A Dream for Tomorrow (32 page)

“Unit one will now be the lead unit,” Captain Brownlee hollered from across the river, where he’d remained to help the others. “Go ahead and join up with Jim McCall and the others, unit one. Lead the way!”

Elizabeth exchanged glances with Matthew as they all hurried to hitch their teams and prepare to travel. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so proud of her “little” brother. The Oregon Trail might be one of the hardest challenges of their lives, but it could be the making of them too. She was just stepping up to get into the wagon when she noticed a group of men carrying a bundle toward unit three, which was positioned nearby. A cold rush went through her as she realized it was a body wrapped in a blanket…one of the unfortunates from an overturned wagon. How many lives had been lost today? Would there be more? Yes, her family and loved ones would all be stronger and tougher at the end of this trip—she believed that to her core—if only they all survived it.

Chapter Twenty-One

W
e’ll make Fort Boise tomorrow,” Asa announced as they lingered around the supper table. “The captain said we’ll arrive there in time to make camp that evening. He doesn’t recommend going to the fort at night, but he’ll give us two extra hours to fetch supplies and look around the next morning.”

“And I’ll check the post office and mail my letter to Malinda,” Elizabeth told them.

“Do you think she’ll get her letter before we get there?” Ruth asked.

Elizabeth tried to appear less concerned than she felt. “It’s possible.”

“Sure, it’ll get there,” JT told Ruth. “The mail goes lots faster than a wagon train.”

As her family visited about what they wanted to see and do in Fort Boise, making lists and plans, Elizabeth went to the wagon to get her shawl and a sweater for Ruth. It was probably her imagination, but she thought she could feel the nip of fall in the air. At first she’d tried to convince herself it was the elevation, but then she learned they weren’t nearly as high up as they’d been a few weeks earlier. Still, she reminded herself, it was nearly mid August. Fall was only about a month away. And that meant the end of this trip was only about a month away as well.

While at the wagon, she lit a lantern and pulled out their well-worn map, carefully unfolding it and tracing her finger over the distance they’d already gone. It was impressive to see they’d traversed most of the continent by now. And it made the distance they had yet to go seem a bit smaller.

She pulled on her shawl and folded Ruth’s sweater over her arm, blowing out the lantern to conserve kerosene. Then as she was leaving her wagon, she heard a rustling sound nearby. As always, she paused and listened intently and waited, prepared to grab her gun if necessary.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She peered through the dusk darkness to see Will Bramford cautiously approaching. “Oh, hello,” she said with relief. “I thought perhaps some kind of wildcat was about to leap.”

“It is wise to be careful this time of night. I was walking, and thought I saw a light over here—and then it went out. I thought perhaps you’d gone to bed, although it seems a bit early.”

She reached for the lantern again, taking a moment to strike a match. “I was trying to conserve lamp oil,” she admitted. “But I think I’d rather have the light.”

“Have you noticed how it’s getting darker earlier? Those nice long days will get shorter and shorter as fall gets closer.”

“So it’s not just my imagination.”

“What’s that?”

“I felt like fall was in the air. But it’s not even the middle of August.”

“We’re farther north now,” he reminded her. “Probably close to the forty-fifth parallel. Back in Kentucky, you were below the fortieth parallel.”

“I can barely remember latitudes and longitudes from geography,” she admitted. “And I even had to teach it in school for a while…before I got married.”

“You were a teacher?” He looked both surprised and amused.

“Not for very long.” She smiled shyly. “James didn’t think it proper for a married woman to teach school. I was only seventeen when I took over teaching for my friend Malinda when she got married…” She sighed sadly.

“The same Malinda who was recently widowed?”

She nodded. “Yes. She’s a year older than me, but we were close the whole time growing up. Then we married the Martin brothers, and it was as if we became sisters.”

“You must have missed her when she left.”

“Oh, I did. I missed her dearly.” Elizabeth reached back into the wagon, feeling around for the map again. “Anyway, I’m trying to remember where the longitudes and latitudes go.” She unfolded the map, spreading it on the tailgate near the lamplight. “My map doesn’t seem to have those marks on it.”

Will reached past her, tracing his finger through the middle of the country, from just above Kentucky to California. “That’s about where the fortieth parallel goes,” he explained. Now he drew another imaginary line a bit higher up. “This is probably about where the forty-fifth would be. So you can see it’s quite a bit higher. That would account for longer nights in summer and shorter days in the winter. Where we’re heading in Oregon is about the same latitude as where we lived in Boston.”

She nodded. “Well, thank you for the lesson.” She folded up the map again. “How is it you know so much about geography?”

“I suppose it’s not so much to do with geography as politics.”

“Politics?” She was confused.

“The Kansas–Nebraska Act of 1854…forty degrees is where they drew the line dividing those states…the difference between North and South.”

“Oh…” She nodded. “You mean if the country were to be divided. North and South.”

“The country is already divided.” The conviction of his words startled her.

“Well, I suppose it is. But surely it’s something that can be worked out by our government.” She fiddled with a shell button on Ruth’s sweater.

“You truly believe our government, which is as divided as our states, can resolve this peacefully?”

“I don’t rightly know. But I’d like to think they could.”

“I wish you were right, Elizabeth, but I feel certain that this is going to be settled through bloodshed…similar to what happened in Kansas.”

“So perhaps we’re not really leaving civilization behind us after all?” She studied his creased brow. It was clear he was frustrated over their country’s condition. “I mean, if states were to truly take up arms and go to war against each other…” She attempted a laugh. “Although I find that unimaginable.”

He just shook his head. “I hope you’re right.”

“And since we have enough challenges of our own to consider out here in the untamed West, I suppose it’s easy to push thoughts of a war like that out of one’s mind.” She smiled. “As the good book says, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”

Now he smiled. “I like the way you think.”

She suddenly grew uneasy about being out here like this, alone with Will in the dark. What sort of an example was she setting for her children? Or for his? “Perhaps you’d like to walk me to my parents’ campsite,” she suggested.

“Thank you,” he told her. “I would like to.”

“And if you’re truly hankering after a political discussion, I am certain my father can accommodate you. I assure you he has plenty of opinions on this subject,” she said as they strolled. “Sometimes he can argue quite brilliantly against slavery. But other times he can go on and on about the oppressions of the North. That’s when the womenfolk tend to sneak away.”

“Asa sounds nearly as divided as our country.” Will laughed as they entered her parents’ campsite. “I’ll have to think twice before I start talking politics with—”

“
Politics?
” Asa looked up from where he was sitting by the fire, working on a broken piece of harness. “You want to talk politics?”

“Well, now…I’m not so sure.”

“See what you started.” Elizabeth chuckled as she took the sweater over to Ruth. “I thought you might need this.”

“What kind of politics did you want to discuss?” Asa asked Will.

“Will was just telling me about the fortieth parallel and how it’s becoming the dividing line between North and South,” Elizabeth told Asa.

“I’ll tell you what divides North and South,” Asa began. “The North fails to appreciate that it needs the South.”

Will sat down on a barrel across from Asa. “I agree with you on that.”

Asa looked up from the harness in surprise. “You do?”

“I certainly do. Not only that, but I have to confess that I think the North sometimes acts superior to the South.”

Asa nodded. “You got that right. Just because we Southerners are mostly farmers is no reason for Northerners to treat us as if we’re inferior.”

“So you consider yourself a Southerner?”

“Well, not anymore.” Asa grinned. “But I am a farmer.”

“So do your sympathies lie with the South?”

“I’m not rightly sure.” Asa set the harness strap down. “But I fear Kentucky will be caught in the middle of the mess. And the more I think of it, I’m not sorry I won’t be there to witness it. Nor do I want to choose sides.”

“What would you do if you were forced to choose?” Will asked.

“Well…as you know, my family and I oppose slavery, which might make one think we were aligned with the North. But I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t always in that camp. I owned slaves and felt justified in doing so.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Asa glanced over to where Elizabeth was warming herself by the fire. “My children. It took me a while, but I finally came around.”

“Did you know that Massachusetts has been abolitionist since 1780?”

“I reckon you folks don’t have much in the way of agriculture either.” Asa tied off a piece of leather, pulling it tightly with his teeth. “Now on account of me being against owning slaves, you might think I’m leaning to the North. But the truth is I do understand why plantation owners feel they need slaves. And I know some slave owners, including myself when I kept slaves, who treat their coloreds with more human kindness than some Northerners treat their own labor force.”

“Perhaps, but our laborers up north are free to come and go at will. At the end of the day, they go to their own homes and families,” Will pointed out.

“I’ve read about small children working up there in your Northern mills,” Asa said with conviction. “I’ve heard tell of how them little ones toil away such long hours that they never see the light of day. I reckon that’s not much different from slavery.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Will nodded. “I have lobbied for labor laws to protect children.”

“Will Bramford!” Asa chuckled. “How am I to argue with you if you keep agreeing with me on every cotton-pickin’ thing?”

“Now you just wait a minute. I’m sitting here listening to an abolitionist with Southern sympathies…I think you can produce a spirited argument all by yourself, Asa.”

Asa slapped his thigh and laughed loudly. “You’re welcome to my fire to talk politics anytime!”