A Dream for Tomorrow (14 page)

“Perhaps.”

They continued the grueling climb up Prospect Hill—a hard haul across a bleak and barren landscape. As Elizabeth drove, her mouth became so dry that she had difficultly swallowing, and she was forced to take small sips of water just to wash down the alkaline dust. She hadn’t mentioned her shortage of water to her family. But before they left in the morning, Will had sent Jeremiah with another bucket of water.

“Your family saved this animal’s life,” she’d told him as she showed him Goldie.

He smiled. “She’s a pretty cow.”

“She’s a Guernsey.”

“I’m sure she’ll be valuable once you settle.”

Elizabeth tried to imagine it now, what it would be like when they reached their destination—the Promised Land of southern Oregon. Malinda had painted such lovely word pictures in her letters. Rolling green hills, crystal clear springs and rivers, tall evergreens, mild winters…and the ocean was only a half a day’s travel from them. It all sounded wonderful, especially compared to this horrible place. But thinking of Malinda’s letters about Oregon reminded Elizabeth that she still had not heard back from her sister-in-law. Although she checked for mail at every possible stop—longing to get some kind of confirmation that John and Malinda knew they were coming, some reassurance that all was well—there was never a letter. By now more than enough time had transpired for Malinda to respond to the letter Elizabeth had sent back in January. Elizabeth tried not to dwell on this, but it was unnerving.

She had been careful not to reveal her concerns to her family. But sometimes, especially in the dark of night or driving through this wasteland, she felt very worried. What if something bad had happened to John and Malinda and the children? What if there had been an epidemic? Or, worse, an Indian raid? Father had mentioned that Oregon Country had experienced some incidents of Indian aggression during the past few years, but Malinda had never mentioned such goings-on in her cheerful letters, so Elizabeth had simply assumed those troubles were in another part of the territory. After all, Oregon was a vast piece of land.

To distract herself from fretting about their Oregon relatives, she tried to imagine what today’s destination, the Sweetwater River, would look like. The name alone seemed to suggest heaven. And the thought of water made her thirsty again. She reached for the canteen, which was nearly empty—not because she’d been guzzling it, but because she’d poured less than a cup of water into it after their midday stop, convincing herself she could make it through this day with just enough droplets to moisten her mouth. The rest of their remaining water had gone to the livestock for the final leg of this journey, reserving about the last gallon for the children and Brady, minus her meager portion and a bit for Mrs. Taylor, who planned to sleep throughout the afternoon.

But Brady and the children needed more water since they were afoot in order to lighten the wagon’s load. She’d considered asking Mrs. Taylor to walk along with them, but the poor woman seemed pitifully worn out after walking all morning. Elizabeth had felt sorry for her out there on foot, stumbling wearily along and sweltering in that heavy black woolen dress. It was ironic that Mrs. Taylor only wore black even before her husband’s tragedy.

Trying not to feel too put out over the grieving woman’s extra weight in the wagon, especially since her own children were walking, Elizabeth reminded herself that their load had lightened considerably after using up most of the water they’d started with at Horse Creek. Plus she’d told JT he could ride Molly if need be, and she’d encouraged Ruth to join her grandparents if she got too hot or tired. And rubbing his sore backside, Brady had assured her he was happy to walk.

Elizabeth peeled off her riding gloves and rolled up her sleeves. She then untied the strings of her prairie bonnet and even unbuttoned several top buttons of her shirtwaist, hoping that some stray breeze of stagnant air might cool her some. This was going to be a very long afternoon—perhaps the longest afternoon of the entire journey. She suddenly wished she’d invited Ruth to ride with her. Really, what difference would sixty or seventy more pounds have made? And Ruthie’s chatter was always such a good distraction. If she were here, they might even be singing. Or maybe not. Elizabeth’s throat felt so dry she wasn’t sure she’d be able to croak out a tune.

Still, to pass the time, she decided to sing a song inside her head, but the only tune that came to her was the cowboy song Matthew and JT had played before bed last night, and it wasn’t a very happy song. Even so, the lyrics from the first verse seemed to be stuck in her head now, and there she let them stay, running the lonesome tune through her head again and again.

“Afternoon, Elizabeth.”

She looked over, surprised to see Eli and his horse walking alongside her wagon, curiously watching her. Maybe she’d been wrong to assume he’d been avoiding her after all.

“Afternoon, Eli.” She nodded, giving him a polite smile.

“You appeared deep in thought…with a very troubling expression. Is something troubling you?” He waved his hand. “Something other than the last day on Devil’s Backbone?”

“Truth be told, I was simply singing a song inside of my head,” she confessed.

He grinned with interest. “Now what song would that be, I wonder…?”

“Just an old cowboy song.”

“I happen to like old cowboy songs.” His blue eyes twinkled, and the wrinkles on the edges of his eyes crinkled in a way that softened her on the inside. “Won’t you share it with me?”

She considered refusing him but then wondered why. What did it matter if she sounded foolish? At least it would help pass the time. “I only know the first verse,” she admitted.

“I’d love to hear it.” He leaned forward with interest.

So holding her head high, she cleared her throat and sang.

Oh, bury me not, on the lone prairie,

Where the coyotes wail and the wind blows free.

When I die, don’t bury me

’Neath the western sky, on the lone prairie.

He took off his hat, slapped it across his thigh, and threw back his head, laughing loudly. “Well, if that’s not an entirely appropriate song for this leg of the journey, Elizabeth. I thank you for sharing it with me.”

She twisted the end of the reins in her hands. “You’re welcome…I suppose.”

“And since you were so kind to sing the first verse to me, would you like me to sing the rest of the song to you?”

“Of course, if you know it.”

“I most certainly do.” He put his hat back on then sang out in a rich baritone.

“Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie.”

These words came soft and painfully

From the pallid lips of a boy who lay

On his dying bed, at the break of day.

But we buried him there on the lone prairie,

Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free,

In a shallow grave, no one to grieve,

’Neath the western sky, on the lone prairie.

To her surprise, she felt a lump growing in her parched throat. “That was beautiful, Eli. Beautiful and sad.” She slowly shook her head. “I don’t wish to see anyone else buried on this trip.”

“Nor do I.” He reached for his canteen. Fancier than her plain brown container, his was covered in black and white cowhide with a beaded leather tassel hanging down. “I’d almost forgotten that song altogether. I haven’t heard it in a coon’s age.”

“If you’d been at our camp, you’d have heard it last night,” she told him a bit sharply.

He slowly loosened the cap of his canteen. “That makes me wonder…am I still welcome at your campsite?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” She peered curiously at him.

“There’s a rumor rumbling through this wagon train…”

“What sort of rumor?” Even as she asked this, she recalled how some of the older girls had been talking about her and Eli following Matthew and Jess’ wedding. She also remembered how she had warned Ruth to be wary of gossip.

“It’s the usual sort of rumor.”

“Please, don’t think I’m encouraging you to repeat rumors, Eli.” She pushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it under her bonnet. “I certainly don’t appreciate idle gossip.”

“Yes, that’s wise.” He took a short swig from his handsome canteen. As he put the cap back on, glancing over his shoulder, she suddenly felt worried he might leave without telling her why he’d been avoiding her.

“Although I am curious as to how a rumor would make you believe you’re unwelcome at our campsite, Eli. Hasn’t my family always received you with open arms? And JT and Matthew enjoy it immensely when you play music with them—although I must admit our singing was not with great enthusiasm last night. Everyone was very tired.”

“I can understand that.”

“But I’m still curious, Eli. Why would you be unwelcome at our campsite?”

“So you do want to know about the rumor after all?”

She shrugged then made a sheepish smile. “I suppose I do.” She waved her hand to the vast emptiness all around them. “I’ve been so desperate for distractions that I am humming sad cowboy tunes in my head.”

“There are worse ways to spend your time.”

“Please,” she insisted, “tell me this rumor. Perhaps I can dispel it for you.”

“The rumor is that a certain attorney from Boston is courting you.”

“Courting me?” She opened her eyes wide. “Will? Courting me?”

He simply nodded, but he studied her with an intensity that made her wonder.

“Well, hopefully you don’t believe everything you hear, Eli.”

“Are you saying it’s untrue?”

“It’s untrue as far as I know.” She sat up straight. “I am being courted by no one.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

She felt her cheeks growing hot. To distract him, she reached for her canteen and started to take a sip but then remembered that except for a few drops, it was empty. Flustered, she set it down on the seat beside her and fixed her gaze back on her team.

“
Are you out of water?
”

She shrugged, forcing a smile for him. “I am fine.”

“
Elizabeth
?” He looked intently at her. “Tell me the truth. Are you
out
of water?”

“My livestock were all thoroughly watered on our midday break. My children, Brady, and Mrs. Taylor all have sufficient water. We are fine, Eli.”

“I’m asking about
you
.”

She sighed.

Now he leaned over and reached for her canteen, leaving his in its place. “I’ll exchange that back with you at the Sweetwater River,” he told her in a firm voice. Then he turned his horse and trotted away. She waited until he was out of sight to pick up the canteen. It was nearly full. She slowly opened it, taking a long swig of cool refreshing water. As she recapped the canteen, she wondered when she’d ever tasted anything so perfectly delicious and satisfying.

By the time the Sweetwater River was within sight, Eli’s canteen was as dry as her own had been. Between her and Mrs. Taylor, they drank every drop. She had felt sorry to pass several wagons that were unable to continue due to animal fatigue and thirst. Some of the animals looked like they might not even survive the day, but when she paused to inquire, their owners assured her that help had been promised.

“The captain said that a rescue team will be back here before dark,” a woman from unit two told her. “With water and fresh animals.”