Cora's Deception (9781476398280) (2 page)

~*~

“Mother!” Lenny’s screams pierced Cora’s
sleep. She sat up, immediately awake.

A strange, fiery light streaked across the
dark sky, plunging close to the earth before disappearing. One
after another, the fire lights came without end. Cora sat
spellbound while her heart nearly burst in frenzied fear. Had her
complaining brought this on? In her imagination she saw God pluck
and hurtle the stars toward their camp.

“We’ll be killed.” Eliza clambered over the
quilts and grabbed Cora in a death grip. Sobs shook her frame.

Vickie clung to her husband, crying against
his chest, their young son pressed between them. “It’s the end of
the world. It is, isn’t it, John?” Her voice barely reached Cora’s
comprehension.

“I don’t know.” John’s voice trembled. He
looked wild-eyed at the sky. “No, of course not.”

“What is going on, Father?” Ben always tried
to put on a brave front. “There must be some logical
explanation.”

Father shook his head. “Probably. Looks like
every star in the sky is going to fall tonight. I’ve heard of
meteor showers. Maybe that’s what this is.”

Cora clutched Eliza close as the frightful
display continued. Fear invaded her heart. Was this the judgment of
God on a wicked world? Once a visiting minister had come to their
church and talked of God’s judgment to come. He paced back and
forth behind the pulpit, his face red, his eyes bulging as he
shouted accusations and threats against the congregation. Cora
squirmed that morning, wishing she could shut out the frightful
words.

Later, when church ended, Mother told her
not to worry about things like that. God didn’t judge good people.
Father said their quiet, educated pastor shouldn’t have allowed
such a man to take over his pulpit.

Still, the spectacular scene continued above
Cora’s head, and she wondered. She knew deep in her heart she
wasn’t always such a good person. Maybe she was too rebellious.
Flaming fragments of rock streaked through the atmosphere and
burned out before plunging to the earth below. An occasional ping
sounded as one hit nearby and she cringed from the sound. But none
touched any of them. Surely, Mother was right. God didn’t punish
good people. Her family attended church. They had for as long as
Cora could remember.

She closed her eyes, and with tears
streaming down her cheeks, prayed that God would spare their lives.
Surely, this was a sign that the wilderness was not habitable. This
would not have happened in Saint Louis.

Cora’s body grew stiff from holding Eliza
until the fiery missiles began to thin and stopped with the first
rays of the sun reaching toward them from the eastern horizon.
Eliza pulled away and Cora flexed her muscles. She was cold and
stiff. Sharp prickles ran the length of her legs when she moved
them.

“Ouch!” She stretched out and lay down,
letting circulation return.

Eliza had no such problem. She stood and
started folding her bedroll. “Looks like we aren’t going to die
after all.”

If Cora could’ve moved,
she’d have given her sister more than a withering look. Her heart
would never beat normally again.
The
Kickapoo Indians gave the land back.
George’s words haunted her. Now she understood why. Indians
were smarter than white men. “How can you be so calm after all we
just went through?”

“I don’t guess I’m all that calm inside, but
it’s over now. There’s really no sense in sitting around worrying
about what’s done.” Eliza lifted her bedroll. “You’d better get
your stuff put away. Father said he wanted to get an early
start.”

Cora made a face at her sister’s back. If
last night wasn’t God’s judgment for their wrong doings, it was a
warning. A warning to stay out of this forsaken land. But Father
would never turn back. Mother, too, seemed happy to be leaving her
beautiful home where every modern convenience had been hers.

Cora sat up and looked at each member of her
family. Vickie and John thought they were going to a Garden of Eden
where they could raise a family in paradise and John could farm his
own land. To Ben, this move was an adventure. Eliza always agreed
with their parents so her opinion didn’t count. Lenny and Nicholas
were too young to have an opinion. Was she the only one who wanted
to go home?

“Cora.” Mother’s gentle hand on her shoulder
brought little comfort. “We’ve all had a terrible fright, but it’s
over. Let’s get our things picked up. The sooner we get started,
the sooner we’ll be at our new home.”

“What home?” The words burst from Cora’s
mouth.

Reproach shone in her mother’s brown eyes
before she sighed. “I’ll need help with breakfast. As soon as your
bed is on the wagon and you’ve cleaned up a bit, please peel some
potatoes.”

Cora’s shoes were always hard to find. She
searched through the quilts and finally dug them out. As soon as
she pulled them on, she rolled her quilts and tossed them on top of
the others in the wagon. She grabbed a washcloth and towel then
made the precarious descent down to the riverbank to join her
sisters at the river’s edge.

Vickie filled a washbasin with cold water
and washed Nicholas who was doing a good job of dancing out of her
reach.

Cora rolled her eyes at the depth her family
had sunk. “Why didn’t you heat the water?”

Vickie held her son in place with a hand on
his arm. “Because I didn’t have time. You don’t either. Father
wants to get on the road, and we still have to eat.”

“I have to wash in cold water?” Cora splayed
her hand across her chest.

Vickie laughed. “It won’t hurt you. Look at
Nick. He’s a brave, little pioneer.”

Nicholas looked up at Cora, and an
exaggerated shiver shook his small frame. “Nickus told.”

Vickie scooped him up in a blanket, and Cora
frowned. “He’ll probably catch his death. All of us will. I don’t
know why we had to come here.”

Eliza dumped her wash water and
straightened. “Oh, Cora, it isn’t as bad as you’re making it. You
don’t have to wash everything. Just hit what shows to get some of
the road dust off. You’d better hurry. Mother’s starting breakfast
now, and you’re supposed to be peeling potatoes.”

Eliza and Vickie began the upward climb to
camp, leaving Cora to grumble about the injustice of her life.
Already her early morning fear had faded.

~*~

They had an earlier than normal start that
morning, yet the afternoon sun hung low on the horizon before
Father raised his hand. “Whoa. This is it. We’re home.

Home? They’d bounced and swayed for over two
hours on an old Indian trail that followed the Sac River. Then they
had to cross a wide creek before they could eat lunch and start out
again. Now they’d finally arrived. But where? Cora’s gaze swept the
waving brown prairie grass and the distant forest with its splashes
of color as if a giant artist had cleaned his brush of yellows,
reds, and various shades of orange. The creek, a ribbon of
sparkling water, wound past where they stood.

Cora sought some indication of human
habitation—and saw none. Her heart sank. Surely this was not the
end of their journey. They couldn’t stay here without any house or
neighbors. She folded her arms to stop the tremble. George was
right. There was nothing here but wilderness. This was a wild
country fit only for animals and an Indian hunting ground.

Father would see how impossible this place
was. They’d go back home. Hope flared within her breast as she
pushed through the waist-high grass to his side. “Father, this
isn’t your land, is it?”

His light blue eyes shone with the pride of
ownership. “This is it. It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”

“But Father. There’s nothing here.” Cora
grabbed a handful of grass and broke it off. Her eyes burned with
unshed tears as she held it out to him. “Look at this. You can’t
even see the ground for it. How can we walk through this? We can’t
live like animals. We need a house. What if the stars fall again?
There aren’t any streets. No town. No people.” Her voice cracked as
she fought tears.

Father seemed to notice her for the first
time. He looked into her eyes. “Of all my children, Cora, I
expected you to understand. This is our dream. We’ll make a home
here. It’s bought and paid for. Over a hundred acres of Jackson
land. Never again will I bend over a hot vat of molten wax.” He
spread his arms wide, taking a deep breath. “What you see is ours,
Cora. Smell the fresh air. Fill your lungs with it. Breathe deeply.
That’s something you can’t do in a stuffy candle shop. Don’t you
agree this is better?”

Cora shook her head, holding back the urge
to cry. “I don’t know, Father.”

He smiled and patted her shoulder. “This is
a new country, Cora. We have the privilege of building it up. Soon
others will come. Don’t worry. One day you’ll have your town. Come,
let’s set up camp. We’ll build a shelter tomorrow. You’ll get used
to country life.”

He turned away, issuing orders to the
others. A single drop slipped from Cora’s eye and she brushed it
away. She could never get used to this. A cold gust of wind
crossing the creek blew against her face. Dampness coated the air.
Winter would soon be upon them, and they had no home. She dragged
her steps as she helped her family because there was nothing else
she could do. Christmas and George seemed so far away.

Chapter 2

C
ora dreamed she was locked outside her home in Saint Louis.
She pushed with all her might against the door and couldn’t get in.
Fiery lights streaked through the sky, but cold, damp air stung her
face and crept down her neck, chilling her. She shivered. Her
fingers wrapped around the doorknob. It turned to ice in her
hands.

“Cora.” George called her name. Where was
he? Inside? Again he called. He must be in the warmth of the house.
She pounded the door. Why wouldn’t he let her in? She tugged the
icy knob and shook the door. She knocked until her knuckles
hurt.

“Cora.” He called again.

“George.” She tried to get his name past her
frozen lips.

“Cora, wake up.” Rough hands grabbed her,
pulling her away from her home. Away from George and everything
familiar. Her eyes opened to narrow slits, and Eliza’s face came
into focus. “Cora, are you going to sleep all morning? We have to
help Mother with breakfast.”

A shiver trailed through Cora’s body, and
she pulled her covers closer. Her fingers found a frozen dampness
in the cloth.

“Oh, there’s frost on my quilt.” Cora glared
at Eliza as if she were at fault. “How can you stand this? Don’t
you know it’s almost winter, and we don’t even have a real bed, let
alone a house to put it in? We sleep on the ground of all things.
It’s freezing out here.”

“Sh-h-h.” Eliza put her finger to her lips.
“You’d better not let Mother or Father hear you talking like that.
They’re doing the best they can. It wouldn’t hurt you to help out
once in a while.”

Guilt drove away Cora’s angry words. She sat
up, threw off the covers and reached for her shoes. A blast of cold
air hit her, and she shivered again. Where were her shoes? Why did
she always have to look for them? She rummaged through the rumpled
covers and felt a nudge against her shoulder.

“Looking for these?” Eliza shoved her shoes
at her. “If you’d put them in the same place every night, you’d
know where to find them the next morning.”

“I know that.” Cora grabbed the shoes and
shoved them on her feet. Little sisters could be such nuisances.
Especially know-it-all little sisters.

She didn’t bother rolling her damp quilts,
but carried the pile toward the wagon. Maybe there’d be room to
spread them out to dry.

She walked past the fire where Father and
John were warming their hands. “We’d better get some temporary
shelter up before we even think of starting on a house.”

Cora stopped to listen. Father, his coat
buttoned to his chin, clutched a warm cup of coffee.

John lowered a steaming cup from his lips.
“Sounds like a wise decision. Think we can get something up before
night?”

Father nodded. “It shouldn’t take too long
with three of us working. We need to break down one of the wagons
first so we can haul logs on it.”

“Cora, can you watch the bacon?” Mother held
out a long-handled fork.

Cora tossed her quilts over the wagon’s
tailgate and hurried toward the fire. Nicholas ran past her toward
Vickie. “Blow, Mama, blow.”

Vickie pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve
and held it to his nose. She looked up at John from her crouched
position. “This is the third time this morning I’ve had to do this.
I’m afraid he’s getting a cold. Sleeping on the ground in this
weather isn’t healthy.”

“We’re doing what we can.” John frowned and
squatted down before his son. “You’re not going to get sick, are
you, tough guy?”

“Uhn-uh.” Nicholas shook his head, his large
brown eyes serious.

John grinned and patted his back. “That’s a
good boy.” John rose. “Maybe we’ll have a better place to sleep
tonight.”

Vickie’s blue eyes flashed as she stood. “We
will for sure. I’m unloading our wagon today. At least it’s
dry.”

“Good idea.” John turned toward Father.
“We’ll stay in our wagon, so you won’t have to build as large a
shelter.”

Father set his empty coffee cup down. “All
right. If you want to. I hope the weather holds.” He looked toward
the west where a thick blanket of gray clouds covered the sky.

Cora turned the bacon one last time and
reached for a plate. Of course Nicholas was sick. She’d told Vickie
to warm his wash water. It’s a wonder they didn’t all catch their
death.

Lenny crowded against her. “I’m hungry.”

“It’ll be ready in a minute. Why don’t you
go sit down?” She pointed her fork toward a straight-backed chair
several feet away then scooped up the cooked bacon.