sobs over the missing dog, she turned to him, ready to comfort him as she reached for the brake, but then she noticed he was pointing to the north with a worried expression. She leaned over to see past him, and there coming directly toward them was what looked like a small band of Indians. With her hand still on the brake, she was tempted to let it go—and go fast. But although she knew her horses were swift, she also knew that they couldn’t pull a fully loaded wagon faster than the Indians coming directly toward them. Plus there appeared to be at least a dozen of them. Maybe more.

“Should I get the gun?” JT started to reach beneath the seat.

“No,” she said quietly. The riders were so close and so many, she knew that to shoot would be not only useless but dangerous as well. She took her hand off the still-locked brake. “You stay in the wagon, JT.”

“Are you getting out?” he asked with concern.

“Yes. I want you to stay put,” she said firmly.