The Scarlet Thread (29 page)

wagon and used part of the money to buy passage

on a steamboat. He says we’re going down the

Mississippi the end of this week and getting off at

Independence Landing.

I said—Good bye, James Farr. It was nice

knowing you.

He said—You are going with me if I have to

hog-tie and carry you! I told him he would have

to do just that. So he went out and got so drunk

Clovis had to fetch him home. Poor old Clovis

had to carry James home slung over his shoulder

like a sack of grain. I told Clovis he could dump

James in the potato cellar and leave him there

until he grows eyes and rots. He is not welcome

in my bed.

I reckon that is what Clovis did with him.

I can barely see this page for the tears. How

is it possible to hate a man I love so much?

Aunt Martha says God’s hand is in this. If that is

so, then I have a bone to pick with God. Not that

he will listen. Not that he ever did.

Aunt Martha and I sat all day today talking and

crying. I asked her if I and my children could stay

and live with her when James goes to Oregon.

She said no. She said she cannot come between a

man and his wife. She said God joined us together

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and she will not help me split the sheets. So I am

stuck with James Addison Farr and his dreams of

Oregon.

I should have married Thomas Atwood

Houghton.

Aunt Martha bought me a trunk. James is outfitting us in Independence. So for now, all I have is

a medicine box with Quinine, bluemass, opium,

laudanum, whiskey, hartshorn for snakebites and

citric acid to treat scurvy, books, slates, chalk,

and ink aplenty. I do not want my children growing up ignorant like their father. The ladies from

the quilting circle packed pieces of fabric in every

color and pattern imaginable so I can make my

own quilt someday. I have packed stout linen

thread, large needles, beeswax, buttons, paper of

pins and 2 thimbles and packed in a pretty candy

box Thomas gave me a long time ago.

If I had married Thomas I would not be going

to Oregon.

Pack three sets

1 linsey-woolsey dress

1 wool dress

unmentionables

4 pairs of woolen socks

2 pairs of walking shoes

1 good shawl

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comb, brush and 2 toothbrushes

Pack two sets

2 flannel overshirts

2 woolen undershirts

2 pairs thick cotton drawers

4 pairs of woolen socks

4 color handkerchiefs

2 pairs of walking shoes

1 pair of boots

1 gutta percha poncho

1 coat

comb, brush, 2 toothbrushes each

frying pan

kettle

coffee pot

pie tin

butter churn

2 saws

2 shovels

2 axes

3 belt knives

1 whetstone

1 rifle

1 pistol

ammunition

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James says he has the money to buy the rest of

what we need when we get to Independence.

I think it would be cheaper to buy supplies here,

but he said it would cost too dear to freight it

down the river. So we will go with what little we

have, which is not much.

Aunt Martha offered money to James, but he

would have none of it. I was not so proud.

I said Good Bye to Aunt Martha this morning. It

near broke my heart. It is breaking still as I sit on

this miserable shallow draft steamboat taking me

down the Mississippi away from her and Betsy

and Clovis and my home. Aunt Martha kissed

me and took off her cross necklace and put it on

me. It is the pretty one with amethyst stones I

admired when I first come to Galena after my

father cast me out. She has worn it every day of

her life since her papa give it to her on her fourteenth birthday. She said—I want you to have it

in memory of me. Let it remind you I am praying

for you every day. She said— God is with you,

Mary Kathryn Farr, and don’t you ever forget it.

I was not comforted.

I will never see them again. She says I will, but

she means heaven and I am not going there. I am

not going anywhere God is.

I got God and James Addison Farr to blame

for all this heartache.

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Papa. I said it was nothing for him to worry his

mind over, but he is worried all the same. I said

I was busy making sure Beth and Hank and the

twins do not fall overboard into the river. But he

said that is not so because Papa has Matthew and

Hank with him and the twins are asleep and Beth

is too scared of water to get close to the edge of

the boat.

He said—You will see Papa is right when we

get to Oregon. I told him if I heard those words

again, his papa will find himself in the muddy

Mississippi. And he can’t swim!

We got off the boat at Independence Landing two

days ago. It has been cloudy and cold. James

found a holding place for our possessions until we

have a wagon to store them. It is a good thing it is

not raining because we are camped without so

much as a tent over our heads.

Independence is the wildest place I have ever

seen. It is full of people from every walk of life,

most I would not want to venture down. I have

never seen so many people. Everyone is buying

and selling something. Everyone is in a hurry to

get ready to go to Oregon or California or

Santa Fe.

It is dusk and I can still hear hammers pounding as wagons are being built and oxen bellowing

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and horses neighing. It is impossible to get a wink

of sleep in this jumping off place.

James left me with the children so he can go

walking around the town square and—get a feel

for what is happening—as he put it. I am getting

feeling enough from sitting by and watching.

Most people hereabouts are as crazy as he is. The

men at least. I have not seen a happy woman

since we landed.

James talked all day to men camped near us with

their wives and children about whether it is wise

to buy oxen or mules. He came back and laid out

all he had learned and then said—What do you

think, Mary Kathryn?

He would not want to know what I think.

He said—You gotta talk to me sometime.

Not in this lifetime I don’t.

James bought 4 teams of oxen today at $25 an

ox! They are good sturdy animals and gentle, but

not worth that much. He should have bargained

harder. James said he will send me next time. He

said if things get bad on the trail, we can eat

them. I would like to know how he thinks he

could do that with Beth taking these beasts of

burden to her heart already.

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Wells are camped near us. She was washing

clothes in the creek same time I was. I am not the

only one weeping about going to Oregon. We

cried together and laughed some too. We both

had some fine ideas about what to do with our

husbands. She said she supposed we would have

to make the best of what comes. She has three

children all eager to go westering. Joshua and her

son Harlan are already fast friends.

Other people are gathering near us. Virgil

Boon for one. He is a cooper from Pennsylvania and up in years. He is at least forty if he

is a day. There is also Judge Skinner and his

wife. He is older still. Forty-three, he said. He

figures they will need Law and Order in Oregon. His wife is not friendly so I do not know

her name. Ruckel Buckeye is from Kentucky

and only fifteen. I asked him what his mother

thinks about him going off to Oregon by himself and he said she told him to go and make

a better life for himself out west. I cannot

imagine a mother telling her son to leave her

knowing she will never see him again. She

must be a hard woman.

It has been raining near every day. Our clothes

are as damp as my spirits. I must trek through

mud to get to the mercantile. James said he needs

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me to do an accounting or we will not have

money enough to make the journey.

He said—You’re going to have to help me

unless you want to live in this wild place for the

rest of your days, Mary Kathryn. He cant write

or read and there are men in this town that skin

you for the pure pleasure of it. He said we have

$854.22 to our names and it took him all the years

we worked the homestead to save that. Aunt

Martha gave me $120 that I have hidden in the

trunk for safe keeping and Dire Straits. I did not

tell him about it.

James brought Mister Kavanaugh to our campfire today. I saw this man two days ago in the

mercantile. Or rather he saw me. He was standing at the counter and buying powder, lead, and

shot when I come in with the children. He is a big

man and hard to miss. He looks wild as an Indian

in his buckskins. His hair is long and dark and

held back by a piece of rawhide. He was carrying

a Sharp’s buffalo rifle and had bluer eyes than

I have ever seen before and staring right at me

from the minute I walked in the door.

Joshua wanted to talk to him but I told him to

stay put by me and watch that Hank and Beth did

not stray. I turned my back for one minute and

next thing I knew Joshua took Hank and Beth

right up to him. I should have been paying better

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with MacDonald who is a thief and must be

watched. When I turned around again, there was

Joshua asking this rough stranger all manner of

questions and him looking at me with those blue

eyes of his. I shooed the children away from him,

apologized, and left quick as I could.

I knew I would see him again. I did not know

how or when. I just knew. How James met him

I don’t know and will not ask. I offered Mister

Kavanaugh supper and he accepted. James

did most of the talking while they ate. I did

not say anything. I listened and learned Mister

Kavanaugh has had commerce with the Kansa,

Pawnee, Cheyenne, and Sioux. He lived with the

Cheyenne two years. He has great respect for the

Indians and not much for those he has seen getting ready to head west. He said most are illprepared for what awaits them.

I said—Do you mean us, Mister Kavanaugh?

And he said—Depends.

On what I asked to know. He just looked at me

and did not say.

James and Wells and half a dozen other men are

meeting with John MacLeod tonight. A contract

will be drawn up and signed and fees set for

his hire. James said he Highly Recommends

Kavanaugh as a scout but doubts the man will

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