A Dream for Tomorrow (36 page)

Again, Elizabeth was reminded of the dangers of being out here like this in the wilderness. However, she tried to believe that just as the captain and Eli had said, the Indians in these parts were relatively peaceful. At the same time she knew that the situation could change and deteriorate quickly. And she tried not to think of the scenes that Malinda had described.

They made camp right on the river, which made collecting water for cooking and cleaning much handier. Truly, of all the days on the trail, this had been one of the easiest.

“I’m not sure if I can get used to doing so little during the day,” Elizabeth admitted to the other women as they worked together to prepare supper.

“Perhaps my mother can give you lessons,” Evelyn told her.

Belinda giggled. “Yes, Aunt Lavinia is quite good at doing nothing.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lavinia looked up from her book. “I
am
doing something. I am reading a book. Furthermore, you young girls have all made it perfectly clear that your outdoor cooking skills are far superior to mine. Why would you want me to interfere?”

Elizabeth chuckled, wondering if Lavinia hadn’t pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes by pretending to be so useless over a cooking fire.

“Perhaps you should read aloud to us,” Ruby called out.

“Yes, yes,” they all agreed, begging her to read.

“All right. I am reading
Essays
by Ralph Waldo Emerson,” she told them. “It was published in 1849, I believe.” She cleared her throat and began to read.

To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

“Oh, my!” Doris sighed. “Isn’t that beautiful.”

“And how fitting that Emerson was writing about appreciating solitude,” Elizabeth declared. “After being contained so closely together all day, unable to escape each other’s company while our little boat floated downriver, I can relate to his words.”

“You wanted to escape our company?” Lavinia demanded.

“No, no, not actually.” Elizabeth realized how this sounded. “I only meant that after having the freedom of walking out in the open so much, often being on one’s own, well, I suppose we’ll have to get used to dwelling in such close quarters.” She poured the cornbread batter into the Dutch oven and found a spot on the fire for it. Even though Belinda was making a lot of biscuits, they’d decided to make a large batch of cornbread as well. Whatever leftovers they had would get them through their midday meal tomorrow.

Now seeing that everyone else was occupied and that nothing more needing doing, Elizabeth decided to excuse herself. “I’m going to take a short walk and see if there are any berries nearby.”

“I would come too,” Ruth told her, “but Amelia and I are going to make some huckleberry pies for dessert tonight.”

“With the trout the men caught today and huckleberry pie, we are truly eating like kings,” Elizabeth proclaimed as she left. It was already getting dusky, but the sky reflecting on the river made it seem lighter, and she found a rock by the water’s edge and sat down. She was close enough to hear the sounds of the women working to prepare supper, and she could see some of the men just past the big raft with fishing poles. Truly, this scene was idyllic, especially compared to the rugged wearing days of the past.

She leaned her head back, and looking up at the sky, which was just turning a dark periwinkle blue, she prayed for the safety of JT and Matthew and the rest of them. Then she prayed for the wagon train travelers on the various trails and the ones waiting to ride the river. Finally, she prayed for Malinda and her family. She had no idea if they were still on their homestead or heading right now back to Kentucky.

“Hello?”

Elizabeth jumped to her feet. “Oh, it’s only you.”

“
Only
me?” Will looked deflated.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that you startled me, and then I was relieved you weren’t a Cayuse Indian out on the warpath.”

“Ah…the Cayuse…weren’t they responsible for the Whitman Massacre up near Fort Nez Percé?”

“That’s what I read a year or two ago. But it’s not something I particularly cared to bring up in these parts. Especially when we’re not that far from where it happened. That story would frighten poor Ruthie to no end, and I’m sure your daughters wouldn’t care to hear of it either.”

“So is that what you were so intently thinking on just now?”

“No, not actually.” She frowned to remember Malinda’s accounts about Indians. “But I suppose it was similar in some ways. I was just imagining how Malinda and her children might be eastbound for Kentucky and how she might be thinking she will find us there…and we are headed west, hoping to reunite with her.”

“Do you think that’s what she’s doing right now?”

She looked out over the horizon. “I don’t know…I certainly hope not. But can you imagine?” She used her hands to show him, passing each other in opposite directions.

“Ships that pass in the night.”

“Isn’t that Longfellow?” she said. “I can barely remember that poem.”

“Yes. The great Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Let’s see how much I can recall.

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,

Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;

So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,

Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.

She sighed. “That is sad…and beautiful.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel worse. And if Malinda is heading east right now…well, there’s nothing to do about it, is there?”

“Look,” he pointed up the river and into the sky. “The first star. Perhaps you should make a wish.”

She smiled. “I’ve already prayed a prayer. That should suffice.”

“All right then, I’ll make a wish.” He stared at the star intently as if he was thinking hard about something.

“What’s your wish?” she asked.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Surely you know that a wish can’t come true if you tell someone.”

She laughed. “I thought only children believed in wishing on stars.”

Now he looked at her with nearly the same intensity that he had looked at the star. “I suppose there is still a child living within me. Just ask my daughters.”

“Speaking of your daughters, I should probably go back and help with dinner.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offered. “Just in case there are any Cayuse lurking about.”

She wished she could make light of this, but thoughts of Malinda’s letter extinguished any humor. And so as they strolled she changed the subject. “Today was a perfectly lovely day,” she said. “I wonder if all our days on the river will be so pleasant.”

“The men piloting the boat say September weather is usually quite nice. But it’s possible a summer storm could stir up. Also, we’ll have some rough waters to go through here and there. It won’t all be smooth sailing.”

“No, of course, not.” Did he really think she thought it would be?

“I’d been meaning to tell you something.”

She paused to pick some wildflowers, avoiding his eyes and hoping he wasn’t about to say something they would both regret.

“I spoke to Brady.”

She stood up with some flowers in her hand. “To Brady?”

“I felt it was only fair that he be informed as to Oregon laws in regard to slavery and land ownership. I asked him if you’d mentioned any of this to him, and he told me you hadn’t.”

Elizabeth frowned. “I know…I had been meaning to…but how does one say something like that? And after all Brady’s been through recently. Nearly drowning and then getting beat up like that. How could I tell him about these new Oregon laws?”

“Yes, that’s what I was worried about. And I didn’t want him riding through Oregon with our young men and perhaps meeting up with some unsavory types, if you get my meaning.”

She nodded grimly. “I’m sorry to say that I do.”

“So I wanted Brady and the others to be warned. And I took it upon myself to do so.”

“What did you tell Brady?”

“I told him that if he wanted to be safe, he should simply pretend that he was their slave and act the part.”

“Oh.” She felt a rush of bitterness at the injustice of this.

“I know. It seems unfair to me as well. But as I explained to Brady, it could be the difference between life and death.” He shook his head. “Also, Brady out there riding as a free man could put our boys in harm’s way…I mean if their group was discovered by the wrong sort of men. So until we reach our destination, I have advised Brady to simply play the part.”

“And what did Brady say?”

“He seemed to understand.” Will winked. “And I told him that I would be proud to be his legal counsel should he need it.”

“That’s generous.” Elizabeth felt a new pang of pity and concern. “Did you tell him…about the other law too? About not being able to own land?”

“I saw no reason to mention that.”

She felt a smidgeon of relief. “I would like to break that to him myself. Once we’re in Fort Vancouver. It’s possible he’ll want to make other plans.” She sighed as they walked a bit farther. “Although I can’t imagine being without Brady. I’ve known him for so long…he feels like family.”

Now Will stopped, bending down to pick a few purple wildflowers that she hadn’t even seen. “And in case I haven’t said so before, Elizabeth…” He handed her several flowers to add to her bouquet. “The company of you and your family certainly makes the trip more pleasurable. I cannot even imagine how bleak this experience might have been if we hadn’t been fortunate enough to travel with you folks.”

She smiled. “Oh, I’m sure you would have met some other fine folks. Your children are quite good at making friends.”

“But that wouldn’t have been the same.” He handed her one more flower with a wistful smile. “I don’t think the trail is the best place to go courting, but once we’re settled, I’d be obliged if you’d let me go about it properly.”

She started walking again. With each step she was trying to think of an honest yet gracious answer, but no words came to her. The truth was that she didn’t know how to answer him. She knew she enjoyed his company. She liked the conversations they shared. And yet…she was unsure.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I told myself I wasn’t going to say another word along these lines. But seeing you in the dusky light…the flowers in your hands…well, you’ll have to forgive me, but it just gets a fellow to dreaming.”

They were nearly in camp, and she still couldn’t think of a proper response. But hearing the voices of the women growing louder, she knew she needed to say something quickly. “Thank you for seeing me back to camp,” she told him. “I’m obliged.” Then she excused herself and hurried over, pretending to be fascinated by how the pie making was progressing. As she chatted with Ruth and Belinda, she felt the female eyes watching her. She knew they had seen the two of them walking into camp together. And they could obviously see the flowers she was now putting into a tin of water. She knew what they were thinking. The problem was that she didn’t really know what she thought yet.

Chapter Twenty-Four