Brides of Prairie Gold (49 page)

My Journal, September, 1852. Augusta gave us her mother's tea set as a wedding gift and wished us a long and happy life together. Everyone has changed so much during this arduous journey. I wept today when I realized how much I will miss these courageous women when we part in three weeks. We have come so far. I pray to God that we complete this last leg of the trip without mishap.

Mem Coate, Lady Albany

Cody stood atop the cliff wall, gazing down at the dangerous, swiftly flowing currents of the wide Columbia River.

There were four possible choices to cover the remaining ninety miles to the Willamette Valley and Clampet Falls.

He could arrange ferries to carry them down the wild Columbia. But drowned passengers were a common result of ferry expeditions. Moreover, the ferries charged a fee comparable to extortion, and he suspected several of his brides had depleted the bulk of their funds.

They could abandon the wagons and hire Indians to float them downriver by canoe, also a soberingly dangerous undertaking, but not as expensive as the ferries. Or he could order Heck Kelsey to break up the wagons and build rafts from the wood. Rafts would eliminate expense, but might increase the danger.

Finally, he could opt to cross the rugged Cascade Mountains by taking the Barlow Toll Road around Mount Hood. Road was an egregious misnomer. The trail was no more than ruts passing over rough-hacked tree stumps, boulders, and daunting inclines. It wasn't a wise choice for travelers as exhausted and weakened as his brides had become.

None of the choices was attractive. Each possibility presented grave perils and mixed advantages.

"I must speak to you!"

Surprised by the tone of voice, he turned to discover Ona Norris standing directly behind him. He hadn't heard her approach. "Miss Norris, I've told you repeatedly that communications must go through the women's representative."

All of the women had changed throughout the journey. Perrin, despite being shunned by most, now carried her head high, and dignity and confidence distinguished her step. Augusta would never be a person Cody could warm to, but she had grown and matured into a capable woman. With the promise of a husband, Cora had bloomed. Hilda and Sarah shared expertise, provisions, and gave generously of themselves. Thea and Bootie were no longer the dreaming scatter-brains they had seemed at the beginning. And Mem had surprised everyone by blossoming into a beauty. All were stronger, tougher, more outspoken and self-sufficient than they had been at the initial interview where he first met them.

These were the courageous women who would tame Oregon and who would sacrifice their labor and their hearts to the territory's future. They would do it well and with distinction.

Except Ona Norris. Ona Norris had begun as a pretty, almost flirtatious girl, but would end the journey as an acid, furious harpy composed of jangled nerves and ugly moods. Cody gazed into her darting pale eyes and recalled a rabid dog he had shot in the Dakotas.

"We're almost there!" She spat the words as if accusing him of something. Bony fingers twitched in the folds of her skirt. Whatever poison she carried inside made her appear ten years older than Cody knew she was. Instead of making her stronger, the journey had robbed her of youth and inner resources.

"That's correct," he said, injecting a soothing note into his tone. Lifting his head, he cast a glance toward the wagons, looking for Sarah to take Ona off his hands. He spotted her momentarily, then she moved behind the wagons. "In less than three weeks, you'll have a husband and a home of your own."

She stared at him, then her shoulders dropped and she covered her face with her hands. "Thank God," she whispered. "I've waited so longso long!to hear you say that. Oh, Cody."

Only Sarah, Perrin, and Mem addressed him as Cody. His attention sharpened. Something was wrong here. "Mr. Riddley is waiting for you," he said carefully, unsure what he sensed. "I've met Riddley, and he's a good man."

Her hands dropped and she glared at him with slightly unfocused pale eyes. A hiss pulled thin lips back from her teeth.

"I'm warning you, no more games! No more! I've done everything you asked, succeeded at the tests you threw at me. I've punished the whore and driven her off. What more do you want from me? I've proven my love again and again!"

His mouth dropped and he stared in astonishment.

"Don't tease me with talk about Nathan Riddley. I need to know about our plans. I need to know, Cody. We're almost there and I can't go on like this." Shaking, she covered her face again. "Sometimes I think I'm losing my sanity. That's what you've done to me. You have pushed me to the edge of darkness with your endless and cruel games! I should hate you for what you've done, but I still love you."

Speechless, he tried to frame words, failed, then tried again. "What in the name of God are you talking about?"

"About us!" she shouted, spittle flying from her lips. "You promised to marry me, don't pretend you didn't! I waited and waited. I tormented myself. I feared our secret love was hopeless. Then Ellen wrote and asked me to keep her company during her confinement. It was a sign from God, blessing our love."

"Ellen, my wife? Ellen wrote you?"

"After she died I waited for you to come for me. But you had to wait out the mourning period. I figured that out. And after the mourning period, I finally realized you were waiting for me to come to you, so I traveled to Chastity to my aunt and uncle. You should have come for me then, you should have, Cody. I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm angry now that you didn't!"

While she ranted about waiting, and her aunt and uncle, and all she had done to prove her love, he stared at her, stunned by what he was hearing. Finally he saw the faint resemblance to Ellen's family that had initially made him think Ona reminded him of someone. Mind racing, he shuffled backward through the years, trying to recall where and when he might have met her. He must have. If she knew Ellen, then she hadn't invented this tale.

Ellen. His wedding day. The home of Ellen's aunt, Eugenia Norris. With a small jolt, he realized Mrs. Norris must have been Ona's mother. The house overflowed with friends in dress uniform and friends of Ellen's family, dozens of people. He remembered entering the house, still a little drunk from all the toasts from the night before, and he had noticed a plain shy girl pressed into a corner gazing at him.

He stared hard at Ona. She was older now, but it could have been her, it must have been. Ellen's cousin. Imbued with the exuberance of the day, he had tried to draw the girl out of her corner. He remembered lifting her chin, smiling into her eyes, and flattering her outrageously. Perhaps he had inquired why the prettiest girl at the wedding was hiding in a corner. Perhaps he had begged for a dance later. She couldn't have been older thanwhat?thirteen or fourteen years? No more than a child who momentarily blossomed in the light of an adult's attention.

To her, he must have seemed dashing and faintly exotic, the handsome young army officer about to marry her beautiful cousin. She had stared at him and blurted the comment, "I worship you." Cody remembered laughing, maybe he had said he loved her too rather than embarrass her. It was possible that, believing he bolstered the confidence of a painfully shy adolescent, he had made some stupid remark that perhaps he was marrying the wrong cousin. Dimly he recalled her saying something about waiting for him in case Ellen died, and concealing his distaste for such a remark by replying that she should wait for a love worthy of her. Apparently she had mistakenly believed he referred to himself.

The incident had been so fleeting, so slight and unimportant, that he had forgotten it, and her, entirely.

"It was you," he said abruptly, putting it together. "You placed the piece of cake in my vest"

"Your own wedding cake!"

"And the ribbon"

"From Ellen's bouquet. I even gave you part of the bouquet itself. Far better signs than you ever gave me!"

"Ona you slashed my bedroll. Was that you?"

Crimson flooded her cheeks. "I thought you had abandoned me for the whore. That was before I understood you were testing me, before I realized what you wanted me to do. I didn't kill her, but I wounded her. If you still want me to kill her, I will."

"You're mad," he said softly. The journey west had driven others mad before her. He should have watched more carefully, shouldn't have made himself so inaccessible. Should have

Her fingers curved and she dragged them across her breast like claws. "Don't say that!" She hissed at him, and her eyes darted. "Ellen said that, and I hate it!"

"Ona, listen to me." He didn't have a notion what he would say next and was almost relieved to be interrupted.

Two disastrous events occurred simultaneously. A snowflake tumbled lazily out of the sky and settled in Ona's dark hair, followed by another, then another. The sight appalled him. Before Cody could consider the consequences of early snow, Webb Coate broke out of the forest, running toward them. One glance at Webb's face, and Cody felt his gut tighten. There was something worse than an early wet snowstorm. And it was coming toward him.

They had awakened to frozen water buckets and a heavy, chill fog floating among the firs and cedars, drifting as low as the tansy and ragwort that grew thick against the forest floor. The fog didn't burn off, but eventually rose to hover near the tops of the trees, leaving dripping branches behind. It was a cold unpleasant day.

Perrin unpacked her heaviest shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders, then labored to coax damp wood into flames. When she had the fire crackling, she sat beside the heat, gritting her teeth as icy droplets spotted her skirt with moisture. Warming her hands around a mug of coffee, she mentally listed all the things she should do today. The chores seemed overwhelming; the effort to build a fire had worn her out.

Everyone blamed the altitude for sapping their energy, but in truth they were all weakened by malnourishment, minor illnesses, and the rigors of the journey. Even Hilda, whom Perrin considered indestructible, suffered a touch of dysentery. Thea continued to fight a runny nose and sore throat. Bootie was slightly jaundiced. Everyone's flow cycles had ceased two months ago. They had all lost weight.

Sighing deeply, Perrin sipped coffee which had cooled rapidly in the cold air. Refusing to accommodate the indignities of dysentery or permit herself to rest, Hilda had gone off to meet Cora for a reading lesson, and Perrin was alone. The familiar sounds of the camp swirled around her, Heck's persistent hammering, Miles's murmur to the surviving animals, the sound of women's weary voices calling out in inquiry or annoyance.

The sounds opened a well of loneliness inside her chest.

Very soon the brides would marry and scatter to homes along the Willamette Valley. Mem and Bootie would sail to England. Perrin would seek employment in Clampet Falls, her future an empty space waiting to be filled.

Perhaps she would occasionally glimpse Cody when he rode into town to purchase supplies for his ranch. Perhaps they would nod to each other, or exchange polite howdy-dos. He might remark on the weather; she would agree. Then they would walk away as if this journey had never happened, as if they had not yearned for one another, as if they had not lain in each other's arms one warm night when the air itself sang of love and lovers.

No, she commanded herself, tilting her head to blink hard at a leaden sky. She would not think about him. She would not long for him or weep for him. She would not wish there had been no Ellen or no Joseph, would not mourn the past or the future.

If Cody wanted her, she was his. She had all but spelled it out for him. Since that humiliating conversation, she had felt him watching, had sensed his agitation and his black mood. She knew he thought about her and fought a private war as the journey approached an end. But he had said nothing, had offered no signal that anything had changed.

And how could it? Time would not erase the fact of Joseph Boyd. Or Ellen's betrayal. Or all the dark confusion those events unleashed in Cody Snow's heart.

And yet something stubborn and dogged clung to the small hope that one daysoon, please soonthe sun would rise and Cody Snow would recognize and admit that he loved Perrin Waverly. He did love her. She read it in his eyes, felt it whenever he came near. He didn't want to love her, she knew that, but he did. And she knew that too. That was their tragedy.

A deep sigh lifted her breast and she clutched her shawl close to her throat. As soon as she could save enough money, she would go to California. Whatever she found in California would be easier to endure than the torment of waiting and hoping to glimpse Cody in Clampet Falls and the pain of loss that would wound like a blade when she did encounter him.

She blinked at tears in her eyes. She was wasting the morning torturing herself with thoughts of Cody Snow after she had promised she would not do this anymore. Standing abruptly, she shook icy droplets from her shawl, then looked around, seeking a diversion that would focus her thoughts on something, on anything, else.

Contemplating the forest, she decided a walk would clear her mind, and she could search the undergrowth for herbs to replenish her medical box. With luck, she might discover something to ease Hilda's discomfort or something to boost her own flagging energy.

After fetching a basket, she called across the wagons to Mem and gestured toward the forest, then she pushed through a thicket of wild blackberries, long since stripped of fruit, and entered the cool scented stillness of pine and alder.

An hour later, her basket brimming with interesting specimens, she returned through the tree trunks toward the sounds of the camp, pleased to note that she'd worked up an appetite for the salmon purchased from visiting Indians late yesterday.

She felt rather than heard a rush behind her. Before she could whirl or utter a sound, a dirty hand thrust across her shoulder and clamped over her mouth. The basket fell from her fingers, and she struggled silently with a man who dragged her backward.