Westward Hearts (41 page)

She sighed. “That’s what I felt in that moment.”

“Those were good instincts.”

Now she looked directly into his eyes. “Something happened out there, Eli. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but seeing how you already know most of the story…”

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened out there. I don’t know if JT noticed or not. But it’s something I’m still trying to figure out.”

“What is it?”

She described the moment when she’d looked into the woman’s eyes. “I was so scared, but I was trying hard not to show it. And that woman, just sitting there on her horse with her child…somehow she seemed to understand. I may have imagined it, but I really felt as if she had compassion for me and JT.”

“And why shouldn’t she?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth looked down, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I know not all white people would agree that an Indian would have feelings like that…” His brow creased. “But you’re traveling with a freed slave, Elizabeth. From what I can see, you treat Brady as your friend—almost like family. Certainly not all white people act like that. So I should think you would understand.”

“Understand what?” She looked back at him.

“That Indians are people too. Just like you and me. They have the same needs, the same emotions. They are simply different.”

She sighed then slowly nodded. “I know…”

He looked surprised. “Really? You
know
that?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “But I think I’m beginning to understand. I
want
to understand.”

He tipped his hat now. “Then you are an even more amazing white woman than I thought you were, Elizabeth Martin.”

She blinked, and then, noticing that Gertie Muller was standing nearby with water buckets in hand, Elizabeth forced what she hoped looked like a neighborly smile and waved. “Hello there, Gertie! Nice day, isn’t it?”

Gertie barely nodded and, without saying a word, turned away and hurried off toward the river.

“What was that about?” Eli asked her curiously.

Elizabeth chuckled, mostly at herself. “I don’t know… But I think poor old Gertie is kind of like an Indian. She’s different, and I don’t fully understand her…and as a result, it’s easy to dislike her. I suppose I’ll just have to try a bit harder.”

Now Eli looked at her with a very intense expression, almost as if seeing her in a whole new light. “I can see you are busy, Elizabeth, and I know you need to finish Jess’ dress in time for the wedding tomorrow. But I do have one more question for you.”

“What is that?”

“May I reserve a dance with you? I mean for tomorrow night, after your brother’s wedding? Would you save a dance or two for me?”

An unexpected thrill of happiness rushed through her as she smiled directly into his eyes. “I most certainly will, Eli Kincaid.”

He tipped his head. “Thank you. I am most appreciative.”

She watched in wonder as Eli deftly turned his horse, slowly walking away. Such a fine figure of a man, broad shouldered and sitting tall in the saddle, dressed in his usual fringed buckskins. She couldn’t deny that her cheeks felt flushed and her heart was fluttering like a caged sparrow. And she knew, as greatly as her brother anticipated the morrow, it was possible that she looked forward to it with even higher expectations.

The wagon train made good travel time Saturday, and Captain Brownlee was in good spirits about the upcoming wedding, so everyone stopped earlier than usual on Saturday afternoon. While JT and the men were tending the teams and Ruth and the Bostonian girls were out gathering wildflowers, Elizabeth went back into her wagon and began to forage through some deeply packed crates and trunks. Perhaps it was a fool’s search and a waste of time, but she was looking for an old gown that she wasn’t even sure she’d packed. If memory served, it was a robin’s-egg-blue taffeta. A dress she’d worn only once—for Ruth’s fourth birthday party, shortly before the cholera epidemic.

For some reason Elizabeth had remembered it the night before and thought perhaps she’d packed it. To her surprise, she spotted a patch of the pale-blue fabric, and happily but carefully extracting the gown from the bottom of a trunk, she gave it a good shake and then laid it next to the clothing she’d already set out for the children to wear at the wedding. Then she went outside to help set up camp.

Everyone was busier than usual this afternoon, but it wasn’t long before Asa and Brady got the big tent set up. The plan was to use it both as a bath house and as the women’s dressing room before the wedding. But Elizabeth hoped to make it feel even more special than that by carrying out one of the carpets she’d packed to lay on the floor. And with JT’s help, she also brought out a couple of chairs, a table and mirror, and some lanterns for when it got dark.

“Thank you for helping with that,” she told JT as they stood by the wagon. She pointed to the water buckets. “Now if you can just get us set for bathwater, I’ll let the menfolk keep you busy for the rest of the afternoon. And I’ll leave your wedding clothes in the wagon for later.”

As JT left with the buckets, she gathered up the wedding clothes for her and Ruth, carrying them back to the tent.

“Very nice setup,” Clara told her as she came in with a washbasin and towels, placing them on the table. “Jessica will be pleasantly surprised.”

“I want her to feel like a princess,” Elizabeth said. “I hope that’s not silly—out here in the wilderness.”

“This should be a day to remember for always.” Clara poured water into the washbasin.

Elizabeth set a bar of lemon verbena soap on top of the towels. “I found this in a trunk,” she explained. “I thought Jessica might appreciate it more now than when we get to Oregon.”

“Good thinking.” Clara paused from arranging things to touch the blue taffeta gown still in Elizabeth’s arms. “Oh, my. I’d nearly forgotten this dress. Are you going to wear it tonight?”

“It’s not too fine, is it?” Elizabeth held up the dress, frowning doubtfully. “Maybe it’s too fancy.”

Clara firmly shook her head. “I think it’s perfect. And I think Jessica will be honored to have such a fine lady standing beside her when she makes her vows this evening,” Clara went over to where they’d hung Jessica’s beautiful white dress in the center of the tent. “And after seeing how well Jessica’s gown turned out, and knowing how happy she is, I doubt anyone will outshine her today.”

“Unless it’s Matthew.” Elizabeth draped the blue taffeta over the chair near Jessica’s gown, pausing to finger one of the puffy white sleeves that Mrs. Flanders and Fiona had sewn, examining the inlaid lace and tatted trim with approval. “It truly is lovely. Jess will be as pretty as a picture in it.”

“I’ve got more flowers,” Ruth announced as she burst into the tent with an armful of colorful blooms.

“Oh, my!” Elizabeth laughed. “Here comes our flower girl.”

“Look at these red and orange ones,” Ruth said happily. “What are they called?”

“Those are Indian paintbrush,” Clara said as she filled a pitcher with water from the bucket JT had just delivered.

“And you found bluebells too,” Elizabeth declared as she spied the delicate blue blossoms. “Perfect.”

“And columbine,” Clara exclaimed. “Let’s get them into water quickly.”

“Looks like you found something else too.” Elizabeth examined the red spots on Ruth’s bare arms, trying not to show her concern. “What happened to you?”

“Mosquito bites,” Ruth explained. “They’re thicker than molasses down by the creek.”

“We’ve got plenty of those around here too.” Clara swatted the air.

Elizabeth pointed to the soap. “Maybe that lemon verbena will help with those bites. Why don’t you wash up right now, Ruthie?”

“And I need to go put the finishing touches on the wedding cake,” Clara said. “As well as a dozen other things.”

“I want to help put the flowers on the cake,” Ruth called as she vigorously scrubbed her hands and arms in the washbasin.

“We want to save that for last,” Clara told her. “So they look nice and fresh for the wedding.”

“Grandpa and Brady already got the calf roasting,” Ruth informed them as she dried her hands on a towel. “The Flanders boys promised to help with the turning of it. And while I was at your camp, Mrs. Prescott brought over some real pretty platters to use for serving tonight. And a stack of china dishes too.”

Elizabeth pulled a list from her skirt pocket, going over the various chores that still needed to be finished in time for the wedding. So much to be done…so little time.

Several hours later, Elizabeth wasn’t sure that all the chores on her list had been completed, but as the women all clustered in the dressing tent, she was convinced that it no longer mattered.

Ruby had just given Jessica a string of pearls that had belonged to Jessica’s grandmother. And Doris had pressed a lace-trimmed handkerchief into her hand.

“We’ll go out and join the others,” Ruby told them. “I think some of the men are starting to get antsy.”

“We’ll be out there in just a few more minutes,” Elizabeth assured them as she tucked another bluebell into Jessica’s hair. “As soon as we complete all the finishing touches.”

“Yes,” Jessica called out, “it won’t be long.”

“Oh, Jessica!” Elizabeth stepped back to survey her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Ruth pushed up close to Jessica, beaming up at her with glowing admiration. “You look just like a fairy princess in a picture book,” she said.

Jessica giggled as Elizabeth slipped a few more flowers into her hair. “Thanks to all of you. You’ve all been like precious fairy godmothers to me.” She looked down at her magnificent dress, with its gathered skirt fully puffed wide due to the layers of petticoats sewn together by the Bostonian girls. She held out her bouquet of wildflowers. “I never could have done any of this without you.”

“Matthew is going to faint when he sees you,” Ruth told Jessica.

Jessica laughed loudly. “Oh, dear, I hope not.”

“Let’s hope no one faints,” Clara said as she stepped toward the door.

Elizabeth sniffed the air. “And judging by that smell, I’m guessing that calf will be perfectly done by the time the wedding is over. Good thing because I’m sure we’re all as hungry as wolves.”

“We’ve probably got enough food to feed the whole wagon train,” Clara assured them.

“But they’re not all coming, are they?” Ruth asked with concern.

“No, of course not,” Elizabeth told her. “Just our unit… and a few special guests.”

“But everyone in our unit has been very generous with food today,” Clara said as she opened the flap of the tent. “After the wedding, we shall eat like kings.”

“Can you hear that?” Ruth suddenly cupped a hand to her ear. “That’s Paddy playing his penny whistle. It means they’re starting.”

“Oh, my!” Jessica got a startled look. “Is it really time?”

Ruth nodded eagerly, dancing over to where Clara was standing. “Let’s go!”

Jessica’s hand went up to her throat, and she looked truly frightened now. “What if I do something wrong? What if I fall on my face?”

“We won’t let you.” Elizabeth wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t worry. You’re part of our family now.”

“I know just what you need,” Clara said as she rejoined them, taking hands with Jessica and Elizabeth. “Come on, Ruthie. It’s time to pray for Jessica.” And just like that, the four of them circled together in the kerosene-lit tent, and bowing their heads, they listened as Clara led them in prayer. “Dear heavenly Father, we pray that you will bless our dear Jessica as she is joined in union with our own dear Matthew this evening. We pray that you would grace us with your holy presence and with your gracious love and abundant joy as we celebrate this wonderful event with our loved ones.” She paused.