The Fugitive Son (18 page)

The huge caravan moved slowly but steadily westward, stopping occasionally to send out a hunting party or for the men to fish for fresh meat when they came to a river with abundant wildlife. The women took advantage of these lulls in travel to wash their laundry along the stream banks and catch up on the current gossip.

All along the way, Elsie searched for signs that Isaac might have passed through. When they encountered freighters or stagecoaches heading east, she asked Captain Fancher to inquire if they had seen anyone fitting Isaac’s description. The answer was always no. What could have happened to him? Surely a man like Isaac wouldn’t just disappear off the face of the earth.

Despite her increasing concern for Isaac, Elsie allowed herself to be drawn into the life of the wagon train. As Cynthia had predicted, she became fast friends with Marion and Sally. Marion insisted on doing most of the driving, so Elsie spent many of her days walking beside the wagon with Sally. It was easy to see the love growing between Sally and Marion. Elsie hoped some day she would find someone with whom she could enjoy that same kind of deep friendship, trust, and respect.

Although Sally and Marion always made her feel welcome, Elsie sensed their need for moments of privacy. She’d frequently come up with a pretext to wander off to talk with Cynthia or some of the other women as the wagons inched their way across the never-ending prairie.

She found mornings were the best time of day to catch up with the mothers who took advantage of the morning coolness to bring their infants outside for fresh air. Elsie had always loved babies, and this group was full of them. On one such stroll, she struck up a friendship with Captain Fancher’s wife, Eliza, who invited Elsie to join her in her carriage. With its fine leather upholstery, it was much more comfortable than bouncing along in a wagon.

As they rode along, Eliza nursed her chubby daughter Triphenia while keeping a watchful eye on the five-year-old Kit who, with his playmates, was running alongside the slow-moving carriage. “We’ve been married twenty-one years and have ten children,” Eliza explained. “Seems like I’ve always been pregnant.

“But out of all of them, Kit is the most rambunctious I can remember. His curiosity is going to be the death of him,” Eliza said with a proud smile that belied her words. “And if this one is anything like her brother, I’m in for years of trouble!” She looked down lovingly at the baby who had just finished feeding. “Would you like to hold her?”

Elsie eagerly took Triphenia into her arms and cuddled her close. “But she’s so cute. You should have ten more just like her!”

“Bite your tongue, woman!” Eliza joked. “Alex and I don’t call Triphenia the tail end for nothing! I’m just looking forward to settling down in California and having a passel of grandchildren all around me to spoil.”

Occasionally, the routine of the slow journey was disrupted by the happy news of marriage bans, as another young couple invited the weary travelers to a wedding. Cynthia smirked when the first bans were read. Nudging Elsie, she boasted, “See, didn’t I tell you? These young bucks couldn’t travel all the way across the country without finding a sweetheart!”

The weddings were generally scheduled for Sunday afternoons, a time when the wagons were stilled and both stock and humans rested for the Sabbath. Charles Mitchell and Sarah Baker were the first to tie the knot. Then came the fateful day when Cynthia gloated as the bans were read: “Sally Poteet has agreed to wed Marion Tackitt on Sunday next following the morning service and the midday nooning.”

Elsie rushed over to hug her friend. “You didn’t tell me!” she chided. “You didn’t even hint!”

Sally laughed. “I didn’t make up my mind until just last night. Marion’s been begging me to marry him this whole trip, but I wanted to make sure he was the one.”

“One only has to see you two together to see that you’re made for each other,” Elsie chided playfully.

“We’ve been best friends ever since we were toddlers. Sometimes I feel that I love him more like a brother than a sweetheart,” Sally confessed. “And to leave my family and loved ones when they head for Texas and the Tackitts go on to California, I had to know Marion was worth it.” She grew wistful. “That’s going to be a sad parting for all of us.”

The upcoming wedding aroused considerable excitement. Cynthia used up some of her precious flour to bake an elegant wedding cake. Several of the seamstresses helped Sally’s mother sew a gorgeous gown of watered silk, a bolt of fabric that someone had thoughtfully brought along in hopes of just such an event.

Adorned with a crown of wild flowers, Sally’s golden sausage curls bounced in the light breeze. She carried a huge bouquet of matching flowers, picked fresh that morning. Standing up with her as maid of honor, Elsie was beautiful in a pink organdy dress and soft black kidskin shoes. She chose to wear her metal hoops and petticoats for the occasion, bowing to fashionable elegance rather than drab practicality.

Seaborn Tackitt – resplendent in a broadcloth suit, a shirt with a white collar, and a string necktie – belied his age, looking much more like a sophisticated businessman than an eighteen-year-old best man. Flirting with him in harmless fun, Elsie was thankful that Seaborn had agreed to spell his older brother as her wagon driver. It could make for an interesting few days, she thought.

When the wedding party had assembled in the center of the circled wagons, Reverend Pleasant began the traditional vows, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here, in the sight of God and this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony… Elsie let her mind wander momentarily. Would she ever be a bride? Did God have a match for her out in the wilds of New Mexico Territory?

The sound of sobbing brought her thoughts back to the ceremony. Sally’s mother, Matilda Poteet, seemed to be having a hard time dealing with the marriage that would likely take her youngest daughter away from her forever. Elsie realized that once the train split, Matilda might never see her beloved daughter again. This surely was a bittersweet moment for both mother and daughter.

Elsie smiled sympathetically as Cynthia put a motherly arm around Matilda. Her sobbing quieted, and the only sound other than the minister’s voice was the sighing of the breeze. Just as the sun dipped below the western horizon, Marion kissed his bride, and his brother pronounced them man and wife. With a wide grin, Marion hugged Sally.

“Welcome to the Tackitt clan, young lady!” the reverend said.

The crowd cheered, and the women hustled to serve the wedding meal, an assortment of fresh fish and game accompanied by whatever offerings the guests could dream up out of their fast-disappearing food supplies. While the celebration was at its height, the newlyweds slipped away to one of the Tackitt wagons, and mothers took their weary toddlers off to tuck them in for the night.

Elsie pretended to a gaiety she didn’t really feel. She was delighted for Sally’s happiness but immensely sad that she would be losing her new friend. For the rest of the way across Kansas, Sally would be occupied by her new husband, and rightly so. Of course, in just a fortnight or so, their paths would forever part company as Sally and Marion headed for California and she would go on her way to Santa Fe.

Ashamed of her selfish thoughts, Elsie looked toward the wagon that was to be the newlyweds’ first home. “Surely they represent all that is good and right in this world,” she thought. In a silent toast to the happy couple, she raised her coffee cup,
With all my heart, I wish you a lifetime of happiness.

The night before the train reached the Cimarron Cutoff, Captain Fancher called for a joint meeting of all the travelers. “We’ve been together for a long, long time,” he told the assembly. “I see many faces I’ve known since childhood, and many of you began your journey with us in Arkansas. Then there are the new friends who have joined us along the way. Tomorrow, we’ll part company. A number of you will head southwest while the rest of us will take the mountain route north.”

He looked around at the families gathered around him. “It’s been a successful trip so far, wearisome perhaps, but not unduly dangerous. But the danger is not over… for any of us. We continue to face many perils. Please continue to be diligent and watchful. And if we don’t meet again on this earth, we’ll enjoy a grand reunion in heaven!”

The captain then invited Reverend Pleasant to lead the group in the hymn, “Blest be the Tie that Binds.” Elsie heard sobbing and wiped away a few tears of her own as she bade farewell to people who had become close friends. Everyone was hugging and crying at the parting that was to come, not knowing what lay ahead for any of them but wishing their friends a safe trip.

When it was her turn to say goodbye, Elsie hugged Cynthia tightly and then embraced Sally in a lingering farewell. Sally at last pulled away. Elsie playfully punched Marion on the arm. “Sally’s become like a sister to me. See that you treat her well, big brother!”

The next day as one by one the wagons peeled off the trail to head either north or south, there were many more calls of farewell, many more tears, and yet more well wishes. “Be safe! Take care! Be sure to write when you get settled!” was called from wagon to wagon.

Elsie had chosen to ride in front with her new driver, one of the Poteet brothers. Her gaze followed her departing friends, who had accepted her into their family. As the last northbound wagon of the Fancher party disappeared beyond the horizon, she breathed a quick prayer,
Please, God, look after them and give them a safe journey.

The Cimarron Trail group had pulled into a circle at the junction, waiting until the last of the northbound travelers departed before reorganizing the company. A sadness permeated the entire train as they contemplated a future in a new home without many of their friends and neighbors from Arkansas. Elsie sighed deeply, realizing that she would have another difficult goodbye in the weeks ahead when these folks turned toward Texas and she set her mules toward Santa Fe. She quickly pushed the thought from her mind. One goodbye was all she could deal with right now.

With nothing to do but sit and enjoy the sagebrush and distant purple mountains, Elsie reflected on how short a time it had taken to become close friends with these fellow Southerners. Her musings quickly turned to prayer for their safety. The Fancher train had yet to cross the Rockies, which could be a treacherous journey. And the families still had to contend with the Ute and Cheyenne threats. Then they would be in Utah, replenishing their supplies for the tedious trip to California.

Once again in worry mode, Elsie thought about their huge herds of cattle and all the warnings she had heard about the impending Utah War.
They’ll have to find grazing and water, Lord, and that could be scarce this time of year, even without a war,
she prayed.
Please keep them safe as they head to their new lives in California.

Early September 1857
Great Salt Lake City

A
NDY GLANCED
up at the sky. Nothing was as beautiful as a late summer day in Utah. Clean, fresh air that smelled of pine trees and just a hint of wood smoke. Skies so big and blue it seemed he could see the whole universe. Purple mountain peaks that looked like they were holding up the huge canopy of sky.

He had heeded the prophet’s bidding as quickly as he could, hoping it was soon enough for whatever job Brother Brigham had in store for him. Despite his doubts, he would answer the prophet’s call. If he had learned nothing else in all these years as a loyal Saint, he had certainly learned his paramount duty was to “do his duty.” He grinned at his play on words. Pa had certainly driven that lesson home.

Chief Kanosh and his band had already left him, saying they had to meet with the prophet. What business did they have with Brother Brigham?
Probably something to do with Indian affairs,
he surmised. His assumption was confirmed when he saw his friends heading toward a large group of other Indian chiefs from central and southern Utah, especially when Jacob Hamblin stepped out from among the group. Brother Hamblin was the Indian agent for southern Utah, and his presence assured Andy that their meeting with the prophet was important.