Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (21 page)

“I was hoping we would not have to deal with this,” Michael said solemnly.

“Do you think it’s contagious?” Nellie asked nervously.

“No, it seems to affect people at random. In Ireland, many people died from it, but not necessarily everyone from a family.”

Nellie looked relieved. Her marriage was young and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing John.

The news spread through the camp quickly. Soon other men and women came to the Hintons’ wagon to offer condolences and help. All the children were ordered to stay close to their wagons. The captain came by and said they would bury the three deceased in an hour, and Reverend Mueller would provide a short service.

Everything was over and done with quickly. Three new graves covered with rocks barely disturbed the silent prairie. In the light cast from a few lanterns, Reverend Mueller gave eulogies and offered a prayer. Nellie had a supporting arm around Emily Hinton, who stared unseeingly at the gravesites. Mr. Baker and a grown daughter comforted two younger children who wept piteously.

After the short service, the captain spoke to the people congregated around the gravesites.

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hinton and Mr. Baker. I had been feeling hopeful that we would avoid more of this sickness.” He paused. “We’ve all noticed the number of graves along the trail in the last month, and we all need to be extra careful in the days ahead. We will be leaving early in the morning. Miss Emily, Ben Hansson will drive your teams. I trust you all have inspected your wagons so that there will be no breakdowns.”

The captain paused and looked at the anxious faces surrounding him. “Tonight say a prayer for young Hope Walters. It appears she has cholera. We’ll leave at first light.”

Everyone slowly made their way back to their wagons. Brenna and Ben stood a little ways off from the others.

“Will your father be all right driving your teams alone tomorrow?” Brenna asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Ben assured her. “I just hope he doesn’t have to do too many repairs to other wagons. Hopefully folks have fixed everything that needed attention.”

“What about Miss Emily’s wagon?”

“It was brand new when they left Independence. I’ve looked it over and it’s in good shape.”

“I feel so badly for her. She’s all alone now.”

“If we were closer to Independence, I think she would go back to her family, but she’s going to have to go on with us to Oregon now.”

“What will she do once we get to Oregon?”

“She can go home next spring, or maybe she’ll find a new husband.”

Brenna’s brow furrowed as she thought about the prospects of a young widow alone in a frontier town. She didn’t know how close the Hintons had been, but she couldn’t imagine finding a new husband so soon. And yet, what other options did she have? Brenna drew her shawl closer against the night chill and shivered. Ben noticed and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, just chilly.”

“Don’t you go getting sick, now,” he said huskily and tightened his hold as they walked to the Flannigan’s wagon.

Two days later the wagons made camp next to a beautiful creek and close to some hot springs. Everyone was exhausted from pushing hard. Six more people had died from cholera since they had buried Ernest Hinton, the Bakers, and little Hope Walters. The captain had made the decision that the wagon train wouldn’t stop when someone got sick. Usually if someone got cholera, he or she was dead within twenty-four hours. He appointed a watcher who would stay back with the sick traveler. After the person died, the watcher would dig the grave, bury the body, and then catch up with the wagon train.

Dinner had been quiet in the Benson camp.

“Thomas, the little ones are asleep. We’ll be back shortly.” Ruth gave her husband a peck on the cheek and she, Rebecca, and Mary headed in the direction of the hot springs. Some of the other women had the same idea and took their laundry. The day had been warm, but it was cooling off. The men knew to stay clear since some of the women had indicated that it would be a good place to get a bath—the first hot bath they’d had since leaving Independence. The hot springs looked inviting as the women dumped their belongings on the rocks.

“Mary, take everything off. Here’s some soap. Scrub yourself good,” Ruth Benson said as she stripped her grimy threadbare clothes from her body. She stepped gingerly into the steaming water. It was so hot it took a few minutes before she could sit down. Then when the warmth enveloped her, she sighed deeply and sank in up to her neck. Other women and girls were doing the same. No one spoke for a few minutes, and the evening prairie closed around them. Ruth felt the tension leaving her. All the stress of the last few days melted from her body as the water gently massaged her aching muscles.

“Mary, let me wash your hair,” Rebecca’s voice seemed to float up quietly from the watery depths. Ruth’s eyes were heavy. She hadn’t realized how tired she was. Tomorrow morning she would bring Annie and Deborah here and give the youngsters a bath. But tonight she felt totally relaxed, and she didn’t want to get out of the pool. What a luxury! What bliss! She was floating in a warm cocoon, weightless and unencumbered. Soft voices drifted around her, but she didn’t want to join in any conversations. She felt gentle hands on her head, taking apart the braids.

“Your turn, Ma.” Rebecca worked the soap into a lather in Ruth’s hair.

“That feels so good. Thank you, Rebecca.” The head massage was bringing Ruth back to the present. “I almost forgot how wonderful it is to be clean. I feel so much lighter!”

“Yes, I’m sure we’ve scrubbed off pounds of prairie dust,” Rebecca replied.

“What’s Mary doing?”

“She’s washing the clothes.”

“She’s really growing up, isn’t she?”

“She is. But I’d better help her or we may be missing some things in the morning.” The two women chuckled. Mary was helpful, but not always thorough.

A few minutes later, Ruth sighed deeply and sat up. It was getting late. She would help the girls finish the laundry and then it would be time to get back to camp.

“It’s done, Ma,” Rebecca said.

“Thank you, girls. I lost track of the time.”

“It’s okay, Ma,” Mary piped. “You looked so relaxed. We didn’t want to make you get out.”

The others were leaving the water and putting on dry clothes. They gathered their laundry and slowly walked back to camp, refreshed and clean. Thomas, the boys, and James were talking quietly around the fire. They looked up when the women and Mary walked into the camp.

“Wow! Mary looks three shades lighter,” Sam said jokingly.

“That was heavenly,” Ruth said.

“You look great,” James said, staring appreciatively at Rebecca’s rosy cheeks and shining chestnut hair.

“It was wonderful, James. I feel so refreshed. Will you walk with me?” The two linked arms and walked out of the firelight. Thomas and Ruth shared a knowing look.

“Stay close by now,” Tommy called after them teasingly. “And no kissing!”

Sam guffawed loudly, and Tommy collapsed into giggles.

“You two can get yourselves a bath,” Thomas said sternly, but he could barely contain the smile threatening to give him away. Mary went into the wagon to put things away and check on Mattie. Then it was just Ruth and Thomas left by the fire. Thomas drew his wife close and put his nose in her hair.

“You smell nice.”

“I feel so relaxed.”

“Soon we’ll be in Oregon City and you can have a bath every night if you want.”

Ruth sighed into Thomas’s arms. “This is the first real bath I’ve had in months. I hope we camp by more hot springs.”

“I don’t want you getting spoiled now!” Thomas said gently, kissing the top of Ruth’s damp head. She turned her face to look at Thomas.

“We’ve done the right thing, haven’t we Thomas?” Her eyes searched his in the light from the fire. “We’ve done the right thing to leave Iowa.”

Thomas cocked his head to the side. “What’s troubling you, Ruth?”

“It’s just that we have the largest family in the wagon train, and all of us are still here. I almost feel guilty when I look at the women who have lost children or husbands. We haven’t lost anyone to cholera, Thomas. I feel like we’re very lucky, or maybe we’re just foolish to think that we will all make it to Oregon City.” Ruth’s voice was edgy.

“Shh,” he put his finger on her lips. “Don’t get yourself all riled up now. You’ve had a nice bath, and you’re warm and clean.” His arms tightened around her. “Don’t you worry, Ruth. We’re all going to walk into Oregon City together.” His voice was quiet and confident. “I’ve taken care of this family just fine up till now, and nothing is going to change that.”

Ruth snuggled into Thomas. She felt safe in his arms. She felt like he was telling her the truth. If anyone could protect this family, he would.

“Thank you, Thomas,” she said softly.

Later when Rebecca and James walked back into camp, Ruth and Thomas were still nestled together, companionably watching the dying embers of the fire. Thomas stretched his arms and stood up.

“I think it’s time to kick those boys out of the bath. Come on, James. Our turn.” The two men walked into the night.

Rebecca sat next to her mother. After a few moments she sighed, and then she confided, “James and I are in love. He’s going to ask me to marry him.”

“It’s taking him long enough,” Ruth replied.

“Ma!”

Ruth laughed. “I’m kidding, Rebecca.” She turned to her daughter and enfolded her in her arms. “I’m so happy for you. Your father and I both think James is the perfect match for you. We’ve known for a long time that you two would be married.”

“Oh, Ma, James makes me happy. I love him so much!”

“He’s a good man, Rebecca. When will he talk to your father?”

“Soon, Ma.”

Ruth felt a deep sense of satisfaction as she leaned back against the wagon. She felt clean for the first time in months. Rebecca, her oldest, would soon be a wife and then a mother of her own babies. Her children were healthy. Soon they would be in Oregon, and a new chapter would begin. Life was good. She closed her eyes and smiled. The smile was still on her face when Thomas woke her from her sleep and helped her to their bed.

Bad News

Chapter Twenty

Mile 1427

Emily Hinton stared disbelievingly at Abel Brown from the chair where she was sitting. Her heart raced in her chest. What he was telling her couldn’t be true!

“Emily, do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Your father is dead. Ernest got word of it at Fort Kearney, but he wanted to wait to give you the news.”

Emily shook her head as if to clear it. This was impossible. Ernest had just been buried, and now Abel was telling her that her father was dead? Her eyes welled with tears.

“You’re lying!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking. Buster whined when he heard his mistress cry out. He stood on his hind legs and put his front paws on Emily’s knees.

Abel reached into the breast pocket of his coat. “Here’s the letter from your…mother, Emily.”

Abel held out an envelope. Emily recognized her mother’s precise script. She took the envelope with trembling hands.

“Emily, I’m sorry to burden you with this when you’ve only just buried your husband, but time is short, and decisions have to be made.” His eyes looked at her intently, but she had barely heard what he had said.

“I’ll leave you alone to read it, and then we need to talk.” Abel turned and left the tent.

Emily stared at the envelope for a long moment. It was addressed to Mrs. Ernest Hinton, Independence, Missouri, April 13, 1852. Someone else had added, “Overland Trail to Oregon, Captain Wyatt’s train,” underneath the address. Her mind reeled as she realized she and Ernest had probably just missed the letter in Missouri. She hurriedly removed the two thin sheets of writing paper. Her mother’s words blurred on the page, and she had to blink continuously to clear her eyes.