Crimson Palace (6 page)

When they had left their home in the east, he had presumed he would drive the wagon, but they had learned soon enough that he would have to lead the oxen for most of the trip and that another pair of hands would be needed to handle the reins. If he couldn’t find someone to help soon, they would be forced to turn around and head back to where they had come from.

Shinonn waited until the men had finished their conversation and began to head back to their camps for supper.

"Mister?" she called to the man as he began to walk away. "Please, sir, can I talk to you?" she called again as she ran after him.

"What can I do for you, son?" He turned toward her, an expression of curiosity in his eyes.

"I can help you, sir. That is, what I mean to say is, I can drive your oxen for you."

"Not meanin’ to hurt your feelings, sonny, but you don’t seem big enough to be away from your mamma’s apron strings. It don’t seem likely you could drive a wagon team half way across a continent."

"I may be a mite small, mister, but I’ll wager I can handle any animal you’ve got. I’ve spent most of my life working with horses and I’m lots stronger than I look. I even know a bit about blacksmithing, if the need came up."

"Blacksmithing, you say?" The man looked at Shinonn with new interest.

"Yes, sir. My da was a smithy and I helped him a lot. I ran the stable all by myself, too. You’ll not be sorry you hired me, sir. I can guarantee you won’t be."

"Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m not saying yea or nay just yet. I still think you’re a mite small for the job. But what say you come along with me and meet the missis? We’ll see if she can’t find an extra plate for dinner. That sound all right to you?"

"Yes, sir! A woman’s cooking sure does sound good!"

"Horace Carter," the man stated as he held out his hand. "And what did you say your name was, boy?"

"Um, Tim, sir, Tim O’Brien," she answered as she shook the outstretched hand, using the firmest grip she could muster. Thanks to the long days on the trail and the years of hard labor at the corral, her hands were callused and firm. They bore little resemblance to the soft, delicate hands of a woman.

"Irish, eh? I thought you might be." Horace Carter tipped his head to one side, appraising the boy carefully. "Not a drinker, are you? The wife and I don’t abide drinking."

"No, sir. I hate the stuff with a passion"

"I should certainly hope so. But your people do have a reputation for drunkenness. Well, I don’t suppose it would be Christian to blame you for your ancestors excesses. Come along."

The pompous goat, Shinonn thought angrily as she trailed along behind him. Still, if she could hold her tongue, she might just talk him into hiring her. She wanted the job, no matter if she liked her employer or not.

Etta Carter turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Years younger than her husband, she seemed genuinely pleased to have "Tim" as a dinner guest. Shinonn suspected from her soft Southern accent and gracious manners that the young woman felt out of place in the rough environment of the wagon camp.

During the course of the meal Shinonn allowed the couple to draw out the story of her life, being careful to stick to the tale she had created that night on the trail. She saw the look of compassion in Etta’s eyes as she related the tragedy of her parent’s deaths. She explained that she was in search of her only living relative, Patrick Flannery, a cousin who was working in the gold fields in California.

"My goodness! How will you ever find this cousin of yours? You can’t just wander all over the mountains looking for him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"I’ll find him, ma’am. If I can get to California, I know I’ll find cousin Patrick."

"Horace, we’ve simply got to help this brave young man! Why, I’ve never heard of more courage in my life."

The man looked doubtful, but Shinonn could see he was weakening. Horace thoughtfully pulled out two cigars and, nipping the end off of one, handed the other to Shinonn.

"Care for an after dinner smoke?"

She took the cigar, bit the end off like she had seen her father do a thousand times, and leaned forward to light it off Horace’s match. She puffed several times to keep it lit, then casually took it from her lips, looking for all the world as if she had smoked cigars all her life.

"Mr. Carter, do you think we could discuss the job now? I’d sure like to have it settled as soon as possible.’

"Well, I guess we had better come to some agreement. Our train is leaving day after tomorrow and if I don’t hire a hand by then, Etta and I might just as well turn around and head back east.

"I still think you’re a little on the young side, but I’m up against a rock and a hard spot here," he grumbled. He sat for a moment, gazing at the ground. Finally he looked at Shinonn and nodded his head.

"You’ve got the job, sonny. I just hope the Good Lord takes care of us all!"

There was a decided spring to Shinonn’s step as she walked back to her campsite that night. She knocked the ashes from her cigar with a practiced flourish as she strolled along, totally pleased with how she had handled herself.

When she returned to the Carter’s wagon the next morning, Horace was prepared to finalize their contract. He proposed the following: Tim would help with driving the wagon and spell Horace at leading the oxen. The boy was also expected to handle any blacksmithing tasks that might crop up and help Etta around the camp. For these services the Carters would provide food for Tim and his two horses. They would also pay for his passage on the train. Shinonn would stay with them until the train reached the California split. At that point the Carters intended to continue on to Oregon and Tim would be free to go to the gold fields. A simple handshake sealed the verbal contract.

Although her husband was still a bit apprehensive about Tim’s age, Etta was overjoyed to have the boy’s companionship for the long journey ahead.

"Don’t you think he looks just like my baby brother, Johnny?" she asked her husband after all the arrangements had been agreed upon. "Why, I feel just like he’s family!"

***

Light was just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon when Shinonn crawled out of her bedroll and began to break camp. A pot of coffee boiled away over the last campfire she would light at St. Joseph, Missouri. Misty clouds floated eerily over the meadow where people busied themselves, preparing to start out on the grandest adventure of their lives.

At six in the morning of May 16, 1855, a bugle sounded, calling together all those who would begin the westward trek that day. Wagons began pulling toward the staging area. At first it was utter chaos as wagons, children, men and women, old and young, dogs, horses, mules and oxen all tried to find their way to the same open field.

One man seemed to be everywhere, giving directions, yelling orders, cussing like Shinonn had never heard before. Even a stranger would have guessed him to be the leader of the motley assortment of wagons. He was the wagon master, the man who was responsible for getting them all safely to their destinations.

When forty wagons had reached the staging area, two long blasts on the bugle announced a meeting of all the men, the last meeting they would have before turning their faces west for the long haul ahead.

Shinonn stood with the men, an accepted member of the group since she had signed on with Horace Carter. She strained to catch the words of Big Ed Peterson, the wagon master. He had a booming voice to match his enormous body, but there were so many people milling about that she had difficulty hearing all he said.

"You’ve got your numbers, so there’s no excuse for getting out of order. Now, you all stay in the order I’ve put you, unless I say otherwise.

"We’ll be traveling in sets of ten, with cattle following each set. When we set up camp tonight, we’ll practice making the circles. I want to see four circles of wagons, ten wagons each. And no questions about who’s in which circle. Got that?

"If any of you have problems with each other, you bring those problems to me. I won’t be having you fighting amongst yourselves. We’re going to have problems enough without you people making more.

"Now, I am the captain of this assembly. I am the law. The only law. What I say goes. Anyone who can’t abide by that had better pull out now." He paused and looked around the gathering of men. Finally, apparently satisfied he had said all that was necessary, he ended his remarks with a simple question.

"Gentlemen, shall we be on our way?"

He climbed upon his huge stallion and began barking orders as the assembled men returned to their families. Big Ed’s hired crew somehow managed to get the first wagons heading in the right direction and, one by one, the others fell into line.

A cool breeze seemed to wave farewell to the emigrants as they left the safety of civilization and headed toward their dreams.

Chapter 5

The air was split with a loud "ka-wack!" as Shinonn cracked the whip crisply just behind the lead oxen’s ear. A thrill raced through her veins at the decisive sound. Sitting side-by-side on the high seat of the Conestoga, she and Etta Carter grinned at each other with uncontrolled excitement as they felt the wheels beneath them turn. This was it! They were finally on their way.

Etta held tiny Hannah in her arms, the baby making fretful noises as the wagon began its creaky journey along the hard packed, well-traveled road. Sitting so close to the child, Shinonn felt an added pressure to handle the awkward leather reins with utmost care.

"I don’t know if Hannah can actually sense the excitement I’m feeling or if she’s just hungry," Etta said as she gently rocked her restless daughter. "Do you think such a young baby might actually feel all the excitement in the air?"

"I’m not one to be asking about babies, ma’am. I was an only child, and my ma, well, she didn’t have many lady friends around. I don’t rightly remember even holding an infant before."

"Well, we’ll remedy that before this journey is over." Etta held the baby to her shoulder, patting her gently on the back in an effort to stop her fussing. When the cries only increased in intensity, she realized that Hannah wanted more than she was getting at the moment.

"It appears that just holding Hannah isn’t going to shush her this time. She’s bound and determined to have her breakfast right here and now." Etta handed Shinonn the tiny, squirming child while she climbed down into the recesses of the wagon. Reaching up for her daughter, the young mother smiled radiantly into Shinonn’s eyes.

"I don’t believe I’ve ever been so happy in all my life, Tim. Horace has been having doubts that we’re doing the right, bringing Hannah out to a new, unsettled land and all, but I’m sure we’ve made the right decision. I can hardly wait to see Oregon and the great Pacific Ocean. What a wonderful life she will have!"

The young mother’s enthusiasm added fuel to the already brightly burning fire within Shinonn’s breast.

She remembered the dullness of the life she herself had left behind. Whatever happened in the days to come, she was certain the deadening dullness of prairie life would never entrap her again.

Etta had fastened the canvas covering the wagon so she could nurse her child in privacy, but Shinonn could hear her crooning softly as the baby suckled. What good fortune that she had found the Carters.

Although Horace tried to act gruff, inside he was a good and caring man. And Etta was like the sister Shinonn had never had. A light of love glittered brightly between the married couple, overflowing happily to the child their love had created.

I wonder what it would be like to be loved like that, Shinonn thought wistfully, to have a man look at her in that special way, to have him pledge his life to loving only her. Suddenly the image of Lincoln Bradley filled her mind. A stab of longing filled her as she remembered his brooding eyes, his hauntingly soft voice, the unspoken promise of his mysterious half-smile.

Don’t be daft, her practical mind argued. Haven’t you had enough of men in your life? Do you want to be another Rose Flannery, living in the shadow of an irresponsible man? Stop thinking like a romantic girl and remember who you’re supposed to be. If you aren’t careful, you’ll let your disguise slip and will be exposed for the fraud you are. Then where will you be?

She cracked the whip again, reminding the oxen who was in charge. The pace was slow but steady, exactly what such animals were most suited for. Shinonn found herself craving more speed, but knew that a steady pace was what it would take to cross the vast territory ahead.

The slowly moving line of wagons stretched out for nearly a mile. Between each set of ten wagons trailed a small heard of cattle with extra horses tied behind most of the wagons. Men rode on horseback alongside the wagons, urging the oxen on, chasing down wandering beefs, checking harness riggings.

And most surprising of all to Shinonn, most of the women who were not actually driving wagons walked beside them. Children who were old enough to keep up the pace, walked with their mothers. Could these people actually plan on walking all the way to California or Oregon? As the days progressed, Shinonn discovered that this was precisely what was expected of the women and children.

As the wagon train inched its way across the vast land, friendships and enmities formed. Fortunately, those travelers in Shinonn’s group of wagons got along well enough. Before many days had passed a bond of camaraderie formed between the various families, drawing them together, creating a tightly knit community.

The couple traveling in the wagon just in front of the Carter’s Conestoga amused and fascinated Shinonn. The wife, Sofie Santini, appeared to be in her late twenties, while her husband, Alex, looked to be nearly fifty years old. Pretty Sofie, with her pale blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, had more than her share of feminine curves. High spirited, she appeared unable to refrain from flirting with every man she met. Far from becoming angry, her husband seemed amused by his high spirited wife. Rather than showing jealousy, he seemed quite content to bask in her sunny disposition. Watching the two together one evening, Shinonn decided that they seemed more like very close friends than husband and wife.