The complete oregon seri.., p.11
The Complete Oregon Series, page 11
“It wasn’t that bad. And you probably saved her life—again.” She wanted to lean forward and kiss his cheek, thanking him for saving the most precious thing in her life, but his stiff posture told her that he wasn’t ready to accept her thankfulness.
“Well, that seems only fair, seeing as to how I’m the one who’s responsible for her starting on this dangerous trip,” Luke said and turned away.
Before Nora could think of a response, he started to run. Nora stared after him, but then her eyes widened when she caught sight of Amy bending down to pick up something that she probably thought was a stick. “Amy! No!” she yelled and ran after Luke.
The Narrows was a haven for rattlesnakes. One of the poisonous rattlers had slithered out of its hiding place and clattered menacingly, warning the curious child to back away.
Luke reached Amy just as the snake was about to strike. There was no stone or stick to find in the vicinity, and his weapons were back in the wagon. Never slowing down, Luke careened into the rattlesnake and tried to crush it beneath his boot.
The snake slithered around and sank its fangs into Luke’s leg before his other boot came down on its head.
Cursing, Luke scanned the sandy ground for other snakes. When he found none, he sat down and pulled off his boot.
Nora wrapped a crying Amy into her arms. “Did it bite you?” she asked over Amy’s red locks.
“Yeah.” Luke pulled up his pant leg, revealing two small puncture marks right above where the edge of his boot had been. He unwrapped the bandanna from around his neck, tied it around his upper calf, and grunted as he pulled it tight. “Close your eyes, Amy.”
Amy hid her face against Nora.
Without hesitation, Luke moved his knife across the bite marks in an x-pattern.
Nora groaned. Bile rose in her throat as he squeezed with both hands and blood squirted out. She swallowed heavily. “Is it bad?”
“Not if I get all the poison out right away,” Luke murmured without looking up. He bent as if trying to get a better look at the wound.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to suck the poison out.” Luke grunted while he tried to reach the back of his calf.
Nora stared. “I don’t see how you’re going to do that, unless you’re a contortionist.”
“A what?”
Nora didn’t answer. “You can’t reach the wound. Let me do that.”
“No.” He wrapped his hands protectively around the leg, holding it out of Nora’s reach.
“We don’t have the time for childish discussions.” Nora knelt down and pulled his hands away. She gently laid her hand against his calf. It was already hot to the touch and starting to swell. Nora bent her head, absentmindedly noticing the fine black hairs that dotted the soft skin of his leg.
Luke shuddered as her lips met his skin. His breath came fast and hard. Sweat glistened on his forehead.
This poison works fast. It’s already in his system. Nora knew that time was of essence, so she took a deep breath and started to suck.
The taste of blood and the bitterness of the venom made her head spin. Her stomach started to rebel, and she wrenched her mouth away, spitting out blood and poison.
Luke moaned.
“Oooh, you like that, huh?” She winked at him, trying to lighten the mood and hide that she was nauseated and scared to death.
“That was not a moan of pleasure,” Luke said. “I’m in pain here.”
Nora lowered her lips to the wound again.
Amy tried to crawl around her to see what she was doing, but Bernice Garfield came over and pulled her away. “Mama kiss the owie. Make it good,” Amy said.
Nora nearly spat blood all over her clothes. Her tattered nerves almost made her break out in wild laughter.
Jacob Garfield handed her a small flask of whiskey and a bandage, clearly expecting Nora to handle her husband’s injury.
Her hands trembled as she opened the flask and poured some whiskey onto the incision.
Luke groaned but held still.
“I’m sorry,” Nora whispered.
Luke looked up. His normally silver-gray eyes were now a darker color, like the sky seconds before a thunderstorm broke loose. “It’s all right. It just burns a little.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nora said, nodding down at the flask in her hand. “You got hurt while you rescued Amy—for the second time today.”
Luke cleared his throat. “Well, better me than her. I don’t think she would have liked it if I cut her leg with a knife.”
Nora shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her stomach roiled again, and her tongue was starting to go numb from the poison. Her body was going into shock. Only her responsibility for her daughter kept her from breaking down completely.
“Come on. Let’s get him into the wagon,” Mrs. Garfield said. “And you, li’l one, better keep your father company before something happens again.”
Nora followed them numbly.
Between the Little Blue and the Platte River,
May 22nd, 1851
Luke leaned back against her saddle and stared out into the darkness with her carbine on her knees.
Soft footfalls approached.
She swung the barrel around.
Nora stepped into the circle of the firelight.
Luke lowered the weapon. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m standing guard. What are you doing up?”
“I brought you something to eat.” Nora held out a tin plate like a peace offering. “You hardly touched your dinner.”
Luke had been too exhausted to eat. Soon after leaving the Narrows with its serpent inhabitants behind, they had said farewell to the Little Blue, the river they had followed for days, and trudged over low sand hills—a strenuous twenty-mile trek without creeks, water, or trees for shade to rest in. After a sleepless night, sweating with the remnants of a fever, Luke hadn’t had any appetite. And she, like every other emigrant, had long since gotten tired of beans and salt pork, day after day.
But when Nora set the plate down next to Luke, it wasn’t leftover dinner.
“What’s this?” Luke mumbled around the first forkful. Sweetness exploded on her tongue, and she hummed as she swallowed.
“Fried dried apples with cinnamon,” Nora said with a proud smile.
Though Luke would never admit it, she had a sweet tooth, and she made short work of the dessert. Finally, she offered Nora the empty plate. “Thank you. After that steady diet of beans and pork, it was a real treat.”
Nora took the plate but didn’t stand and walk away as Luke had expected. Instead, she settled down next to Luke.
What does she want? She peeked at Nora from beneath the brim of her hat.
A spray of sparks popped up from the fire, and they both watched them float back to earth.
“How’s the leg?” Nora finally broke the silence.
“Fine,” Luke answered.
Nora looked at her, clearly expecting more of an answer.
“The swelling has finally gone down,” Luke said.
“Do you already feel good enough to stand guard?” Nora peered at her more closely than Luke would have liked.
Luke was not used to someone worrying about her. She wasn’t sure whether she should be annoyed or thankful. “I told you. I’m fine. I can’t very well advise the captain to double the guard and then refuse to take a turn.”
“Bill Larson did,” Nora said.
Luke held herself back from spitting into the fire. She was coming to detest Larson. He was always starting fights, avoiding the most hated male chores like chasing lost stock and standing guard at night, and if Luke wasn’t mistaken, he was beating his wife. “I wouldn’t want to do the same things that Larson does.”
Nora’s gaze met her own.
So she knows about the beatings. Nora had never said anything about it. She probably thinks it’s his right as her husband to treat her however he sees fit. Many people in the wagon train thought like that, so they looked the other way.
A loud howl interrupted the awkward silence.
Nora stared into the darkness as if trying to pinpoint the source of the howling. “Wolves?”
While traveling along the Little Blue River, the emigrants had grown used to the company of wolves at night. But this time, Luke wasn’t so sure. “That or Pawnees.”
“Pawnees?” Nora pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She shivered. “You mean Indians made that noise?”
Luke shrugged. “It’s possible. This is Pawnee country, and in this area, between the Little Blue and the Platte, they like to do most of their thieving.”
“They’re thieves?”
So far, they had mainly encountered the so-called civilized tribes, the Shawnee and the Potawatomi. These tribes spoke English, had learned the white man’s customs, and had become farmers.
“It’s a sport for their young braves,” Luke said. “They don’t attack outright. They’re clever and silent, so you don’t notice that your horses are gone until the next morning. It’s said that they can almost steal a horse from under its rider.”
“Why the howling, then?”
She’s a clever one. “They make all that noise to hide their advance. You’ll never hear rustling grass or the snap of a dry branch when wolves are howling all around you.”
Nora turned her head and looked at her, making Luke want to squirm under the intensity of her gaze. “How do you know so much about all the things along the Oregon Trail?”
Luke shrugged. “Ah, I’ve been around.”
“You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”
It wasn’t really a question, so Luke didn’t bother with an answer.
“Do you mind if I ask a question anyway?”
Luke sighed but had to suppress a smile nonetheless. On the surface, Nora was as submissive and as eager to please as Luke had expected from a woman who had worked in a brothel. But if you looked a little closer, you got glimpses of a courageous and caring woman. “I mind, but you can ask anyway.”
“What made you give up your military career and want to leave the States? I mean, what are you gonna do in Oregon?”
Luke was not used to explaining her decisions. As an officer, she had never had to justify her orders. Before she’d joined the dragoons, her decisions had affected only her and no one else. It’s not only you anymore. She’s your wife. The word still sounded strange. She’s got a right to know why you’re dragging her across the country. “I felt like the dragoons didn’t have anything to offer me anymore.” She had joined the military because she wanted order, structure, and stability in her life, but as she grew older and more secure in herself, that need began to fade. Now she wanted to make it on her own. “I saw Oregon when I led an expedition after the Cayuse Wars, and it’s good land with fertile soil in the Willamette Valley.”
Nora frowned. “You’re a farmer?”
Luke shook her head. She couldn’t imagine spending her life farming. Many of their fellow travelers were farmers, but not Luke. “No. I want to raise horses, not crops. I plan on building a horse farm.”
Nora lowered her head, dragging a branch through the ashes of the fire. “Horses, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Nora snapped the stick apart and hurled the pieces into the fire. “You couldn’t have picked a worse wife for a horse rancher than me.”
It was true. Nora had no experience with horses; that much was obvious. She couldn’t even ride, but that didn’t bother Luke. She had never thought further than reaching Oregon. A wife had never been part of her plans. In her mind, she would be alone when she was going to build a log house, when she dug a well, and when the first foal was born. She couldn’t imagine sharing her life with someone when she couldn’t share who she really was. But she also couldn’t just leave Nora and Amy upon reaching Oregon. An inexperienced woman and a child alone wouldn’t make it through the first winter.
Maybe she’ll find someone who’ll care for her. There are a lot of bachelors in Oregon who would give their right hand for a beautiful wife like her. “You’ll learn whatever you have to in order to survive,” she said.
Nora turned her head to look at her. Her green eyes appeared almost black in the light of the slowly dying fire. “Like I always have.”
Luke cleared her throat, uncomfortable with Nora’s allusion to her job as a prostitute. It was clear that Nora still thought her and Amy’s survival depended solely on herself. Part of Luke wanted to tell Nora she could depend on her, but she couldn’t make such promises—not when she knew Nora would go her own way if she ever discovered Luke’s secret.
Another howl came out of the darkness. Nora shivered. “I think I’ll turn in now.”
Luke watched her walk away until she disappeared into the night.
Platte River,
May 25th, 1851
Nora’s wagon topped a rise. She halted the oxen next to the other wagons and looked down across the prairie. In the distance, she could make out a line of white shapes that marked another wagon train, and beyond that, a broad, muddy river formed lazy S’s.
After miles and miles of only level prairie and the dust of the sand hills, the Platte River was a welcome sight. The oxen seemed to sense the water, and they quickened their steps.
As they neared the river, Nora studied the valley of the Platte that would provide the path they would follow westward for more than a month.
“Good thing we don’t have to cross the river,” Jacob Garfield said. “Looks as broad as the Missouri.”
The captain reined in his gelding next to them. “Yeah, they say the Platte is a mile wide and an inch deep.”
Nora couldn’t tell the river’s depth just by looking at it. Its color resembled more that of coffee than that of clear water.
Grass covered the plains on either side of the river, ensuring that their livestock would find enough to eat. Nora detected no trees along the banks of the Platte, though. How would they build a fire tonight?
Then she flicked the whip again and grinned as something occurred to her. Only a few short weeks ago, she would have naïvely enjoyed the sight of the river without wondering about such practical things like feed for the animals or wood for a fire.
“Mama, look!” Amy peeked out of the wagon and pointed forward. “Dat’s where the piwats live.”
Nora looked into the direction her daughter indicated. The river flowed around a long island, bigger than any of the others. It went on for miles and was covered with grass and dense timber. Ah, there’s wood on the islands.
She nearly forgot about Amy’s comment until Luke directed his mare around the wagon and asked, “Piwats? Is that a native tribe I’m not aware of?”
Nora grinned. “I think she means pirates. I’ve read her a bedtime story yesterday where a bunch of pirates lived on an island.”
“There are no pirates on Grand Island, I’m afraid, but there’s a fort at the western end of it.” Luke winked at the girl in the wagon.
Bernice Garfield strode over, her skirts rustling loudly, while Emeline Larson followed more meekly behind her. “Have you heard?” Bernice grinned from ear to ear. “We’ll reach the fort by this evening. We can visit together and see what their stores have to offer. Maybe they have fresh apples, so we could bake a pie.”
Nora smiled at her older friend’s enthusiasm. She glanced at Luke, knowing that she was expected to get his permission.
Luke nodded without hesitation.
“Great!” Bernice clapped her hands. “We’re going.”
Nora looked at Emeline, who was hanging her head. “Don’t worry if you don’t have any money to spend. We’re all just looking at things for the most part. We don’t have much to spend either.”
Emeline didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s not the money. Bill doesn’t want me to go. He says I’m to stay here and keep an eye on the wagon.”
“What?” Bernice crossed her arms over her ample chest. “But no one stays here except for a few guards, the sick, and the old.”
“He doesn’t want me to go,” Emeline said in a whisper.
Bernice still couldn’t let it go. “But why?”
Emeline picked a piece of lint from her apron. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
I bet I know why he doesn’t want her to visit the fort. Nora pressed her lips together. He wants complete control over her. Her father had been the same, and she had encountered a lot of men like Bill Larson since she had left her parents’ home.
“I could talk to your husband,” Luke said. “If he doesn’t think it’s safe for you to go alone, I could accompany you ladies to the fort.”
Nora looked at him. She studied his face, noticing the fine lines that touched the outer corners of his eyes. That’s sweet. Sweet, but clueless. “That’s not a good idea, Luke.”
He blinked. “Why not?”
Nora sighed. How could she explain that to an honorable man who would never beat his wife or control every aspect of her life? She knew that any attempt to intervene on behalf of Emeline would result in even more complications for the shy woman. Bill Larson would take his anger about them butting into his business out on his wife. Luke is a man. He has never thought about what power a man holds over his wife, because he just takes it for granted. Bill Larson is Emmy’s husband, and he has the right to decide. There’s nothing we can do about it.
“Please, don’t,” Emeline said. She clutched Luke’s sleeve, then let go as if only now becoming aware of it and backed away. “It’s all right. I don’t feel up to going anyway. I think I might be with child.” She forced a smile onto her lips.
With child? Nora stared at her. It should have been a joyful occasion, but Nora couldn’t help worrying. She couldn’t imagine Bill Larson as a loving father. Would he beat the child as he beat Emeline? But even if he did, what other options did Emeline have than to stay with him?
“Well, that seems only fair, seeing as to how I’m the one who’s responsible for her starting on this dangerous trip,” Luke said and turned away.
Before Nora could think of a response, he started to run. Nora stared after him, but then her eyes widened when she caught sight of Amy bending down to pick up something that she probably thought was a stick. “Amy! No!” she yelled and ran after Luke.
The Narrows was a haven for rattlesnakes. One of the poisonous rattlers had slithered out of its hiding place and clattered menacingly, warning the curious child to back away.
Luke reached Amy just as the snake was about to strike. There was no stone or stick to find in the vicinity, and his weapons were back in the wagon. Never slowing down, Luke careened into the rattlesnake and tried to crush it beneath his boot.
The snake slithered around and sank its fangs into Luke’s leg before his other boot came down on its head.
Cursing, Luke scanned the sandy ground for other snakes. When he found none, he sat down and pulled off his boot.
Nora wrapped a crying Amy into her arms. “Did it bite you?” she asked over Amy’s red locks.
“Yeah.” Luke pulled up his pant leg, revealing two small puncture marks right above where the edge of his boot had been. He unwrapped the bandanna from around his neck, tied it around his upper calf, and grunted as he pulled it tight. “Close your eyes, Amy.”
Amy hid her face against Nora.
Without hesitation, Luke moved his knife across the bite marks in an x-pattern.
Nora groaned. Bile rose in her throat as he squeezed with both hands and blood squirted out. She swallowed heavily. “Is it bad?”
“Not if I get all the poison out right away,” Luke murmured without looking up. He bent as if trying to get a better look at the wound.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to suck the poison out.” Luke grunted while he tried to reach the back of his calf.
Nora stared. “I don’t see how you’re going to do that, unless you’re a contortionist.”
“A what?”
Nora didn’t answer. “You can’t reach the wound. Let me do that.”
“No.” He wrapped his hands protectively around the leg, holding it out of Nora’s reach.
“We don’t have the time for childish discussions.” Nora knelt down and pulled his hands away. She gently laid her hand against his calf. It was already hot to the touch and starting to swell. Nora bent her head, absentmindedly noticing the fine black hairs that dotted the soft skin of his leg.
Luke shuddered as her lips met his skin. His breath came fast and hard. Sweat glistened on his forehead.
This poison works fast. It’s already in his system. Nora knew that time was of essence, so she took a deep breath and started to suck.
The taste of blood and the bitterness of the venom made her head spin. Her stomach started to rebel, and she wrenched her mouth away, spitting out blood and poison.
Luke moaned.
“Oooh, you like that, huh?” She winked at him, trying to lighten the mood and hide that she was nauseated and scared to death.
“That was not a moan of pleasure,” Luke said. “I’m in pain here.”
Nora lowered her lips to the wound again.
Amy tried to crawl around her to see what she was doing, but Bernice Garfield came over and pulled her away. “Mama kiss the owie. Make it good,” Amy said.
Nora nearly spat blood all over her clothes. Her tattered nerves almost made her break out in wild laughter.
Jacob Garfield handed her a small flask of whiskey and a bandage, clearly expecting Nora to handle her husband’s injury.
Her hands trembled as she opened the flask and poured some whiskey onto the incision.
Luke groaned but held still.
“I’m sorry,” Nora whispered.
Luke looked up. His normally silver-gray eyes were now a darker color, like the sky seconds before a thunderstorm broke loose. “It’s all right. It just burns a little.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nora said, nodding down at the flask in her hand. “You got hurt while you rescued Amy—for the second time today.”
Luke cleared his throat. “Well, better me than her. I don’t think she would have liked it if I cut her leg with a knife.”
Nora shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Her stomach roiled again, and her tongue was starting to go numb from the poison. Her body was going into shock. Only her responsibility for her daughter kept her from breaking down completely.
“Come on. Let’s get him into the wagon,” Mrs. Garfield said. “And you, li’l one, better keep your father company before something happens again.”
Nora followed them numbly.
Between the Little Blue and the Platte River,
May 22nd, 1851
Luke leaned back against her saddle and stared out into the darkness with her carbine on her knees.
Soft footfalls approached.
She swung the barrel around.
Nora stepped into the circle of the firelight.
Luke lowered the weapon. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m standing guard. What are you doing up?”
“I brought you something to eat.” Nora held out a tin plate like a peace offering. “You hardly touched your dinner.”
Luke had been too exhausted to eat. Soon after leaving the Narrows with its serpent inhabitants behind, they had said farewell to the Little Blue, the river they had followed for days, and trudged over low sand hills—a strenuous twenty-mile trek without creeks, water, or trees for shade to rest in. After a sleepless night, sweating with the remnants of a fever, Luke hadn’t had any appetite. And she, like every other emigrant, had long since gotten tired of beans and salt pork, day after day.
But when Nora set the plate down next to Luke, it wasn’t leftover dinner.
“What’s this?” Luke mumbled around the first forkful. Sweetness exploded on her tongue, and she hummed as she swallowed.
“Fried dried apples with cinnamon,” Nora said with a proud smile.
Though Luke would never admit it, she had a sweet tooth, and she made short work of the dessert. Finally, she offered Nora the empty plate. “Thank you. After that steady diet of beans and pork, it was a real treat.”
Nora took the plate but didn’t stand and walk away as Luke had expected. Instead, she settled down next to Luke.
What does she want? She peeked at Nora from beneath the brim of her hat.
A spray of sparks popped up from the fire, and they both watched them float back to earth.
“How’s the leg?” Nora finally broke the silence.
“Fine,” Luke answered.
Nora looked at her, clearly expecting more of an answer.
“The swelling has finally gone down,” Luke said.
“Do you already feel good enough to stand guard?” Nora peered at her more closely than Luke would have liked.
Luke was not used to someone worrying about her. She wasn’t sure whether she should be annoyed or thankful. “I told you. I’m fine. I can’t very well advise the captain to double the guard and then refuse to take a turn.”
“Bill Larson did,” Nora said.
Luke held herself back from spitting into the fire. She was coming to detest Larson. He was always starting fights, avoiding the most hated male chores like chasing lost stock and standing guard at night, and if Luke wasn’t mistaken, he was beating his wife. “I wouldn’t want to do the same things that Larson does.”
Nora’s gaze met her own.
So she knows about the beatings. Nora had never said anything about it. She probably thinks it’s his right as her husband to treat her however he sees fit. Many people in the wagon train thought like that, so they looked the other way.
A loud howl interrupted the awkward silence.
Nora stared into the darkness as if trying to pinpoint the source of the howling. “Wolves?”
While traveling along the Little Blue River, the emigrants had grown used to the company of wolves at night. But this time, Luke wasn’t so sure. “That or Pawnees.”
“Pawnees?” Nora pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She shivered. “You mean Indians made that noise?”
Luke shrugged. “It’s possible. This is Pawnee country, and in this area, between the Little Blue and the Platte, they like to do most of their thieving.”
“They’re thieves?”
So far, they had mainly encountered the so-called civilized tribes, the Shawnee and the Potawatomi. These tribes spoke English, had learned the white man’s customs, and had become farmers.
“It’s a sport for their young braves,” Luke said. “They don’t attack outright. They’re clever and silent, so you don’t notice that your horses are gone until the next morning. It’s said that they can almost steal a horse from under its rider.”
“Why the howling, then?”
She’s a clever one. “They make all that noise to hide their advance. You’ll never hear rustling grass or the snap of a dry branch when wolves are howling all around you.”
Nora turned her head and looked at her, making Luke want to squirm under the intensity of her gaze. “How do you know so much about all the things along the Oregon Trail?”
Luke shrugged. “Ah, I’ve been around.”
“You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”
It wasn’t really a question, so Luke didn’t bother with an answer.
“Do you mind if I ask a question anyway?”
Luke sighed but had to suppress a smile nonetheless. On the surface, Nora was as submissive and as eager to please as Luke had expected from a woman who had worked in a brothel. But if you looked a little closer, you got glimpses of a courageous and caring woman. “I mind, but you can ask anyway.”
“What made you give up your military career and want to leave the States? I mean, what are you gonna do in Oregon?”
Luke was not used to explaining her decisions. As an officer, she had never had to justify her orders. Before she’d joined the dragoons, her decisions had affected only her and no one else. It’s not only you anymore. She’s your wife. The word still sounded strange. She’s got a right to know why you’re dragging her across the country. “I felt like the dragoons didn’t have anything to offer me anymore.” She had joined the military because she wanted order, structure, and stability in her life, but as she grew older and more secure in herself, that need began to fade. Now she wanted to make it on her own. “I saw Oregon when I led an expedition after the Cayuse Wars, and it’s good land with fertile soil in the Willamette Valley.”
Nora frowned. “You’re a farmer?”
Luke shook her head. She couldn’t imagine spending her life farming. Many of their fellow travelers were farmers, but not Luke. “No. I want to raise horses, not crops. I plan on building a horse farm.”
Nora lowered her head, dragging a branch through the ashes of the fire. “Horses, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Nora snapped the stick apart and hurled the pieces into the fire. “You couldn’t have picked a worse wife for a horse rancher than me.”
It was true. Nora had no experience with horses; that much was obvious. She couldn’t even ride, but that didn’t bother Luke. She had never thought further than reaching Oregon. A wife had never been part of her plans. In her mind, she would be alone when she was going to build a log house, when she dug a well, and when the first foal was born. She couldn’t imagine sharing her life with someone when she couldn’t share who she really was. But she also couldn’t just leave Nora and Amy upon reaching Oregon. An inexperienced woman and a child alone wouldn’t make it through the first winter.
Maybe she’ll find someone who’ll care for her. There are a lot of bachelors in Oregon who would give their right hand for a beautiful wife like her. “You’ll learn whatever you have to in order to survive,” she said.
Nora turned her head to look at her. Her green eyes appeared almost black in the light of the slowly dying fire. “Like I always have.”
Luke cleared her throat, uncomfortable with Nora’s allusion to her job as a prostitute. It was clear that Nora still thought her and Amy’s survival depended solely on herself. Part of Luke wanted to tell Nora she could depend on her, but she couldn’t make such promises—not when she knew Nora would go her own way if she ever discovered Luke’s secret.
Another howl came out of the darkness. Nora shivered. “I think I’ll turn in now.”
Luke watched her walk away until she disappeared into the night.
Platte River,
May 25th, 1851
Nora’s wagon topped a rise. She halted the oxen next to the other wagons and looked down across the prairie. In the distance, she could make out a line of white shapes that marked another wagon train, and beyond that, a broad, muddy river formed lazy S’s.
After miles and miles of only level prairie and the dust of the sand hills, the Platte River was a welcome sight. The oxen seemed to sense the water, and they quickened their steps.
As they neared the river, Nora studied the valley of the Platte that would provide the path they would follow westward for more than a month.
“Good thing we don’t have to cross the river,” Jacob Garfield said. “Looks as broad as the Missouri.”
The captain reined in his gelding next to them. “Yeah, they say the Platte is a mile wide and an inch deep.”
Nora couldn’t tell the river’s depth just by looking at it. Its color resembled more that of coffee than that of clear water.
Grass covered the plains on either side of the river, ensuring that their livestock would find enough to eat. Nora detected no trees along the banks of the Platte, though. How would they build a fire tonight?
Then she flicked the whip again and grinned as something occurred to her. Only a few short weeks ago, she would have naïvely enjoyed the sight of the river without wondering about such practical things like feed for the animals or wood for a fire.
“Mama, look!” Amy peeked out of the wagon and pointed forward. “Dat’s where the piwats live.”
Nora looked into the direction her daughter indicated. The river flowed around a long island, bigger than any of the others. It went on for miles and was covered with grass and dense timber. Ah, there’s wood on the islands.
She nearly forgot about Amy’s comment until Luke directed his mare around the wagon and asked, “Piwats? Is that a native tribe I’m not aware of?”
Nora grinned. “I think she means pirates. I’ve read her a bedtime story yesterday where a bunch of pirates lived on an island.”
“There are no pirates on Grand Island, I’m afraid, but there’s a fort at the western end of it.” Luke winked at the girl in the wagon.
Bernice Garfield strode over, her skirts rustling loudly, while Emeline Larson followed more meekly behind her. “Have you heard?” Bernice grinned from ear to ear. “We’ll reach the fort by this evening. We can visit together and see what their stores have to offer. Maybe they have fresh apples, so we could bake a pie.”
Nora smiled at her older friend’s enthusiasm. She glanced at Luke, knowing that she was expected to get his permission.
Luke nodded without hesitation.
“Great!” Bernice clapped her hands. “We’re going.”
Nora looked at Emeline, who was hanging her head. “Don’t worry if you don’t have any money to spend. We’re all just looking at things for the most part. We don’t have much to spend either.”
Emeline didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s not the money. Bill doesn’t want me to go. He says I’m to stay here and keep an eye on the wagon.”
“What?” Bernice crossed her arms over her ample chest. “But no one stays here except for a few guards, the sick, and the old.”
“He doesn’t want me to go,” Emeline said in a whisper.
Bernice still couldn’t let it go. “But why?”
Emeline picked a piece of lint from her apron. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
I bet I know why he doesn’t want her to visit the fort. Nora pressed her lips together. He wants complete control over her. Her father had been the same, and she had encountered a lot of men like Bill Larson since she had left her parents’ home.
“I could talk to your husband,” Luke said. “If he doesn’t think it’s safe for you to go alone, I could accompany you ladies to the fort.”
Nora looked at him. She studied his face, noticing the fine lines that touched the outer corners of his eyes. That’s sweet. Sweet, but clueless. “That’s not a good idea, Luke.”
He blinked. “Why not?”
Nora sighed. How could she explain that to an honorable man who would never beat his wife or control every aspect of her life? She knew that any attempt to intervene on behalf of Emeline would result in even more complications for the shy woman. Bill Larson would take his anger about them butting into his business out on his wife. Luke is a man. He has never thought about what power a man holds over his wife, because he just takes it for granted. Bill Larson is Emmy’s husband, and he has the right to decide. There’s nothing we can do about it.
“Please, don’t,” Emeline said. She clutched Luke’s sleeve, then let go as if only now becoming aware of it and backed away. “It’s all right. I don’t feel up to going anyway. I think I might be with child.” She forced a smile onto her lips.
With child? Nora stared at her. It should have been a joyful occasion, but Nora couldn’t help worrying. She couldn’t imagine Bill Larson as a loving father. Would he beat the child as he beat Emeline? But even if he did, what other options did Emeline have than to stay with him?
