Threads of Change (13 page)

John takes care of the teams well. One harness is rubbing badly and we’ve had to make some salve from the root of a stickery bush. I decided to try it on the injuries to my face. It helped the soreness and seems to be healing faster, though it stains my face purple and the others laughed at me.

John and Blue have brought whiskey. Blue allowed me to pour some in my coffee, and it helps me to sleep better. I was not as sore and tender when I awoke.

DAY 5:

The weather has been hot. Now and then, we get a cloud, which gives us a short spell of relief, but it seems to make the air more thick. I want nothing more than to find a place where we could swim and rest for an entire afternoon. Our clothes are so damp they stick to us. I would like to change clothes but don’t want to until we find a place to rest and bathe. I am still wearing my torn dress from the storm. I did a quick repair on the waist. I know that I must look a fright with my injuries and my dress torn and my purple stained face.

Megan said she would fix my dress better than new for me. She has been so worried over the trouble I’ve had. I am so glad we had no broken bones. Blue said if it would rain, we could all take a shower. Megan and Emma keep us on our toes, the rascals.

We are all sore from the shaking of the wagons and the team handling. Though I haven’t looked at the condition of our freight, I am glad that we had the sawdust for packing. I will put a little of John’s whiskey in all of our coffee tonight. We all need to sleep well at least once this week.

DAY 6:

About mid-morning, we found the perfect place to bathe and take a short swim. I halted the wagons and told the team this ought to be our day of repair and rest. They all agreed. Camp was made after only a few hours of travel time. We did repairs on the wagons and we washed clothes and repaired them as well. The rest and cleanliness was good for our souls.

After supper, Blue and John pulled out some instruments and we enjoyed some music and sang our favorite hymns. Music always makes the mood lighter somehow, and it somehow forged a more friendly relationship between us and the men. We even had a dance or two, though I know many forbid it.

We pulled out our quilting and stitched during the late afternoon and before supper. Emma cheered up a great deal after we sewed. I asked her if she had tried to stitch in her wagon as we traveled. She said that she had and that it hurt too much. She showed me her sore fingers. She laughed and said that it hadn’t worked on the stagecoach to Lecompte either.

It was a wonderful day. Megan said the landscape had begun to change as we passed through different land.

As I went to the wagon to sleep tonight, I asked John what he thought about Thomas and Chet still missing. He reassured me that they would be along soon and not to worry. I’m choosing to believe him.

DAY 7:

I was surprised this morning as we came upon Fort Polk. We stopped and got a few supplies and had a nice visit with some of the officers’ wives. They prepared a magnificent lunch for us and it did our souls well to have such food and hospitality. We surely were not ready to go when the captain gave the call to load up. All of us had made friends quickly, even Luke and Bear. The young troops were interested in our unusual group and quickly saddled up to escort us to the border where our Rangers are supposed to be waiting. They said we ought to be there by evening.

I was upset when I learned we had angled too far south and now would have to go north to our location in Texas. We have lost time by our troubles and losing our direction. The lieutenant assured me that the storm had disrupted the path we were to be on and we would have had to come south anyway. Truth? I’m not sure of it, but it made me feel better. I also decided that Thomas and Chet are fine and that they must be worried sick over us and wondering where we are. I hope they have not gone back to Grandpa Lucas as I would hate for him to worry so over us when we are well.

It was a good thing also that we cleaned up yesterday. We would have died for the fort ladies and soldiers to see us in such disarray as we were. Captain Sewell was concerned over my injuries and had the doctor take a look at my head. He scolded me and said a lady had no business taking such risks out on the trail. I didn’t tell him how much I enjoyed taking part in leading our group.

He said to keep putting the salve that we made for the horses on my face, even though it turns one’s skin purple. Captain Sewell also advised us on the route to take north after we cross over the line, and he said he would put word out to Thomas and Chet as to our whereabouts. He said the Indians have been quiet lately, but that we will go through a certain territory where we should stay most alerted.

Mrs. Sewell had a new baby girl that we all fell in love with. I think all of us were thinking about our own mothering feelings and wondering if we would have our own children in the future. I don’t know why Caleb and I never had more. Luke came so quickly that I assumed I would have plenty. Abby and Megan certainly are old enough to have a houseful of their own by now. It is, in fact, quite unusual for all of us to be single and Luke the only child. I never thought of it in such a way until just recently.

We made the Texas line by dark and the army made camp with us. They drew us a map and gave us the landmarks for which we should stand watch as we move farther west.

DAY 8:

This morning it was rather difficult to see the troop ride away. I slept well in light of my not having one of John’s special coffee mixtures. My body feels stronger and my injuries are all but healed.

Megan always has admirers, and our visit at the fort was no exception. She certainly is pleasant to them in general, but she never seems to have an interest in anyone specific.

As we continue, we are to go along the Angelina River and through the forest. As I saw all of the lumber from the trees, I began to wonder if Grandpa ought to leave the lumbering business. Timber is plentiful in this land.

It seems like ages since we were back home. Captain Sewell’s wife showed us a number of her patterns, and I have just now realized that I forgot to write them down. She had many beautiful quilts that we all loved, my favorite being a star with a blue center and points. It had a small burst of triangles around it. It will be the first one I attempt after I settle in my new home. As always, we traded some cloth with her. She had some of the blue from the star and, being the lady that she is, simply gave it to me. I promised to inform her on my progress.

She had more quilts than I had ever before seen, almost all of which were stacked and neatly folded. She rarely uses many of them. I suppose that she has a lot of empty time on her hands while residing there. Another one I liked a great deal had a wreath with points. It was very unusual in its design. Each circle had a bluish hue to it. It appears to be an organized scrap quilt. It seems difficult to fashion, however. Upon curiosity, I counted over seventy pieces in each block. It had many curved pieces. One day, perhaps I can work up the courage to make it.

DAY 9:

Today, while searching Thomas’s wagon for some supplies that John and Blue required, I came upon a large wooden box with a lovely log cabin quilt inside. I took it out to admire its wonderful construction. The blocks were unique: four log cabin blocks sewn together with fire red triangles around the outside edges. When I spread it out for closer inspection, a letter fell open at my feet. I saw it was from his mother before I realized how intrusive I’d been, and I quickly folded it back into the quilt.

T
homas had spent nine days searching for Elizabeth Bromont and the others, perplexed as to how they could have disappeared. He talked to many folks along the trail after the storm and no one had heard of this group of women and six wagons. If they’d met with trouble or harm’s way, such news would have certainly traveled fast. He didn’t want Lucas to get wind of this—or more importantly, any outlaws—so he maintained caution in his investigations, mostly listening for conversation that might lead him to his cluster of females.

He sat in a tipped-back chair outside the saloon as two men in military uniform started up the steps.

“And you’re certain that the wagon train was all single women?” the light-haired man with fuzzy eyebrows asked.

“Yes,” the tall one said, stooping his head to enter the door of the saloon. “I was there when they stopped at Fort Polk with Captain Sewell and his wife.”

Finally, word of the women! Thomas nearly knocked his chair over as he popped up from it, his glances darting around for Chet. When he didn’t find him, Thomas entered the saloon and walked straight over to the men in blue and ordered three drinks.

“Gentlemen, did I hear right that you saw a wagon train of women?”

The two soldiers cautiously looked at Thomas, Chet now standing next to them. Thomas noticed the hesitation in the light-haired man’s countenance.

“Let me introduce myself,” he said warmly. “I am Thomas Bratcher. My friend and I are employed by Lucas Mailly to lead his wagon train and freight to Fort Worth. In the storm last week,” Thomas paused, feeling the embarrassment of losing his group, “we lost track of our charges.”

“As I remember,” the man said cautiously, “it seems they had come across some trouble. They appeared to be managing just fine.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Thomas asked.

“The lady that was leading them, but only a few scrapes. One nasty one to the head.”

“The others,” his companion stated, “seemed just fine. But they’re headed right for Indian country now.” He reached for his whiskey. “What’s wrong with that pa of theirs?”

“How badly was she hurt?” Thomas asked.

“She was banged up all right. Captain Sewell sent her to the doc.”

“Tell me. Please, where was she hurt?”

“Her eye was purple and she had a gash down her check. As well as her lip, it was cut.”

Thomas poured himself another whiskey, “And what direction were they headed?”

“The captain gave them a map and some men of ours rode with them to the edge of Texas.”

“Please. Can you tell me where they left them and where they told them to go?” Thomas implored.

“Our men left Fort Polk and were going west to the Sabine Forest. I suppose that’s where they camped, but that’s all I know.”

“Well then, men, thank you for your help.”

Thomas stood to shake their hands.

“Good luck,” the blond man said, “and thanks for the drink.”

Thomas and Chet both gulped down their whiskey and headed out the door.

Once outside, Chet turned to Thomas. “I think we should cut across to the north of the Sabine. I know a place we can cross the river and find a spot to meet them, close to where the Rangers should be. There’s a stage station close to the Crockett Forest and Nacogdoches. Maybe if we push it, we can do it in a five-day ride.”

“How long do you think it will take them?” Thomas asked.

“I’d say at least six,” Chet replied.

Liz shook the reins of her team and looked out from beneath her bonnet, searching for a place to make camp. She watched Bear as he playfully ran along with the wagons. Bear had quickly learned the routine of each day, and no one had to worry about his whereabouts as he galloped into the thicket of trees and happily reappeared a mile or so later. When he didn’t return soon enough for Luke, Liz’s son whistled and the dog came running.

One night when camp was made and everyone had settled, Bear flew out from the thick trees with an angry raccoon chasing him. “Blue, do you see him? Hurry! Over there,” Liz called.

Bear barked and tormented the masked creature as it hissed at the dog and rose to its back legs.

“Luke, stay back,” his mother commanded from the wagon seat. “Let John scare him off!”

John stalked around the wagon with his gun, firing two shots into the air. The raccoon hurried off with Bear at his heels. Luke whistled for a good minute or two before the dog finally turned for home base.

“That was funny seeing that raccoon chasing Bear like that,” John said.

“I guess so,” Liz replied. “I was afraid it would be a crazy one and cause us harm. And that is all we need, another sack of trouble.”