Emma's Journey (15 page)

About a week after the Great Platte river crossing, Emma awoke from her nap and realized she missed the swaying of the wagon and the rattling of the pots and pans. She swatted at an annoying fly buzzing around her head and sat up. Moving the canvas aside, the sight of the most beautiful river, deep blue with sunlight causing diamond-like sparkles to blink and shine, greeted her. They had reached the Sweetwater, and the emigrants quickly left wagons and animals behind as they raced toward the cooling water.

Leaning on the back rail of the wagon, Davis looked in and grinned. “Darlin’, you’re gonna miss the bath you’ve been troubling me about if you don’t get out of that wagon.”

“I’m not going to miss anything, mister. You better get out of my way before I run you down.” Emma laughed as she gathered up her soap, a drying cloth, and fresh clothes.

The emigrants soon invaded the crystal clear water. The women and children took the north side of the river, and the men, after taking care of the animals, took the south side. The stop didn’t include any extra days, since they would be following the river for a while until they passed the Continental Divide at South Pass.

Emma washed the dust and sweat off, and then dunked her head to shampoo her long curly hair. It felt so good to be clean again. All around her, women wrestled with children who liked the idea of being in the water, but could very well do without the soap. Small boys yowled as mothers scrubbed dirt from behind their necks and in their ears.

The happy shouting and laughter vibrated off the mountain walls as the sun began its descent. Feeling chilled, Emma left the water, dried off and put on clean drawers, chemise and a dress. Gathering up her dirty clothes, she headed back to the wagon. She arrived before Davis, so she sat by the fire he must have started and combed and dried her hair.

Mountain air was much cooler in the evenings, and even though it was mid-summer, Emma tugged a wrap snuggly around her shoulders, and pulled out the ingredients to mix a batch of biscuits. Humming softly, she stirred the beans as she gazed at the beautiful sunset.

The sound of footsteps drew her out of her musings, and she looked up to see Nathan walking toward her. She hadn’t spoken to him since Davis had ordered him out of the wagon. He walked as if he still had his bandages on.

“Evening, Emma.” Nate tugged on the brim of his hat and smiled.

“Evening, Nate.” She glanced around but didn’t see Davis anywhere. “How’s your wound doing?”

“Coming along. Dr. Bennett taped up my ribs, so I’m able to ride. Getting on and off the horse is a bit tricky, but I’m managing. Where’s Davis?”

“Off with the other men taking a bath. It felt so good to wash all the trail dust off. Were you able to get into the river yourself?” She continued to fuss with the supper, glancing up at Nate every once in a while.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. It felt great.” He paused as if working up his nerve to speak. “Emma, I want to apologize for what happened in your wagon. I had no right to abuse your husband’s hospitality like that. I hope it didn’t cause you problems.” He had taken off his hat and worked his hands around the brim as he spoke.

“No,” she said, “we handled it.”

“One more thing I want to say before I go.” He cleared his throat and continued, “I meant what I said that day. You most likely can get an annulment because you were pressured into this. I can check it out for you when we get to Oregon City.”

He held both hands up in surrender, and walked backwards as she started to speak. “Don’t say anything now. I just want you to think about it. Just, ah, think about it.” Putting his hat back on his head, he pivoted and disappeared into the darkness.

Emma and Davis took advantage of their clean bodies to explore each other once they settled in for the night in the wagon. Cool air blew through the wagon, thanks to Davis having tied up the canvas part of the way.

Emma lay on her side, Davis at her back in spoon fashion. Even though she could hear the steady breathing of a deep sleep, he still had his arm wrapped around her, with his hand cupping her breast. She put her hand on the tiny bump in her belly and smiled.

The conversation with Nate bothered her. He seemed determined to undermine her relationship with Davis. But what, exactly, was that relationship? She liked Davis, a lot. She had a great deal of respect for him, and knew she could count on him to take care of her.

But did she feel anything deeper than that? She tried to compare her feelings with those she had for Peter, but lately it was hard to remember anything about Peter. Did Davis feel anything more than friendship and companionship for her? He whispered tender, caring words in her ear when they made love, but did that really mean anything?

Yawning, she decided to think about it all tomorrow. They still had a ways to go before they reached Oregon. All her plans to return to Indiana would have to be put aside with the baby coming. No way on earth was she going to give birth in a wagon traveling east.

Chapter Fifteen

As a student, Emma enjoyed geography more than any other subject. Since she’d expected to spend her entire life in her little corner of Indiana, it was nice to read about other places. The one spot that fascinated her the most was the Continental Divide. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would get to see it. But now they headed directly for it. Her teacher had explained all the rivers on one side of the Divide flowed east to the Atlantic Ocean, and the others west to the Pacific Ocean.

Around two o’clock in the afternoon the wagon train reached the Divide. Emma was relieved to find how easy it was to cross, nothing like she feared. In fact, if Davis hadn’t pointed it out to her, she might have missed it.

She was happy things between them had resorted back to the easy way they were before the Great Platte crossing debacle.

True to his word, the day after the crossing Davis made Emma start practicing with his gun. Every day at the noon break, and then for a while after supper, he lined up rocks, that grew progressively smaller, on which she could practice.

“Now, darlin’, this is a double-barreled shotgun,” he’d explained the first time he took her out. “It has two parallel barrels, which allows two shots to be fired in rapid succession.” He turned the gun over. “You’ll notice it has two triggers, one for each barrel.” He handed the weapon to Emma, which she held like it would bite her.

“It’s all right. As long as you handle it carefully, it’s very safe.”

“Then why did Nate get accidentally shot?”

“Because he’s an idiot.” He grinned. “It’s not loaded right now. I just want you to get the feel before you fire it.” He put his arms around her, explaining how she should hold the gun against her shoulder so the kickback didn’t cause a bruise.

It took a few sessions before Davis actually let her fire the gun. Luckily, he stayed behind her the first time because the kickback would have knocked her off her feet if he hadn’t caught her.

Rubbing her shoulder, Emma glared at Davis. “Won’t hurt as much if it’s against my shoulder?”

He had the grace to look chagrined. “You’ll get used to it. It just takes time.”

Once past the Continental Divide, it took a little over a week before they reached Fort Bridger. Located in Utah Territory, the fort had been established by mountain man, Jim Bridger. It was another re-supply stop for the emigrants as well as the only place to purchase needed items for fur trappers.

Emma looked forward to the two-day rest. Then they would cross the Green River, but Davis told her there would be a ferry to take them over, which sounded safer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Emma, are you going to the supply store?” Elizabeth and Abigail Preston stopped by her wagon the morning after their arrival.

“Yes, and I’m almost ready. Davis gave me money this morning, and he’s already gone over. He wants to trade our oxen for fresh ones. I just want to look over what they have.” She laughed. “I can’t believe how excited I am to go to this little store.” After tying the ribbons under her bonnet, she joined the women.

“That’s flat out robbery!” Davis’s shout reached her before she even entered the small building.

“Maybe so, young man, but take it or leave it.” A large, round man with bushy whiskers common to the mountain men stood his ground, hands on hips, chewing tobacco as he glared at Davis.

Emma had never seen such a large man. As she watched him, he turned and spit on the floor. Then he moved the wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other. Dirt caked on his face and neck indicated he had not seen a bath in a long while. For as big as Davis was, with his height, broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs, he appeared dwarfed by this giant.

Davis took his hat off, and slapped it against his thigh. “All right, mister, I’ll pay your price. I can’t afford to work these tired animals anymore. Just write me out a bill of sale, and I’ll be on my way.”

The giant ambled over to the counter and took out a large book. Licking the end of his pencil, he began writing, concentrating hard on his chore. Emma reached Davis and tugged on his sleeve. “What was that all about?”

“This crook is giving me hardly anything for our oxen, and charging me a fortune for new ones.” He slammed the hat back on his head. “But we really have no choice. They’re badly foot worn, and I don’t think they’re going to make it the rest of the trip. The last thing I want is dead animals.”

“Here ya go, buddy.” The giant held a piece of paper out to Davis, who took it without as much as a curt nod. As he turned, he glanced down at Emma’s breasts and waist and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Maybe you better get some cloth to make bigger dresses, darlin’. Soon you’ll be busting out of that one.”

Blushing furiously, Emma nodded, and turned away. Davis chuckled as he left the store to find his new animals.

Emma was thrilled to be in an actual store. Besides restocking their food supplies, she found some perfumed soap and the necessary items to make two larger dresses. After paying for her purchases, and instructing the giant which wagon to deliver them to, she joined Abigail and Elizabeth.

The women looked pale as ghosts, and were clutching each other’s hands.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.

“We just overheard some of the men talking about problems with Indians. The Sioux and Cheyenne have attacked both travelers and natives alike to steal livestock and other supplies. Mr. Bridger even went with one wagon train through Bridger Pass recently, and was able to talk in sign language to some Ogallala Indians they ran into, which avoided problems.”

Both women looked terrified. Emma felt her stomach drop to her feet. Indians! She thought they were well away from any area where that would be a problem.

After saying a quick goodbye to the Preston women, Emma hurried over to her wagon. Davis was unhitching the cattle they had traveled with to bring over to the trading post. He sweated, cussed, and tugged on the beasts.

Wringing her hands, she approached him. “Davis, there’s Indians here.”

He stopped, wiped his forehead with his arm and leaned on one of the animals. “Yes, they’re right over beyond the supply store. They’re the Ute Indian wives and children of the mountain men.”

“No, no, I don’t mean them. I’ve seen them, and they seem all right. In fact, they have some beaded works for sale I’m going to look at later. I’m talking about hostile Indians. Abigail and Elizabeth overheard some of the men in the store talking about attacks on both emigrants and local people by the Sioux and Cheyenne. They steal livestock and supplies.”

Davis frowned. “I haven’t heard anything about that, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll check with Ezra to see what he knows.” He turned back to the animals and continued his work. “I have to get this settled first, and then we’ll both walk over and have a talk.”

Having already forgotten she was there, he started cussing the animals again, and still anxious, Emma went to get the clothes she needed to wash in one of the many creeks around the fort.

The rest of the day passed with washing, cooking and rearranging the wagon once again with the new supplies. One of the fiddle-playing emigrants suggested they have a party that night, which idea enthused both the travelers, and the mountain men and their Ute wives. Again everyone would contribute food, and those with musical instruments would provide the entertainment.

As the camp settled into the coming darkness, Emma washed her face, then re-braided her hair. Wanting to feel pretty, she chose a rose flowered dress with a wide rose sash that she’d taken the time to iron earlier. She grinned when she was barely able to fasten the buttons across her ever expanding breasts. As she tugged the two front parts of the dress together she decided to get busy on those bigger dresses first thing tomorrow.

Davis came from the direction of the creek, his hair wet and slicked back. He wore a recently laundered white shirt, with black wool pants. Instead of the string tie he wore to the other party, he had a fresh red bandana around his neck. Again Emma got that funny feeling in her stomach when she looked at her handsome husband. He smiled at her, and she placed her hand on her stomach, sure the baby moving around caused the fluttering.

“You look very pretty tonight, Mrs. Cooper.” Davis reached out and slid his hand behind her neck, drawing her to him. Gently he leaned down and kissed her. He moved his palm forward and cupped her face. Tilting her head, he eased his tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Sliding her hands up over his shoulder, Emma played with the wet, curly hair tickling the collar of his shirt. She sighed and moved closer.

“You sure you want to go to this party, darlin’?” Davis whispered as he nibbled on the sensitive skin below her ear. “I can think of other things we can do to keep ourselves occupied tonight.” His heavy lidded eyes told her exactly what he had in mind.

“We’ll be missed. People will come looking for us, to see if we’re all right.” She shook her head.

He sighed. “All right.” His strong hands kneaded her shoulders. “We’ll continue this later.” After a quick wink, he lifted the dish that was their offering for the party, and giving her his arm, and they joined the other families ambling toward the area outside the supply store roped off for the party.

Emma sat on a tree stump and watched the antics of the mountain men. It was obvious they were drunk. Their wives didn’t seem to mind, and just smiled when one of them grabbed a woman from the wagon train and started to dance her around. Everyone laughed, but Emma became more uncomfortable by the minute. Her tension only increased when another mountain man crossed the dance area and headed directly for her. Stumbling slightly in front of her, he reached down, and pulled her up. “Come on, little lady, let’s dance.”

His breath was enough to kill a moose, and he was another man who had no relationship with soap and water. He may have been drunk and stumbling, but he had an iron grip on Emma. After only about a minute of this torture, she heard a voice over her shoulder. “Let the lady go, friend, I’m cutting in.” Davis reached between them to take Emma’s hands. The mountain man was not giving up his prize, however.

“Get lost, buddy, the lady’s dancing with me.” He turned her so his back was to Davis.

“Once more, friend, I’m cutting in.” Davis grabbed the man’s arm.

“And I said I ain’t letting go. Get lost.”

Davis spun him around. The drunk released Emma, and took a blow to the jaw. Reeling back, he stumbled, and after another punch directly to his oversized middle, fell to his knees. Not waiting to see if he could even get up, Davis took Emma by the arm and put distance between them and her overzealous admirer. She glanced over her shoulder to see the man holding his jaw and shaking his head, as he looked at Davis’s back in confusion.

“Thank you for saving me. These men are a little bit scary.”

“They’re drunk. Just stay next to me, and in a little while we’ll head back to the wagon.” He regarded her carefully. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” His jaw worked as his gaze roamed over her face and body.

“I’m fine. But I could use something to drink. I’m thirsty.”

“I saw some punch over there.” He waved in the general direction of the supply store.

“I’ll be right back.”

“No you don’t.” He snatched her hand. “We’ll go together.” He took her by the elbow, and they strolled past where one of the mountain men helped the drunk to his feet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma dipped a cup into one of several punch bowls and gulped the refreshing liquid, and then dipped in again and downed a second one.

“You really were thirsty. Let’s sit awhile so you can catch your breath.”

They settled on a bench not too far from the dance area. “I wonder why the mountain men’s wives don’t seem to mind them drinking so much and dancing with other women?” Emma’s propped up her chin with her fist, her elbow resting on her knee, as she watched the goings-on.

Davis grinned. “You see the size of those men? I’m sure they do whatever it is they want to do. Most Ute women tend to be easy on their men. Besides, not everyone has an exemplary husband such as myself.”

She slanted him a look and smirked. “That punch was really good. Could you get me another glass?”

Davis returned with a cup that Emma made quick use of. After about fifteen minutes her face turned a rosy red, and she giggled every time she glanced in his direction. As the fiddles began a slow number, she stood and held out her hand. “Let’s dance.” Humming the song, she dragged him onto the makeshift dance floor.

“Are you sure about this, honey?” Davis asked as she turned into his arms. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine, I want to dance.” She pulled him close and Davis got a whiff of her breath and grinned.

“Darlin’, I think we got your punch out of the wrong bowl.”

She peered at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The mountain men’s bowl of punch had liquor in it. In other words, dear wife, I think you’re a little tipsy.”

“No, not tipsy, I just feel happy.” She looked up at him, and the heaviness in her eyes had his mouth drying up, and his nether parts growing strong.