Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 (22 page)

Emily could barely read the last paragraph. Her tears spilled from her eyes and wet the paper in her trembling hands. Her husband’s death had numbed her, and this news was heartbreaking. Visions of her father filled her. He had been the most important person in her life, and she could not bear the thought of never seeing him again. On top of that, the woman she had always thought of as her mother was not related to her! The letter slipped to the ground, and she bent her head to her hands and sobbed. Buster licked her hands and whined.

The tent flap parted and Nellie rushed in.

“Emily, my dear, I’m so sorry! Mr. Brown just told me.” She held Emily in her arms and rocked her like a little child. Emily cried piteously for a long while, and Nellie patted her back and made soft soothing sounds.

“My daddy’s dead, Nellie.”

“I know, Emily. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s gone, Nellie, gone forever!”

“Shhh, Emily. You just cry, honey. You’ve had quite a shock. Your daddy loved you more than anyone in this world. He told me once when you were real sick that if anything ever happened to you, he would die himself.”

“I don’t know what to do, Nellie.” Emily’s shoulders shook with her sobs.

“Well, you’ll just have to go back to Ohio. I’m sure your mother will need your help. There’s nothing and no one for you in Oregon.”

Emily suddenly stopped crying. She sat up and looked at Nellie with red-rimmed eyes. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and her hair, usually perfectly groomed, had come undone. It cascaded over her shoulders in frenzied tumultuous dark locks.

“You never knew?” she asked, hiccupping.

Nellie looked at her alarmed, searching her eyes. “Knew what, honey?” Emily bent down and retrieved the fallen letter. She handed it to Nellie. Nellie could barely tear her eyes from Emily’s face. What she saw there frightened her. Emily sat rigidly in the chair as Nellie read the letter quickly and then again more slowly. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the thin paper.

“My God!” she whispered softly. “I never understood why your mother was so cold towards you. This explains it! I guess you won’t be going back to Ohio.”

Emily regarded Nellie soberly for a few moments. Suddenly she threw her head back and laughed. Her laughter was mirthless, and soon it escalated into a high-pitched wail. Nellie dropped the letter, grasped Emily’s shoulders, and shook her.

“Stop it, Emily!”

Emily stopped laughing as suddenly as she had started, but when she spoke, her voice trembled. Her eyes were wide in her face. “Nellie, I’m a Negro. I’m a widow. I have no family to turn to. What will become of me?”

Nellie squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She had to think. If news of this got out, Emily would be ruined. She would no longer be accepted in white society. What would she do? Where would she go?

“Listen, Emily. No one is to know about this, do you hear me? This is between you and me.” Nellie watched Emily’s eyes—beautiful deep brown eyes. Her dark brows furrowed over them. Her nearly black hair contrasted against her creamy skin. Her full lips quivered slightly under a nose that was straight and slightly broad. Now that she knew Emily’s mother was a Negress, she looked at her features intently. Nellie had always thought Emily was beautiful. Her looks were slightly exotic, and she looked nothing like her father. She looked like an aristocratic southern belle.

The tent flap parted and Abel Brown entered. He was tall and slender in the black pants and coat he always wore. It gave him a debonair look uncommon on the trail. He regarded the two women calmly.

“I believe I have a solution to your problem, Emily,” Abel said confidently.

Emily and Nellie looked at him. Emily’s expression was wary. Nellie looked expectant and hopeful.

“You and I will be married,” he said matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled thinly. Nellie gasped, and Emily’s mouth twitched. She looked precariously close to hysterical laughter again.

“That’s hardly a solution to her problem, Mr. Brown,” Nellie stated crossly. “She’s just lost her husband and her father.”

“Nevertheless, it’s the only possible solution, and it will be beneficial to both of us. Emily needs a husband. She has no assets and no prospects. I need respectability. I’ve made a name for myself, but unfortunately, it’s not a good one. As my wife, Emily will bring me credibility. She and I will enjoy social circles that wouldn’t otherwise be open to me.”

Emily looked at Abel’s smug smile. His roguish good looks did not hide the feverish ambition that always played underneath the surface of his seemingly calm demeanor. Her palm itched to slap the smile from his face.

“I have plenty of money, Mr. Brown, and no thank you, I won’t be needing a husband.”

Abel’s caramel colored eyes looked at her appraisingly. “You have no money, Emily. Everything your husband once owned is now mine. I have receipts and I.O.U.s to vouch for this. Ernest was very indebted to me. I’m afraid your husband was not a very good card player.”

Emily’s face paled. She remembered all the nights Ernest had spent with Abel Brown and some of the other men. Her husband had told her they were discussing plans for Oregon.

“Ernest wouldn’t squander our savings!” she cried.

Abel laughed scornfully. “Oh, he always hoped to win it all back—and more. Every time we played he was confident, but he just got deeper in my debt.”

Nellie put her arm around Emily’s shoulders and looked at her earnestly. “Don’t you worry, Emily. You’re coming with me and Reverend Mueller. We’ll sort everything out once we get to Oregon.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do, Mrs. Mueller,” Abel interjected. “Like I said, my solution is the only workable one, and that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Nellie started to protest, but Abel held up a hand and said conspiratorially, “The three of us are the only ones who know Emily’s secret. We know what her fate will be if that ever gets out.” His voice lowered and he looked at Emily. “Now I want the best for you, Emily, but who knows what will happen if I’m not around to protect you?”

Nellie noted the barely veiled threat in Abel’s voice.

Emily gasped. “You read the letter! That’s my private property!”

“I need to know everything about you, Emily. After all, you are going to be my wife. You will have no secrets from me.” He bent over and picked up the letter from where it lay on the ground.

“That letter belongs to me, Mr. Brown.” Emily put out her hand.

Abel ignored her. He folded the letter and put it in his breast pocket.

“This letter will be in my safe keeping. I’ll take care of you, Emily—better than Ernest ever could.” Then he smiled, tipped his hat, and exited the tent. The two women stared after him. Nellie could barely make herself look at Emily, afraid of what she would see. When she finally did, instead of defeat, she saw determination on Emily’s face.

“Emily, I know that look. What are you thinking?”

Emily took a deep breath. She straightened her back and folded her hands calmly in her lap. She gazed at Nellie for an instant. “Go back to your wagon, Nellie, I’ll be fine.”

“Emily! No!”

Emily’s generous mouth tightened. She reached up, gathered her riotous hair, and began to pin it up methodically. When she looked at Nellie again, her eyes were cold.

“I’m afraid Mr. Brown is right. There really is no other solution to my problem.”

On the evening of September 1 at Fort Boise, almost four hundred miles to the end of their journey, Reverend Mueller conducted a short ceremony uniting Emily Hinton and Abel Brown in matrimony. Only a few of the travelers knew about the wedding and gathered around. Mary Benson had picked wildflowers and strewn them about.

“Here’s a bouquet for you, Miss Emily,” Mary said, handing her the yellow and gold blooms. Emily looked confused and preoccupied. Mary picked up Buster who had been underfoot, and he licked her face.

Emily frowned at the flowers in her hands. “Thank you, Mary; that was very thoughtful.”

No one felt that Emily was remiss in not mourning her dead husband the proper length of time. Everyone understood that these were special conditions, and a single woman of Emily’s caliber would not make it on the trail alone. No one except Nellie was aware of the drama that had unfolded a few nights before—not even Reverend Mueller. No one knew about the letter and its contents.

Nellie cried during the exchange of vows. Her husband, Reverend Mueller, thought it was tears of happiness for Emily. Abel held his right hand over his heart—a seemingly sincere gesture. He felt the letter in the breast pocket under his hand, and he smiled confidently. He always got what he wanted.

He looked down at his new bride. Her eyes were lowered and her dark lashes shadowed her cheeks, hiding her expression. She wasn’t happy, he knew, but that didn’t matter. He was a wealthy man, and now he would have a well-bred wife. It didn’t matter to him that she was a Negress, as long as no one discovered her secret. He was already plotting their future in Oregon and California. Yes, things were looking up.

Dinner Invitation

Chapter Twenty-One

La Grande Ronde
Sept. 15, 1852
Mile 1530

“Here’s some beef for our dinner, Kate,” Michael Flannigan said as he walked into camp.

“Wonderful!” Kate exclaimed. Fresh beef was a luxury on the trail, where salt pork was the usual fare.

“The Cayuse were willing to trade buffalo meat for the fish hooks I fashioned a while back. Oh, and I’ve invited Emily and Abel Brown for dinner. I happened to run into them on my way here with the beef. I hope that’s alright.” It was unusual to have company for dinner, but since there was plenty of fresh beef, Kate readily agreed.

“Besides, I want to get to know them better,” he said.

They were camped in La Grande Ronde, a beautiful valley. To the west were the Blue Mountains. They would have been more beautiful if the overlanders didn’t have to cross them. As it was, they simply looked foreboding. Although the days were still warm, the nights were cold and everyone was hoping to cross the mountains before it snowed.

Kate was touched to see that Emily had taken pains to look her best for dinner. Her lustrous dark hair was beautifully coiffed, and her wine-colored dress was tailored perfectly to her slender curves. Abel was darkly handsome in his usual black attire. They made a striking couple, and Abel seemed aware of this fact. Buster tagged along, close to his mistress.

“Thank you so much for the invitation,” Emily said, clasping Kate’s hands. “It’s so kind of you to invite us to dinner. I understand your husband traded with the Cayuse today.”

“Yes! It’s been awhile since we’ve had beef. I’m so glad you could come and share it with us. Plus, we haven’t had a chance to properly acknowledge your marriage,” Kate said to them both, carefully avoiding the subject of Emily’s husband’s death.

Brenna couldn’t help comparing herself to Emily. They were a little over a year apart in age, but they were centuries apart in experience. She looked at Emily’s perfect hair and dress and at her own simple homespun frock covered with the apron she wore most of the day. She quickly removed her apron and tried to smooth her curly hair. Emily turned to Brenna.

“It’s so good to see you again, Brenna.” Their eyes met, and Brenna could see that Emily was sincere.
She’s changed
, Brenna thought.

“Thank you, Miss Emily. It’s good to see you too.”

They all arranged themselves on the makeshift benches while Brenna dished up the beef and bean stew. Seasoned with salt and the wild sage Kate had collected and dried, it was very tasty. There were the usual biscuits to go with it. Abel took a silver flask out of his pocket and offered it to Michael.

“Real Kentucky bourbon.”

“No thanks, Mr. Brown, but you go ahead.” Abel tilted the flask and took a long swallow.

“I do love beef,” Michael said, diving into his stew. “I’m going to raise some cattle on our farm in Oregon.”

“My daddy raised cattle,” Emily volunteered. Then her eyes clouded over. “You may not know that he passed away six months ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Emily,” Kate said. “Was it sudden?”

“Yes, he took a fall from a horse and hit his head. I miss him more knowing that I will never see him again.”