Emma's Journey (22 page)

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Emma didn’t realize she’d fallen back to sleep until she felt a swat on her fanny. “Time to get up, lazy bones.” Davis leaned over her.

“What time is it?” Emma asked, stretching.

Davis checked his pocket watch. “Seven o’clock.”

“Oh, I better get up. I have to get the ham and turkey in the oven before we leave for church.”

“What time is Jeb’s service?” Davis pulled his pants on.

“Ten. But I have a lot to do before then.” She groaned when she realized she could no longer see her feet to put on her slippers. She had two more months to go. It seemed as though she had been pregnant forever, and wondered if most women felt that way.

Again she thought of her parents, and how much she would like to have her mama with her as she went through this. There was so much she needed to ask her. Mae was a good substitute, but there was nothing like your own mother at a time like this.

She wondered how her parents would be spending this day, the first Christmas that Emma wasn’t with them. A lone tear spilled down her cheek as she thought of Christmas in Indiana. The special foods her mama would make, the service at the small church she had attended all her life.

After Davis left the room to start a fire in the stove, she sat on the edge of the bed, filled with melancholy and longing. The tug to return to Indiana was strong on this special day. Maybe Davis would listen to reason after the baby came, and agree to move there.

Emma shook her head. He’d been adamant from the day they’d married that he would not take her back to Indiana. It wasn’t fair. One man dragged her from her home, another one kept her from returning.

She absently rubbed her stomach, maternal warmth spreading through her. Mustering up her resolve, she refused to let sad thoughts ruin this day. Mentally swatting herself, she dressed in one of her old dresses, saving her good dress for church. Soon she headed downstairs to join Davis to begin this first Christmas in her new house.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hand in hand, Emma and Davis approached the small church at the end of Main Street, where the building stood proud, announcing to all it was ready to minister to the community.

Garbed in a deep blue flowered dress with lace ruffles at the end of the sleeves and around the bodice, the extra fabric she’d allowed for the bottom of the dress covered her decently, but certainly did not hide her encroaching childbirth. Her black wool coat, however, did not close all the way, much to her annoyance and Davis’s amusement.

Hair slicked back but still curling over his collar, he’d dressed in black wool pants, a white shirt, string tie, and a black vest. Since the day was not cold, due to Oregon’s mild winters, he’d left off his coat.

“Davis, Emma, so good to see you. Merry Christmas.” Jeb Preston shook hands with Davis and gave Emma a hug. The preacher had put his heart and soul into finishing the church and spreading the word that he was ready to assume the duties of minister and confidant.

Despite her illness, Abigail had risen from her bed to attend the first service her son would conduct in his new church. She stood alongside Jeb with the aid of a cane, and still had trouble speaking, but those who had daily contact with her had no problem understanding. The older woman greeted the members as they arrived, with Elizabeth on one side and Jeb on the other. Jeb and Elizabeth’s two young girls, dressed in matching coats, stood next to their mother.

Elizabeth, in her sixth month of pregnancy had lost the frail look that troubled Dr. Quigley, and now glowed with good health and happiness.

“You’re looking very well, Elizabeth,” Emma took her hands and kissed her friend on the cheek.

“Thank you, and you’re glowing as an expectant mother should, yourself.”

“Are you all settled now?”

“Yes we are. And with Abigail on her way to recovery, things are running smoothly.” Elizabeth squeezed Emma’s fingers. “I want you to know how much we appreciated your help when Abigail was sick.”

Jeb turned to the women. “I know I was pretty busy then and I may not have told you how fortunate we felt to have you and Davis as friends.”

“I was honored to help out,” Emma said. “Abigail is looking good, too.” She moved over to the older woman and gave her a hug.

“It’s good to see you, Abigail.”

“Good to see you, too.” Her words were a bit slurred, but Emma had no trouble grasping her message. The sparkle still in her eyes, and her smile, even though it drooped a bit, was still Abigail.

“I hear you’re all settled in your new house.” Elizabeth returned her attention to Emma after greeting another congregant.

“Yes, all settled except for some painting and other things I want to do. But I expect to wait until after the baby’s born to do anything else.”

“Yes, waiting’s exactly what you’ll be doing.” Davis glared at Emma as he took Elizabeth’s hands and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Uh, oh.” Elizabeth chuckled. “It looks like Papa has laid down the law.”

Emma raised her chin and sniffed.

They entered the church and settled in seats near the front. The inside of the church was lovely, and showed touches that were obviously Elizabeth’s work. Poinsettias scattered around the sanctuary, interspersed with greens. A beautifully painted nativity set held a place of honor in the sanctuary.

The church was filled, which pleased Emma since this was Jeb’s first service. Jeb moved to the front of the church, and facing those who had gathered for the celebration, he began a familiar Christmas carol, leading the congregation with his rich bass voice.

Emma enjoyed the service, but again with a touch of melancholy at the thought of not seeing her parents on this day they had all delighted in so much. The songs were familiar, and the sermon from Jeb brought back memories of so many Christmases, sitting with her parents and listening to the Word of God. Soon after the service, they would return home to a huge meal Mama had fixed, and then they would present each other with small gifts.

Sniffing, she tried to discreetly wipe the tears with her fingers, but soon felt Davis poke her arm and hand her his handkerchief. She used it to blot her eyes and wipe her nose. She took a deep breath and promised herself she wasn’t going to continue being a watering pot on this day.

She cast a glance at Davis, who winked at her. She had no cause to feel sorry for herself. God had been good to her. She had a lovely new house, a husband who cared for her, and in a couple of months, she would hold her baby. Feeling much better, she started the next Christmas hymn with gusto enough to make the startled couple in front of her turn around. She just nodded at them, and enjoyed the rest of the service.

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Davis pushed back his chair from the table that still groaned under all the food Emma had fixed for Christmas dinner. The turkey and ham had been done to perfection, and all the extras of potatoes, carrots, jellies, biscuits and gravy had allowed them to partake of much more than needed. Mae had also contributed her special cole slaw and two pies.

Hans and Davis shared glasses of brandy, and the women sipped on coffee.

“This has been such a wonderful Christmas, Emma. I miss my boys so much at times like this. It would be nice if only one of them had married and stayed near us. To have a few grandchildren, oh my, such a blessing that would be.” Mae sighed heavily. Reaching over to pat Emma’s hand, she added, “And I guess you miss your mama and papa, too?”

“Yes, I do. We had such wonderful Christmases growing up in Indiana. Mama always cooked a great meal, and Papa would bring down from the attic our little crèche that we set in a place of honor on the mantel.”

Sensing tears on the horizon, Davis left his chair and hastened into the parlor, returning with a small gaily-wrapped box, tied with a bright red ribbon. “Merry Christmas, honey.” He knelt on one knee alongside Emma’s chair and handed her the box.

“Oh, Davis,” Emma said as she took the box and began sniffing again. Davis reached into his pocket and took out another new handkerchief and handed it to her.

With shaky hands, Emma unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a small, delicate stained glass box. She unfastened the clasp on the front and lifted the lid. Sweet music began to play as a small cat on a pedestal moved in a circle. A mirror on the back of the lid reflected the dancing animal.

“Thank you so much, this is so pretty.” Emma beamed.

Both the Bergers commented on the loveliness of the gift, and complimented Davis on his choice. Emma, in turn, ambled into the parlor and returned with a box she presented to her husband. Inside laid a beautiful, light and dark brown scarf Emma had managed to knit in small bits of time between preparing her new house for Christmas.

“Darlin’, I love this. Thank you so much.” He immediately wrapped the scarf around his neck, and leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Did you enjoy your Christmas?” he asked, running his fingers lightly up and down her arm.

“Yes. This has been such a wonderful Christmas.” Then she burst into tears and waddled from the room.

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Davis walked out his back door and glanced up at the sky, studying the clouds. He had a sneaking suspicion the weather was soon going to take a turn for the worst. The air was crisp and cold, and if those clouds were any indication, either rain or snow would be arriving before nightfall.

Most of the emigrants who packed up and headed west knew in addition to the abundant, fertile land in Oregon territory, they would be blessed with mild winters. And while there was truth to that, every once in a while the mild winter would take a turn and hit Oregon with a major snowstorm.

Blowing on his cupped hands to warm them, Davis joined Emma in the kitchen. “Looks like we might be in for some snow.” He poured a cup of steaming coffee and pulled out a chair to sit.

“Snow? I didn’t think Oregon got snow.”

“Snowstorms need cold air and moisture. You don’t generally find those two at the same time here, but once in a while a snowstorm will happen. If cold air from the arctic drops south right there along the Columbia River Basin, the valleys fill up with cold air. Moisture that moves across the area creates rain, and if the air is cold, you’ll get snow instead.”

Emma placed both hands on her swollen belly and rubbed. “Sounds complicated to me.”

“I’m going to run into town to get some supplies.” He watched her over the rim of his coffee cup. Dark circles under her eyes and a drawn expression concerned him.

Emma stirred cream into a cup of coffee, her breakfast of toast still sitting in front of her, but pushed aside. “I don’t feel up to the trip today. My back’s been hurting all night. I think I might have strained it when I hung those curtains in the baby’s room yesterday.”

He shook his head. “I told you I would do that. You need to slow down, Emma. You’re getting close to the end here.” Seeing tears filling her eyes, he softened his features. “No, you don’t have to come, I can go myself. Just make me up a list of what we need. If we do get smacked with some bad weather, I want to make sure we have what we need for a while.”

Davis strode to the hooks along the back wall and reached for his fleece coat, which he put over the flannel shirt tucked into wool pants. The scarf that Emma had given him for Christmas came next, along with leather gloves and finally, his hat.

“Emma, did you make up that list?” He strolled into the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry, I was just daydreaming. I’ll do it right away.”

She groaned and kneaded her back as she got up from the chair and shuffled over to the counter to write her list.

“Honey, you don’t look too good. Are you feeling all right?”

“I think I’m just tired. I would be fine if it wasn’t for this backache.”

“I want you to lie down while I’m gone. No hanging curtains or putting up other doodads today.” He tilted her chin up and gave her a quick kiss before heading to the door. He turned back with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to make this a quick trip.”

An hour later the snow began to fall when Davis was about fifteen minutes outside of Oregon City. Rather than starting off slow as many storms do, this one kicked right in. Within minutes, a fine layer of white covered the ground. Davis hunkered down in the wagon, tugged the collar of his coat up and hurried the horses. If it kept falling at this rate, it could be hard to get home. He pulled his hat down as the blinding snow whirled around and hit him in the face like tiny needles.

The mercantile was dark, the “closed” sign displayed in the window. Davis tied the horses to the hitching post and banged on the door. He wiped the snow off the small glass, and peered in. The curtain separating the store from the house area moved, and Davis spotted Hans hurrying to the door.

“What are you doing out here in this terrible weather?” Hans asked as he closed the door behind him and fumbled with the kerosene lantern. “Come into the kitchen. Mae has coffee on. When we saw the snow falling, we decided to close up since we didn’t think anyone would come out.”

Davis smiled as he unbuttoned his coat, thinking that was the longest speech he’d ever heard the usually taciturn man make.

“Davis, oh my, with the snow falling, you’re out here? Where is your lovely wife, I hope she didn’t come with you? Do you want some coffee or tea? Here, sit, sit, Hans add more wood to the fire so Davis can warm up.” Mae clucked at him while she took his hat and coat and laid them over a chair near the fire.

“Coffee sounds good,” Davis said. “I had to pick up a few things, which I thought I could do before the snow came, but it started sooner than I would have liked.” He rubbed his hands together.

“And Emma is home?” Mae asked as she put a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Yes. She didn’t feel too good today, so I’m glad now she didn’t come with the snow being so heavy already.”

“Oh my poor little missy. What’s wrong, that she doesn’t feel good?”

“She said she’s had a backache all night. Most likely from hanging curtains yesterday.” Davis blew on the coffee and took a sip of the steaming liquid.

“A backache?” Mae stared intently at him.

“Yes, that’s what she said, why? You look so serious.” A slight twinge of concern raced through him at the older woman’s reaction.

“And she had this backache how long?” she asked again in that serious voice.

“All night. I told her to lie down while I was gone, and not to hang any more curtains.” He put the cup down and watched Mae closely.

“Davis, not to worry you too much, but many times a woman’s labor starts as a backache.” She reached over and patted his hand, concern written on her face.

“But the baby’s not due until next month.” Now he was remembering how tired Emma looked even after a night’s sleep. Did she sleep at all? “What should I do?” He started to get up and reach for his coat and gloves. “Do you think I should get the doctor?”

Mae thought for a minute. “I’ll send Hans to Dr. Quigley’s house and see if he can go out to your place. I think you should go on home and make sure everything is all right with our little missy. Not to worry, Emma’s a young and healthy woman. Besides, it’s probably just a backache like she said.” Then she added, “But hurry, the snow’s getting worse and you need to get home.” She contradicted her earlier words.