Under the Distant Sky (13 page)

Hannah and the children were at the store on Tuesday morning when Ezra Comstock brought the four young men who would drive their wagons. The oldest was twenty-six-year-old Tony Cuzak. The others, Perry Norwood, Bob Lander, and Buck Mylan, ranged in age from nineteen to twenty-three.

While Hannah helped Randy at the store, Solomon and his drivers picked up the oxen and wagons and brought them back to load the food and supplies. Then the drivers took the wagons to Courthouse Square.

The people in Ezra’s wagon train gathered in Independence Square that night after supper. When the Cooper buckboard pulled up, Solomon’s drivers were standing near the fire. The young men waved and called out a special greeting to little Patty Ruth.

When everyone had gathered in a circle around the fire, Ezra asked all the men to introduce themselves and their families and say where they were from.

There were four wagons that carried only men, and they were all in the Cuzak family. Walt Cuzak, from Scranton, Pennsylvania, introduced himself and pointed out his sons, Frank, Gordon, Dwight, Edmund, and Tony. He bragged that he and his boys were going to dig gold in California and get rich, and woe to anybody who got in their way.

Solomon and Hannah heard a man behind them whisper, “I’m from Scranton, too. The four older brothers are just like the old man. Tony’s the only decent one.”

When everyone had been introduced, Ezra ran his gaze over the crowd. “Now, folks, you all know that when we pull out of here tomorrow morning, we’ll be heading northwest
across Kansas toward Nebraska. This is the beginning of the rainy season. There’s no doubt we’ll encounter some heavy rainstorms. Most of the time, I’ll be riding my horse back and forth along the train. When the storms get real bad, I’ll call for the wagons to make a circle and wait it out.

“I’m glad to see that most of you have done as I suggested and hooked your wagons to mule or oxen teams.”

Walt Cuzak’s four wagons were the only horse-drawn wagons. He stepped away from his sons and came within a few feet of Comstock almost as if to challenge him. “Since I’m the only one with horses pullin’ my wagons, does that make for a problem, Ezra? I mean, it was only a suggestion that we use oxen or mules. I don’t like oxen, and I don’t like mules.”

Ezra looked back at him steadily and said, “Horses have proven to wear out sooner than oxen or mules, Walt. But I leave the choice to the wagon owners. The biggest problem is that Indians like to eat the big draft horses. Lots of meat, you see. So they’re more likely to attack wagon trains and wipe them out to get their hands on horses in the harness.”

“Well,” Cuzak said, “since there will only be four wagons out of twenty-one pulled by horses, I doubt any of those savages would chance attacking our train.”

“Let’s hope not,” Ezra said. “There is one other problem. Like I said, we’re going to have some storms. If they’re severe, I’ll call for the wagons to make a circle. We’ve got to keep the animals in control when lightning is popping all around us. The mules sometimes will panic and bolt… the oxen never. But horses are especially skittish. If they’re not controlled, they’ll bolt. If we stay in a circle, with the horses’ faces against the wagon in front of them, it will usually keep them in check.

“I must also caution those of you with saddle horses. When I call for a circle, place your saddle horses inside the circle. There’s no place for them to run if the circle is tight.”

The fire was dying down and Ezra looked toward the
edge of the group. “Micah, how about throwing some more wood on the fire?”

A clean-cut young man picked up some wood from a small pile behind him and carried it to the fire.

“Folks,” the wagon master said, “for those of you who haven’t met him, this is my nephew, Micah Comstock. Micah drives my wagon on all my trips.”

Sparks flew up toward the star-bedecked sky as Micah tossed wood on the fire.

Ezra waited for a moment and then continued to speak. “Now, folks, I noticed that some of you flinched when I mentioned Indians. Ordinarily a train the size of ours has too much firepower for the hostiles. I can’t guarantee it, of course, but our chances are good that we won’t have any trouble with them. Which brings to mind what I put in the brochure about firearms. As far as I can see, every man here except my friend Solomon Cooper is wearing a sidearm.”

“I’ll have mine on in the morning, Ezra,” Solomon said.

Ezra explained that he wanted every wagon to have at least one rifle for every adult, and plenty of ammunition. They would use the rifles to shoot game… and if Indians attacked.

Everyone in the train had to obey his orders without question. It was for their own good. And if any wagon got into trouble while crossing streams, or had any other kind of problem, everyone would pitch in to help. There must be absolute cooperation among the people at all times.

Anyone who deliberately broke the rules would be put out of the train and left to fend for themselves. Ezra then opened up the discussion for questions. In a few minutes he dismissed the meeting and reminded everyone that the train would pull out two hours after sunrise.

Ray and Betty Wilson were waiting when the Coopers arrived at the store. Solomon had told them he would bring the family by after the meeting at the Square and officially turn over the store to them.

When the Cooper buckboard pulled up, they saw that Ray had already put up a new sign across the store front:

Hannah felt a lump rise in her throat as she greeted the Wilsons and entered the store for the last time. She casually drifted away from the rest of the family and walked between the stacks of shelves. A shadow of doubt started to descend. No! she told herself. You know you’re doing the right thing.

She moved past the old pot-bellied stove and looked toward the rear of the store, letting memories flood her mind. Although she felt a deep ache in her heart at leaving these familiar surroundings, there was also a mysterious feeling of peace and excitement at doing God’s will and starting this new adventure.

Hannah was wide awake at the crack of dawn. She slipped into her robe and left the bedroom, taking care not to awaken Solomon.

She felt the same way she had felt last night at the store, only worse. This was her home. They were leaving all of the furniture behind for the Donaldsons. A prairie schooner couldn’t hold much more than a few boxes of clothing, some personal items, bedding, and food.

Hannah descended the stairs and went from room to room, gazing at every wall and piece of furniture. In the dining
room, she lovingly caressed the long table, the backs of the chairs, and the beautiful glass-encased china hutch. Her fine china was packed and already in the covered wagon. She remembered the day Solomon brought the entire dining set home as a surprise.

In the parlor, Hannah touched each piece of furniture and wall tapestry. A hot lump rose in her throat when she approached her grandmother’s piano—her most treasured heirloom. She knew Solomon would have bought more wagons to take the piano to Wyoming, along with her furniture, but the journey would have been too hard on them. They probably wouldn’t have survived all the way to Fort Bridger.

Solomon had bought this house when they became engaged. Hannah turned slowly and looked at the staircase, recalling how Solomon had carried her up the stairs on their wedding night.

All of her children, except B. J., had been born in this house. It had always been such a happy place, filled with laughter and joy. Now she must leave the farm behind. A flood of sorrow washed over Hannah and she began to sob.

Suddenly two strong hands took her by the waist and Solomon’s voice said, “Darling, are you all right?”

Hannah pivoted and threw her arms around his neck. She drew a shuddering breath, and sobbed all the more.

“We can still back out of this deal,” he said tenderly. “I can send a wire and tell Colonel Bateman we changed our minds.”

“No… no! I’ll be all right. It’s just… this house… this place has been my life for so long. When we left it during the War, I knew we’d be coming back. But this time…”

Solomon held her until the sobs turned to little shudders and her body began to relax.

Just as the Coopers finished breakfast, friends from church, and neighbors from all directions began arriving to say good-bye. Between their arrivals, Solomon and the boys carried the last boxes to the covered wagon.

The wagon was almost totally loaded when the Singletons drove into the yard. They were still somewhat cool toward Hannah and Solomon, but they cried as they embraced their grandchildren.

Hannah asked her mother if she would write. Esther’s expression softened and she nodded yes. The Singletons hugged and kissed Hannah last, then climbed into their buggy and drove away.

Hannah knew it was possible she had just seen her parents for the last time. A powerful wave of emotion churned inside her, trying to force its way up through her throat and out her mouth. Suddenly an unseen Hand seemed to reach into her heart and calm the storm.

Pastor Chase and his family waved to the Singleton buggy as they passed it and pulled into the yard. There was a deep bond between the Coopers and the Chases, and emotions ran high as they spoke their parting words.

Before the Chases left, Pastor Chase gathered everyone into a circle for prayer. Patty Ruth happened to be standing between Mary Beth and B. J. It was bad enough that she had to lay Ulysses down to free both hands. Now she had to put her hand in B. J.’s! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him wash!

Solomon noticed the break in the circle and said, “All right, you two. We’re all holding hands while the pastor prays.”

Patty Ruth curled her lip. “I don’t want to hold B. J.’s hand, Papa. It’s dirty.” When she saw the stern look in her papa’s eyes, she reluctantly slipped her fingers into B. J.’s hand.

“All right, Pastor,” Solomon said.

When he could see no one was looking at them, B. J. whispered, “It oughtta be me refusing to hold your hand, Patty Ruth. You’ve got a wart on your finger!”

Patty Ruth squeezed his fingers as hard as she could.

B. J. jerked, trying to free himself from her grasp, but Patty Ruth had a firm grip. When the prayer was finished, B J. whispered, “I’ll get you for that!”

Patty Ruth smiled sweetly and wiped her hand on her dress, then picked up Ulysses.

The Cooper wagon rolled out of the yard with Hannah at the reins and Chris and Solomon on saddle horses. Hannah gave the house one last look, then urged the oxen forward. Mary Beth sat beside her mother, holding an excited Biggie, and Patty Ruth held her best friend. To her, Ulysses seemed excited, too. B. J. rode in the back.

When they arrived at the Square, Hannah’s attention was drawn immediately to Ezra Comstock astride his horse, calling for everyone to make ready. They would pull out in exactly twenty minutes.

The Coopers’ personal wagon was ninth in line behind Ezra’s lead wagon, which was driven by Micah Comstock. The four supply wagons were directly behind the Cooper wagon. When the wagon was in place, Hannah and the children climbed down. They mingled with the others in the wagon train for a few minutes, then Ezra called for everyone to get ready to move out.

Mary Beth helped Patty Ruth and Ulysses onto the wagon seat while B. J. climbed in from the rear with Biggie licking his face.

Chris came trotting up on his horse, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Solomon smiled at Hannah. “I’ll tie Nipper to the back of the wagon, honey, then help you up.”

“Sol, are you going to start right out walking alongside the wagon?”

“Sure. That’s what most of the husbands in the train are doing.”

“But…your leg…”

“I’ll get in the saddle when it starts to bother me.”

The early morning light danced on Hannah’s dark-brown hair, giving it a coppery sheen. She flashed Solomon a smile as he took her hand and led her a few steps from the wagon to a spot where they could see the western horizon. “Out there, Hannah,” he said, “under the distant sky, is our new home and our new life.”