Westward Hearts (38 page)

“I know why,” JT said soberly.

“Why?” Elizabeth asked him.

“I heard Augustus Prescott saying that Will Bramford has set his cap for you, Ma.” JT frowned.

Elizabeth just laughed. “Oh, JT, that’s just silly wagon train gossip.”

JT didn’t look convinced.

“Grandma said she needs more kindling for the supper fire,” Ruth said. “But JT’s going fishing with Grandpa and Brady. And I’m not supposed to go out alone because of the Indians.”

“That’s true,” Elizabeth said a bit sadly. She knew that caution was a necessity right now, but she missed the freedom the children had enjoyed before. “What about Matthew?”

“He’s helping Jess with something, and then they’re going fishing too.”

“Then I guess it’s just you and me,” Elizabeth told Ruth. “But let’s hurry so we can get back and help Grandma with supper. And remember, we need to stay close to the wagons.”

They sang songs as they walked toward the river, where the best chances of finding small twigs and branches would be. Elizabeth tried to keep a watchful eye, but since a number of other emigrants were out getting water and wood or fishing, it seemed relatively safe. Besides, with the sun shining and birds singing, it was hard to imagine trouble could be about.

“Look, Mama.” Ruth pointed to some splotches of red and green downriver. “Strawberries!”

“Good eyes,” Elizabeth told her as they hurried over and began to pick.

“They’re nice and sweet too,” Ruth said with her mouth full.

Elizabeth sampled a big red berry and nodded. “Yes, but let’s not eat too many now. What a nice surprise for the others.” Seeing more plants, they continued a bit further down the river, eagerly gathering more and more berries.

“
Mama!
” Ruth hissed in a frightened tone. Still kneeling, she pointed toward a clump of willows not far from them.

Still squatting, Elizabeth turned to look and then took in a frightened breath as she spied a pair of tan moccasins through the greenery. Leaving her basket on the ground, she stood to her full height and moved protectively in front of Ruth as if she could shield her child with her skirt. What should she do?

“
Eli!
” Ruth exclaimed as she pushed past Elizabeth’s skirt and out into plain sight. “I thought you were an Indian!”

“Eli?” Elizabeth felt a rush of relief as their friend stepped out from the willows. “What are you doing out here?”

He chuckled. “I thought I was about to snare a rabbit for supper, but he just got away.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruth told him. “Did I scare him off?”

Eli tucked his snare back into his possibilities bag and shrugged. “I’m not really hankering after rabbit anyway.”

“We found strawberries.” Ruth held her basket out for him to see. “Go ahead and have some. Maybe they’ll make up for the rabbit.”

Eli plucked up a couple of her berries and popped them into his mouth. “Delicious,” he said. “Thank you, Ruth.” Now he looked around and frowned. “Did you know that you ladies have wandered a fair ways from the wagon? Did you forget the captain’s warning?”

Elizabeth nodded guiltily. “We were supposed to be gathering kindling, but I’m afraid we got caught up in berry picking and I lost track of our whereabouts. We’ll head back right now.” She put the basket over her arm and grasped Ruth’s hand. “My mother is probably wondering where her kitchen help has run off to.”

“I’ll walk you back to camp,” Eli told them.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be perfectly fine. We don’t want to trouble—”

“It’s no trouble.”

As they walked, he inquired about Matthew and Jessica’s impending wedding plans, and she confirmed that the rumor was true.

“You’ll come to the wedding celebration, won’t you?” Ruth asked hopefully. “Grandma is going to bake a cake, and I’m going to help get lots of flowers. And there will be music and dancing—a real party!”

He chuckled as Ruth continued. “And Grandpa is even going to roast Brownie.” Now her smile faded a bit.

Eli looked confused. “Who’s Brownie?”

“Brownie is one of our steers, although we don’t usually name them,” Elizabeth grimaced. “But Ruth is a farm girl.” She patted the top of her daughter’s bonnet. “She understands that some livestock are meant to feed people.” She pointed at Eli. “Like the rabbit you were trying to get.”

He nodded. “We eat to survive.”

“Even my chickens,” Elizabeth said a bit sadly. “They might not make it all the way to Oregon. Although I hope they do.”

“I hope they do too,” Ruth agreed.

“Anyway, Ruth is right. I know Matthew and Jessica would love to have you come to their wedding celebration,” Elizabeth assured him. “And the captain too.”

“Well, we always do enjoy a wagon train wedding,” Eli told her. “I’d be pleased to come.”

“And you can wear your buckskins,” Ruth told him. “It’s all right.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you, but I do have some white man clothes too.”

“You do?” Ruth seemed surprised.

“The buckskins are better suited for life on the trail,” he explained to her. “They’re comfortable in all kinds of weather, but they’re tough and protective too. It’s a hard habit to break.”

Suddenly Elizabeth was thinking of what he’d told them about living with the Crow. By now, after having considered it more than she planned to admit to anyone, she felt fairly certain that Eli had indeed been married to a Crow woman, that they’d had a child together, and that smallpox had taken both his wife and child from him. It just seemed to make sense. And although it was sad and she felt true empathy for Eli, it was also very disturbing to her.

To complicate matters further, she felt irked at herself for reacting like this. It seemed bigoted and small-minded on her part—like something Gertie Muller might do—but for some reason she couldn’t get past it. The idea of Eli with an Indian woman…being married, having a child, living like that for several years…well, it just made her extremely uneasy.

For the most part, she had been trying not to think about him anymore, at least not in a romantic sense. And she had been avoiding him. But now as he walked with them, chatting comfortably with her daughter, smiling easily, and pointing out a beautiful red cardinal for them to see…well, that only made it all the more difficult for her.

“I have a perfect idea,” Ruth said eagerly when they reached their camp. “Since I frightened Eli’s supper away, I am inviting Eli to eat with us tonight.” She looked hopefully at Clara as she handed her some kindling sticks. “Do you mind, Grandma?”

Clara peered into Elizabeth’s basket to see the strawberries and then grinned. “Not at all, seeing as how you come bearing gifts.”

B
etween the fabric that Elizabeth and Clara had brought with them and a few pieces from Ruby’s rather strange collection of dance hall dresses, a wedding gown for Jessica was slowly taking shape. And Elizabeth felt it was going to be truly beautiful when it was finished—if only they could finish it on time. Similar to the making of a patchwork quilt, she and Clara had asked the women from their unit to work on various parts of the dress, and except for Gertie Muller and Mrs. Taylor, everyone had happily agreed.

“I don’t know why you bothered asking those two,” Flo said when Elizabeth dropped off the bundle of fabric needed for Flo’s contribution.

“We felt it was right to include everyone,” Elizabeth explained. “And to be fair, Gertie wasn’t even terribly rude about it. She almost seemed to appreciate being asked. She simply admitted she wasn’t a good seamstress.”

“Well, that’s something.” Flo examined the fabric and lace in the bundle. “And what was Mrs. Taylor’s excuse? Surely she knows how to sew.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure she wanted to answer. However, she suspected that Mrs. Taylor would freely share her reasons with anyone interested in listening. “She told me that she doesn’t approve of the marriage.”

Flo frowned. “I’d wager that’s just because Mr. Taylor wasn’t asked to perform the wedding. Simple case of sour grapes.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Is that what folks are saying?”

Flo nodded as she wrapped the wedding dress fabric back up in the tea towel to keep it clean. “But I must say Bert and I were rightly relieved to hear that Captain Brownlee is officiating. I’m sure everyone will be glad about that. Well, everyone ’ceptin’ the Taylors.”

“The truth is, Mr. Taylor
was
asked to conduct the ceremony, but he didn’t approve of the marriage either. At least that’s what Mrs. Taylor said when she answered for her husband. I almost got the feeling he would have done the ceremony if she hadn’t intervened. Anyway, it’s of no matter now.”

“What is wrong with those people?” Flo shook her head. “Why on God’s green earth do they not approve of a sweet couple like Matthew and Jess getting hitched?”

Elizabeth sighed. “As you know, they have some preconceived notions about Jessica and her aunt. Apparently it didn’t help matters when they found out that young Jess wasn’t a boy but a girl. According to Mrs. Taylor, that was an abomination to womanhood and an insult to God. Both my mother and I have tried to talk sense into her, but she’s awfully stubborn. According to my father, the Taylors have even asked to be transferred from our unit.”

“I heard about that too. But I also heard it’s only because they want to hold a bigger church service with a different unit. They even asked the captain if they could hold a church service for the whole wagon train.”

“They did?” Elizabeth was surprised.

“That’s what I heard. I also heard that they want to take offerings.”

“Take offerings? On a wagon train?” Elizabeth looked at Flo in wonder. “How is it that you hear all these things?”

“That’s what one of the Schneider children said. Seems they went to one of the Taylors’ services.” She chuckled. “But only one.”

“I don’t know how you manage to hear all the wagon train gossip.” Elizabeth stood to leave. “But I do hope you take it with a grain of salt.”

Flo cupped her hand around one of her rather oversized ears. “God didn’t give me these big old flaps for nothing.” She laughed loudly. “And believe me, I know that gossip is like a hotcake—there are two sides to everything.”

“Well, we really appreciate your help with those sleeves. And Fiona is eager to work with you on the trim. She’s very good at tatting lace.”

Elizabeth continued making her deliveries, doling out the pieces that she and her mother had cut out during the past couple of evenings. Doris and Ruby were in charge of the skirt, which would have some intricate tucks to make it seem fuller at the bottom. Mrs. Schneider, who had actually worked as a seamstress for a lingerie company in Germany, was working on the bodice, which would have inlaid pieces of lace. The Bostonian ladies had offered to sew the petticoats, using pieces from Ruby’s trunk. And Flo and Fiona would complete the large puffed sleeves. When all the pieces were finished, it would be up to Clara and Elizabeth to assemble them together in time for the wedding.

As some of the women and girls walked into Fort Laramie together, they discussed the progress of their community project.

“Fiona’s tatted lace is so delicate and lovely,” Flo reported. “But her fine stitches make mine look like Tillie stitched it. Fiona even offered to tear mine out and redo them.”

“Surely that’s not necessary,” Elizabeth told her.

“The petticoat is turning out to be rather fluffy,” Lavinia told them. “The girls insisted on adding more layers.”

“Trust us, it’ll be very elegant with the full skirt over it,” Evelyn assured Elizabeth.

“I hope the gown won’t look like patchwork when we’re done,” Clara said with concern.

“Don’t worry,” Ruby told her. “Jess keeps telling us she’d marry Matthew in a potato sack if need be.”

“I’m sure it’ll be much nicer than that.” Elizabeth looked at the settlement before them. Like Fort Kearney, there was no actual wall or fence around the fort, just lots of adobe and wooden structures. And lots of people. “Looks like a busy day here.”

“Asa told me there have been three wagon trains through here in just the past few days,” Clara said. “Now if only I can find a few eggs, I might be able to make a real wedding cake next week.”

“Well, Mother, if anyone can find eggs here, I’d put my money on you.” The group of females paused now, everyone deciding which way to go. People and animals were everywhere—emigrants, Indians, soldiers, livestock…Unless Elizabeth was mistaken, this place was even busier than Fort Kearney.

Clara put a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “And you and Ruth are going to look for what I suggested?”

“That’s our intention,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Although I’m not feeling terribly hopeful. Especially considering how busy it is here.” Her mother had asked her to be on the lookout for bedding of any kind. She thought it would make a good wedding present from the family, especially since she was worried that Jessica might not cotton to sleeping in a hammock beneath the wagon.

But after an hour of searching several places in Fort Laramie, and after purchasing only one Hudson Bay blanket—with some moth holes in it at that—Elizabeth was inclined to give up. However, she had already set a few pieces of bedding aside, things she planned to give to the newlyweds. “Let’s go to the post office,” she told Ruth as they made their way through a group of trappers congregated on the street. “I want to see if your Aunt Malinda has written me back.”