A Dream for Tomorrow (23 page)

To her relief it was Eli. “Elizabeth,” he called out. “What are you doing heading into town again—and all by yourself?”

She quickly explained her dilemma. “It’s not my father’s fault. He didn’t want me to come alone. But I can’t just abandon Brady.”

“No, of course not. I’ll help you look for him.”

Exceedingly grateful for his company, Elizabeth held her head high as the two of them rode into town, Penny trailing slightly behind.

“You don’t think Brady decided to leave the wagon train, do you?” Eli asked her.

“No. I’m certain he didn’t.”

“He wasn’t hankering to become a gold miner?”

“I cannot even imagine that.”

Once in town, Eli took the lead, asking everyone they met on the street if they’d seen a Negro man passing through. Although some unkind jokes were made at Brady’s expense, no one seemed to have seen him. They went from one end of town to the other with no luck. Finally they stopped in the middle of town, trying to decide what to do next.

“We’re burning daylight,” Eli told her. “And don’t forget we still have a long ride to catch up with the train.”

“But how can I just leave him?”

“What about your children and your family, Elizabeth? If we don’t go back, you’ll be leaving them.” They were having this difficult conversation in front of the dance hall. Several ill-clad women were still loitering about in the late afternoon sunshine. One of them, a flashy-looking redhead, started to flirt with Eli, commenting on his fringed buckskins.

“Why don’t you come on inside and cool yourself off, cowboy,” she called up at him. “Come on down from that big horse and have a drink with me.”

Ignoring the loquacious redhead, Elizabeth turned to the sultry looking dark-haired woman next to her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said in a friendly tone. “Have you seen an old man—”

“What kind of old man are you looking for?” the redhead asked in a teasing tone. “We get all sorts in here. I’m sure I can find someone for you.”

“He’s a Negro man,” Elizabeth said in a stiff voice.

The dark-haired woman’s eyes glinted like she knew something, but she still kept quiet.

“You mean Brady?” the redhead asked.

“Yes!” Elizabeth said eagerly. “Have you seen him?”

The redhead jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the dance hall. “He’s in there.”

“Brady’s in
there?
” Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Eli, and he looked uncertain. But Elizabeth was already sliding out of the saddle, tying her reins to the hitching post.

“Your slave ain’t feeling too smart right now,” the redhead told her as she pushed open the door to the dance hall.

“He’s not my slave.” Elizabeth locked eyes with the woman. “He’s my employee.”

The redhead nodded with a curious expression. “Well, your
employee
got himself beat up good today.”

“Is he all right?”

Now Eli was coming inside.

“He’s back here.” The redhead pushed open another door, revealing a small windowless room with a narrow bed pushed against the wall with Brady lying on it with a bloody towel draped across his forehead.

“Brady!” Elizabeth rushed to his side. “Are you all right?”

He opened his eyes, and a slow smile of relief washed over his swollen face. “Miss Elizabeth,” he gasped. “Am I glad to see you.”

“What happened?” Eli asked as he joined them in the stuffy little room.

“Did someone in town do this to you?” Elizabeth demanded.

Brady’s smile evaporated. “No, ma’am. No one in town done this.”

“Who did it then?” Eli asked quietly.

Brady winced as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “I had just got my socks at the mercantile. Then I figgered I’d best get myself back to the wagon train.” He reached up to touch his bruised head. “I was just cutting down the alley when I saw a man from the wagon train…he came at me, swinging his fists, saying he’s gonna kill me. But that boy was with him…you know, the one I pulled from the river. Robert Stone’s his name. He yelled out, ‘Don’t kill him, Pa.” Brady looked confused. “Was that man Robert’s pa?”

Elizabeth looked at Eli. “Abner Stone,” she said.

He nodded.

“Brady,” Elizabeth said urgently. “Are you strong enough to travel?”

“Sure.” He reached for her hand and slowly stood, wavering a bit as if dizzy.

“Easy does it.” Eli came over to steady him.

“I brought my father’s horse for you,” she told him. “Do you think you can ride?”

“Sure, I can ride.” He smiled, revealing a broken front tooth. Probably the handiwork of Abner Stone. “Druther ride than walk.”

“Let me help you.” Eli wrapped an arm around Brady, guiding him to the door and out.

Now Elizabeth turned to the redheaded woman, who had been lurking by the door, watching them the whole time. “What do I owe you?” Elizabeth asked. “For caring for Brady like this.”

The woman waved her hand. “Nothing.”

“I don’t have any money on me right now,” Elizabeth admitted. “But I could send you something in the mail. At our next stop.”

“I said you owe me
nothing
.” The redhead rolled her eyes upward. “I was just trying to be a good neighbor to the poor old man. Wasn’t looking to get rich from it.”

Elizabeth went closer to her and, looking directly into her eyes, she reached for her hand. “Thank you, ma’am. You are truly a good Samaritan.”

The woman looked confused, pulling her hand away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know what a Samaritan is.”

“God bless you,” Elizabeth said as she walked through the dance hall, pausing at the front door. “God bless you for your kindness to a stranger.”

Now the woman laughed. “Well, now, that’s a new one.”

“Come on, Elizabeth,” Eli called from outside. “We’ll have to take it slow and easy for Brady’s sake. But we need to get moving if we’re going to catch up with the wagon train before dark.”

Chapter Fifteen

A
bner Stone and his family were removed from the wagon train in Fort Bridger. No one was sad to see them go. Elizabeth felt a little pity for Robert. But there was nothing they could do for the boy. Maybe he would learn an important life lesson from all this—maybe he would grow up into something vastly different from his dad. She prayed he would.

The going continued to be rough in these parts. There were numerous breakdowns on the rugged mountain trail and many a stream and river to cross. Teams and emigrants were pushed to their limits, and at the end of the traveling day, there was little energy left for anything more than wagon repairs, chores, and bed. And the next day they would get up and do it all over again.

Elizabeth knew they were in Blackfoot country now. She also knew that the Blackfoot tribe was in a peace treaty with the government. So when they passed by a tepee village one morning, she was more interested than concerned. As she rode Molly alongside the wagon train, looking out toward the village, she wondered what it would be like to live as they did. Would it really be that much different from how the emigrants were living right now? To her surprise, it looked intriguing…from a distance. However, she had no idea what it would be like if she were actually there. She supposed that Eli could tell her about that. But from her vantage point here, it seemed peaceful and orderly, and the idea of being stationary instead of constantly rolling along was highly appealing.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.”

She turned to see Eli riding his horse toward her. Because of the rumbling noise of the nearby wagon train, she hadn’t even heard him approaching. She waved and greeted him. “I was just thinking of you.”

A smile lit up his face. “Me?”

She pointed to the tepee village. “I was wondering what it would feel like to live like that.” She sighed, pulling the reins to stop Molly. “It looks so peaceful and calm from here.”

He chuckled as he stopped his horse next to her. “Well, it’s not so different from any other village where families live next to each other. You’d hear kids playing and letting out happy squeals. Dogs barking. Neighbor women arguing over who picked the last of the chokecherries.”

“Chokecherries?” She eyed him. “That doesn’t sound good. Are they poisonous?”

“No, they’re delicious.”

“Really? Why are they called chokecherries?”

He laughed. “I have no idea.” He untied a buckskin bag from his belt. “Hold out your hand,” he told her.

She held out her hand, and he poured a powdery-looking substance into it. “What is that?”

“Pemmican.”

“What is that?”

“Mostly it’s dried venison and bison that’s been ground into powder. But this pemmican is my own special recipe.” He pointed to some dark red flecks in her hand. “I added dried chokeberries to it. Go ahead, give it a try.”

“Just eat it?” she asked.

He nodded. “You wondered what it was like to be an Indian. Just eat it.”

So she dumped the powder from her palm into her mouth. It had an interesting taste—a mix of salty and sweet. “Not bad,” she told him.

“It’s saved my life more than once,” he said as he poured some into his own palm and ate it.

She looked back toward the tepee village. “Do you think you’ll ever live like that again, Eli? I mean with the Indians?”

“I don’t know…”

She turned back to him, watching as he gazed toward the village. “Do you miss it?”

“There were many things about the village that I will never miss. But I do miss my family.”

“Oh…” She tried to imagine him with his Indian wife and child. “How old would your son be now?”

“About the same age as JT.”

“Oh…” She wished she could think of something besides “oh” to say.

“I have to admit there are things about village living I do miss,” he continued.

“What sort of things?”

“I miss the comforts of family and community. I spend so much time traveling around the country that I sometimes stop and realize how I have no roots…nothing to keep me in one place.” He nodded back to the wagon train. “You folks are traveling too. But you have a strong feeling of community. Especially in your unit. And of course, you have your family with you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without that,” she confessed.

He pointed back to the Blackfoot village. “In some ways you’re more like the Indians than I am, Elizabeth.”

“How so?”

“They are very connected to the tribe. Everything in their lives surrounds family and community. To be exiled from the tribe is a fate worse than death.”

“Is that how you feel?” she asked him. “As if you are exiled?”

He smiled. “Not exactly. If anything this is my own doing. I have turned myself into an exile by choice. I always tell myself I can return to civilization anytime I want.” He looked into her eyes, almost as if searching for something. “I’m just not entirely sure if I want to.”

She felt her cheeks growing warm. “I wouldn’t be able to live like that,” she said quietly. “To travel endlessly, never having a home, never having neighbors or family nearby.” She shook her head. “Even now, I’m longing to end what feels like a never ending journey. I long to stop moving and to put down roots. I want to build a home, hang curtains in the windows, plant crops, raise animals…” She looked defiantly back at him. “I will not settle for less.”