Westward Hearts (31 page)

Elizabeth cut her off, quickly explaining the situation. “In my mind, that gives you a real chance.”

Ruby rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “You could be right.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Doris said hotly. “Women can turn against us so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“But we have friends,” Ruby insisted.

“Friends who don’t know you ran a dance hall, Ruby. We might as well turn around and go back now. Why even waste a day going to Fort Kearney?”

“Don’t get hysterical.”

“Ruby is right,” Elizabeth told her. “And if you don’t mind me saying so, I’d suggest that you attend the meeting quietly and modestly. Not with any hostility or defensiveness. My father plans to state your case. You can trust him to present it clearly and honestly.” She looked into Ruby’s eyes. “We don’t want you to leave.”

At eleven o’clock, twenty-two curious emigrants gathered to hear Asa explain the situation, which he did carefully and diplomatically. Even Gertie seemed satisfied. At least she didn’t blurt anything out.

“A yea vote means the Morris wagon remains,” he informed them. “A nay vote means the Morris wagon is removed at Fort Kearney.” Then, after everyone recovered from the shock of allowing the women to vote, they formed two single-file lines—men on one side and women on the other—and taking turns, they wrote yea or nay on the slips of paper and set them in the tins provided. Then while everyone waited, Asa and Mr. Taylor counted the votes.

“Seven votes nay,” Asa announced. “Fifteen votes yea.”

A few of them let out a cautious cheer and others began to murmur among themselves.

“The yeas win,” Asa proclaimed. “The Morris party will remain with us for the duration of the journey. Thank you, everyone, for your votes. And now I’ll let you get back to preparing your wagons for travel.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help but notice the scowl that now seemed etched into Gertie’s forehead as she and a few others gathered around the Taylors, loudly questioning the validity of the vote. Clearly they were the naysayers and didn’t seem to care who knew it. So much for having a secret ballot. Elizabeth was surprised that this group seemed genuinely shocked and dismayed at the outcome, as if they’d honestly expected the Morris party to be removed from the wagon train.

Gertie shook her fist in the air then stomped off toward her wagon with Henry trailing a few steps behind her. Elizabeth wondered which way Henry’s vote had been cast, especially considering his fondness for the Morris wagon prior to their departure from Kansas. Had Gertie wielded her influence over her meek partner today, or had he voted as he wished? Thankful for the secret ballot, Elizabeth preferred not to know. But one thing she did know was that although the vote was over, the battle probably was not.

S
ome of the emigrants were clearly disappointed in Fort Kearney. “Why, it’s not even a real fort,” Lavinia declared as several of the women entered the small village of adobe and wood buildings together. “There’s not even a wall around it.” Now she pointed at an earthen dwelling. “And I do believe that house is made of
dirt.
”

“It’s called a soddy,” Clara informed her. “Not uncommon in some parts of the frontier.”

“I’ve heard they’re actually quite warm in the winter,” Elizabeth added.

“That’s fine if you’re a groundhog,” Lavinia shot back. “But I should not care to live in a dirt house. Can you imagine the mud when it rained?”

“Please, let’s not speak of mud,” Clara told her. “I’m still sad that my favorite white petticoat is now a dirty shade of gray.” They’d finally been able to do some laundry yesterday, but the results had been disappointing. That previous week of mud had taken its toll on a lot of their clothing.

“And washing our clothes in the river…” Lavinia shook her head in a dismal way. “How would you expect anything to ever be clean again?”

“Let’s just hope they get dry before it’s time to leave in the morning,” Elizabeth suggested as they made their way down the busy road. Emigrants from other wagon trains, Indians, soldiers, and all sorts of people were coming and going. Fort Kearney might have disappointed Lavinia, but it was clearly a bustling place, especially considering that it was in the middle of nowhere.

“I like Fort Kearney,” Ruth said happily to Elizabeth. “It’s exciting!”

There was no denying that there was festivity in the air in this place. With vendors here and there, colorfully dressed Indians, and a group of musicians playing on a corner, it was quite a change from their previous days of traveling over the barren prairie. And for those emigrants who’d already run short on supplies or needed to replace items, there were a number of stocked establishments ready and willing to help out—for a price, of course. Elizabeth and Clara were both relieved that their wagons were still in good, sturdy shape and relatively well stocked for the remainder of the journey. Not only that, but their men had experienced some successes with hunting and fishing, so they had enjoyed some variation in their menu.

However, Elizabeth knew that was not the situation with all of the emigrants. And although her family tried to share and help others, she knew that everyone had to stand on their own feet. Asa had taken the role of strongly encouraging some of their fellow travelers to stock themselves more adequately at the forts they’d be stopping at along the way. The problem was that a few of the families wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“Can we look at the Indian things?” Ruth pointed hopefully over to where some blankets and skins were laid out with items to purchase arranged on them.

“I don’t see why not,” Elizabeth told her.

“Not for us,” Lavinia said to her girls. “We need to get supplies. Now, you all have your lists. Let’s hurry and see what we can find.”

“I want to do some looking in the mercantile too,” Clara told Elizabeth. “I misplaced a large spool of black darning wool. I hope it’s not back there on the mud somewhere. But I do hope to find some more. Asa’s socks need mending.”

So it was only Ruth and Elizabeth who wandered over to where the Indians had arranged what looked like a small outdoor market alongside the edge of the settlement. Ruth smiled and politely said hello to the native vendors, and to Elizabeth’s pleased surprise, some of the Indian women smiled and said hello back to her.

“Look, Mama,” Ruth pointed at some buckskin moccasins. “These are like Eli’s, only smaller.”

One of the older women got up and came over, showing Ruth and Elizabeth the pairs of moccasins that she thought would fit them. Of course, Elizabeth had no intention of buying Indian moccasins, but the woman continued to jabber at her in a foreign tongue, showing how well the footwear were made and the intricate beading and how they would fit. She was so intent and persistent that Elizabeth began to feel sorry for her. Perhaps this poor old woman really needed some money.

“How much?” Elizabeth finally asked. When the woman named her price, Elizabeth shook her head. “Too much.” But then the woman lowered the price, and Elizabeth suddenly felt caught. It actually seemed a fair price for a pair of moccasins—if a person wanted to purchase a pair of moccasins. And she did not. However, she felt a bit guilty because she’d been the one to inquire about price. Yet at the same time, she felt such a purchase was wasteful, especially considering that some of her fellow travelers were feeling so strapped for cash and supplies.

“Please, Mama?”

Elizabeth turned the child-sized pair over, examining them carefully. They did appear to be sturdy and about Ruth’s size. Even if they were only used as house slippers once they got settled in Oregon, they were probably well worth the money. Besides, Ruth seemed to love them so, and the young girl had been so helpful and uncomplaining these past several weeks. Didn’t she deserve them?

“They’re so pretty,” Ruth said quietly.

“Yes.” Elizabeth nodded to the old woman as she reached into the small coin bag tied to her wrist. She removed the right amount and counted the coins into the woman’s dirty palm.

But to her surprise, the woman now handed her both pairs of moccasins—the child’s and the woman’s sizes. Elizabeth was confused.
“Two
pairs?” she questioned, holding up two fingers then pointed toward the coins in the woman’s hand. “For this?”

The woman nodded eagerly, pushing both pairs toward Elizabeth.

“But did I pay for
two
pairs?” Elizabeth patted her small purse with uncertainty, wondering if she now owed the woman more money and feeling as if she’d been hoodwinked. But the woman simply shook her head and held up her hands as if to show that Elizabeth had already paid enough. Then she giggled and stepped away.

“That seems too little for two pairs,” Elizabeth said quietly to Ruth. But her daughter was oblivious as she happily admired her new moccasins, running her finger over the delicate beadwork of white flowers and green stems. “What do you think, Ruthie?”

“I don’t know, Mama.” She shrugged, holding the moccasins close to her chest. “But
thank you!”

Elizabeth reached into her little handbag again, insisting the old woman take another nickel and dime. The woman didn’t refuse, but she seemed slightly embarrassed by this gesture. Then she simply smiled, revealing some broken teeth, and nodding happily, she hurried over to where her friends were sitting on a blanket. They’d been chattering among themselves while witnessing the awkward transaction, and now they all laughed as if it were a good joke.

Elizabeth wasn’t even sure what had transpired. Perhaps she really had been tricked. Yet the moccasins seemed well made, and Ruth was delighted. As they walked away, Elizabeth admired the red beaded roses on her own new pair of footwear. “They truly are pretty,” she told Ruth as they headed back toward the busy settlement. “That was a good idea you had.”

The settlement seemed to be getting busier, and Elizabeth held tightly to Ruth’s hand as they pressed through the crowded street, making their way to an adobe building that housed the post office as well as a bank. As they walked, she occasionally spied people from their wagon train and waved. Mostly they seemed to be strangers, and she hoped that her father and brother were keeping close tabs on JT. Brady had declined the invitation to join them here, claiming that he preferred the quiet of the camp and tending to the livestock. However, she wondered if he was worried that he might run into strangers who would question his freedom. She hoped it would become simpler when they reached the Oregon Territory.

Just outside the post office, they found Clara with a full market basket and a flushed face.

“Let me help you,” Elizabeth offered as Clara showed off some of her finds, including black darning yarn, a dozen eggs, a ham bone, and a bundle of fresh spring asparagus.

“The asparagus was a splurge,” she admitted to Elizabeth. “But I think it’ll be worth it. Imagine, fresh vegetables out here in the middle of nowhere!”

“Someone must have a nice garden in these parts,” Elizabeth commented as she eyed the good-sized green stems.

“A wife of one of the officers,” Clara explained. Now she lowered her voice and whispered in Elizabeth’s ear. “Speaking of officers’ wives, I have a bit of interesting news for you…later.”

“You two wait here while I go and inquire about the mail,” Elizabeth told her. She navigated her way through the crowd, waiting in line to finally ask the clerk if there was possibly a letter for her.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said after looking through the boxes behind him. “I don’t see anything with your name.”

She thanked him, hoping that perhaps a letter would be waiting at their next stop. However, that wouldn’t be until Fort Laramie in Wyoming Country. It seemed quite plausible that Malinda would have had sufficient time to have received Elizabeth’s posts and replied by now. Certainly she’d have sensed the urgency in Elizabeth’s correspondence, written more than four months ago. And surely Malinda would have appreciated the need to hear some sort of response—even a short note saying all was well. Elizabeth didn’t want to worry or grow anxious about what they would discover once they reached their final destination in the far West. But until she heard from Malinda and John, there was that uneasiness that came with not knowing. She hoped nothing had gone wrong with the relatives in Oregon. Not that it would change anything. For better or for worse, they were on their way. No turning back now.

While still in the crowded post office area, Elizabeth removed her carefully folded stationery from her handbag. She’d tucked it there in the hopes of needing to answer a letter from Malinda. Despite the lack of a letter, she wrote a quick note with a pencil, explaining where they were on their journey and how they were all well and how they hoped to reunite with their relatives in September. Hastily addressing and sealing this, she returned to the counter to purchase the necessary postage, and while standing in line, she silently prayed that her letter would reach Malinda and John quickly.

“Did you get a letter?” Clara asked when Elizabeth returned.

She shook her head. “But I sent Malinda a note.”

“No doubt we will hear from her soon,” Clara said. “And now I think we should head back to camp. “It’s time to get supper started.”

“Are all these people from our wagon train?” Ruth asked as they pressed through the busy settlement.

“Many emigrants pass through this fort,” Elizabeth explained.