Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1)

About a week after the Great Platte river crossing, Emma awoke from her nap and realized she missed the swaying of the wagon and the rattling of the pots and pans. She swatted at an annoying fly buzzing around her head and sat up. Moving the canvas aside, the sight of the most beautiful river, deep blue with sunlight causing diamond-like sparkles to blink and shine, greeted her. They had reached the Sweetwater, and the emigrants quickly left wagons and animals behind as they raced toward the cooling water.

Leaning on the back rail of the wagon, Davis looked in and grinned. “Darlin’, you’re gonna miss the bath you’ve been troubling me about if you don’t get out of that wagon.”

“I’m not going to miss anything, mister. You better get out of my way before I run you down.” Emma laughed as she gathered up her soap, a drying cloth, and fresh clothes.

The emigrants soon invaded the crystal clear water. The women and children took the north side of the river, and the men, after taking care of the animals, took the south side. The stop didn’t include any extra days, since they would be following the river for a while until they passed the Continental Divide at South Pass.

Emma washed the dust and sweat off, and then dunked her head to shampoo her long curly hair. It felt so good to be clean again. All around her, women wrestled with children who liked the idea of being in the water, but could very well do without the soap. Small boys yowled as mothers scrubbed dirt from behind their necks and in their ears.

The happy shouting and laughter vibrated off the mountain walls as the sun began its descent. Feeling chilled, Emma left the water, dried off and put on clean drawers, chemise and a dress. Gathering up her dirty clothes, she headed back to the wagon. She arrived before Davis, so she sat by the fire he must have started and combed and dried her hair.

Mountain air was much cooler in the evenings, and even though it was mid-summer, Emma tugged a wrap snuggly around her shoulders, and pulled out the ingredients to mix a batch of biscuits. Humming softly, she stirred the beans as she gazed at the beautiful sunset.

The sound of footsteps drew her out of her musings, and she looked up to see Nathan walking toward her. She hadn’t spoken to him since Davis had ordered him out of the wagon. He walked as if he still had his bandages on.

“Evening, Emma.” Nate tugged on the brim of his hat and smiled.

“Evening, Nate.” She glanced around but didn’t see Davis anywhere. “How’s your wound doing?”

“Coming along. Dr. Bennett taped up my ribs, so I’m able to ride. Getting on and off the horse is a bit tricky, but I’m managing. Where’s Davis?”

“Off with the other men taking a bath. It felt so good to wash all the trail dust off. Were you able to get into the river yourself?” She continued to fuss with the supper, glancing up at Nate every once in a while.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. It felt great.” He paused as if working up his nerve to speak. “Emma, I want to apologize for what happened in your wagon. I had no right to abuse your husband’s hospitality like that. I hope it didn’t cause you problems.” He had taken off his hat and worked his hands around the brim as he spoke.

“No,” she said, “we handled it.”

“One more thing I want to say before I go.” He cleared his throat and continued, “I meant what I said that day. You most likely can get an annulment because you were pressured into this. I can check it out for you when we get to Oregon City.”

He held both hands up in surrender, and walked backwards as she started to speak. “Don’t say anything now. I just want you to think about it. Just, ah, think about it.” Putting his hat back on his head, he pivoted and disappeared into the darkness.

Emma and Davis took advantage of their clean bodies to explore each other once they settled in for the night in the wagon. Cool air blew through the wagon, thanks to Davis having tied up the canvas part of the way.

Emma lay on her side, Davis at her back in spoon fashion. Even though she could hear the steady breathing of a deep sleep, he still had his arm wrapped around her, with his hand cupping her breast. She put her hand on the tiny bump in her belly and smiled.

The conversation with Nate bothered her. He seemed determined to undermine her relationship with Davis. But what, exactly, was that relationship? She liked Davis, a lot. She had a great deal of respect for him, and knew she could count on him to take care of her.

But did she feel anything deeper than that? She tried to compare her feelings with those she had for Peter, but lately it was hard to remember anything about Peter. Did Davis feel anything more than friendship and companionship for her? He whispered tender, caring words in her ear when they made love, but did that really mean anything?

Yawning, she decided to think about it all tomorrow. They still had a ways to go before they reached Oregon. All her plans to return to Indiana would have to be put aside with the baby coming. No way on earth was she going to give birth in a wagon traveling east.

Chapter Fifteen

As a student, Emma enjoyed geography more than any other subject. Since she’d expected to spend her entire life in her little corner of Indiana, it was nice to read about other places. The one spot that fascinated her the most was the Continental Divide. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would get to see it. But now they headed directly for it. Her teacher had explained all the rivers on one side of the Divide flowed east to the Atlantic Ocean, and the others west to the Pacific Ocean.

Around two o’clock in the afternoon the wagon train reached the Divide. Emma was relieved to find how easy it was to cross, nothing like she feared. In fact, if Davis hadn’t pointed it out to her, she might have missed it.

She was happy thing

s between them had resorted back to the easy way they were before the Great Platte crossing debacle.

True to his word, the day after the crossing Davis made Emma start practicing with his gun. Every day at the noon break, and then for a while after supper, he lined up rocks, that grew progressively smaller, on which she could practice.

“Now, darlin’, this is a double-barreled shotgun,” he’d explained the first time he took her out. “It has two parallel barrels, which allows two shots to be fired in rapid succession.” He turned the gun over. “You’ll notice it has two triggers, one for each barrel.” He handed the weapon to Emma, which she held like it would bite her.

“It’s all right. As long as you handle it carefully, it’s very safe.”

“Then why did Nate get accidentally shot?”