Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1)

Then she remembered the night before, and groaning, grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Davis said as he eased the blanket down again.

“Please, I’m so embarrassed.” She rolled over, giving him her back.

Davis placed his hand on her shoulder and edged her back around, smoothing the loose hairs from her forehead. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Mrs. Cooper.”

“I acted like a harlot.” She moaned and covered her face with her hands.

Pulling her hands down, Davis looked at her, biting his lip, apparently trying hard not to laugh. “Ah, honey, don’t fret. That’s the best time I’ve had in years. You can be a harlot with me anytime you want.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek.

Suddenly she sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. “Oh my goodness.” She turned to him, her nakedness forgotten. “Suppose I hurt the baby last night?”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t have that much to drink. It’s just that you’re not used to it. You can speak with Dr. Bennett later

, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. But for safety sake, let’s not drink punch again until after the baby comes.” He gave her that lazy, lopsided grin. “Then you can have all the mountain men’s punch you want.”

Emma yanked the pillow out from behind her and swatted him in the head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group of emigrants now faced the worst part of the trip. Already tired after months on the road, they now had to deal with hot and dry end-of-the-summer days, with a burning sun beating down on them relentlessly. At least Davis and Emma had fresh oxen to pull the wagon down steep, narrow paths.

Emma saw Nate just about every day, but he hadn’t approached her since he spoke his intentions before they’d reached Fort Bridger. She still wasn’t sure what Nate hoped to accomplish. It was almost as if he thought she would just bounce from one husband to another with no thought. It was bad enough she’d been forced to marry again so soon after Peter’s death. But, in truth, she had to admit it appeared to be working out all right. She and Davis got along, and while she wasn’t sure he loved her, he seemed to care a great deal.

As for how she felt about him, she was still confused. Thinking again about last night, heat rose from her toes all the way to her hairline. She glanced at Davis, afraid he could read her thoughts, but he was staring straight ahead, his mind a million miles away. And Emma was afraid if she admitted she loved Davis, even to herself, there would be no hope of returning to Indiana. He’d already stated his case in that regard. He would not take her back home.

Enjoying the peace of the rocking wagon as she worked on the new dress and considered her future, Emma put down her sewing and glanced at her husband. “You know, we never got a chance to speak with Ezra about the Indian problem.”

“I saw him for a little bit this morning when I went to fetch the animals. He said he had heard the same things as the Preston ladies. He didn’t seem concerned, though. Apparently, one of the reasons Nate and his cohort are with us is to help with any Indian concerns.” He snorted at this last statement. “If we have to depend on those two nitwits who can’t seem to get out of each other’s way, all I can say is I’m glad I taught you to shoot.”

Emma had gotten to the point where she no longer jerked the trigger, but pulled it slowly. Now her shots were more accurate, and each day Davis moved her targets further back. As her skill improved her confidence grew, and it felt great.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davis glanced up sharply when the wagon in front of him slowed and eventually rolled to a stop.

“What the devil did we stop for?” He mumbled as he climbed down from the front seat. He followed several men heading toward the front of the line. His heart did a double thump at the sight of a band of mounted Indians talking to Ezra. Nate and the other corporal, rifles handy, had joined the group.

“Corporal, can you speak to these Indians?” Ezra addressed Nate as Davis walked up to the small group gathered in front of the first wagon.

Six Indians, dressed only in breechcloths and carrying spears, sat on their horses, facing Ezra and the two soldiers. The emigrants that had joined the group stood back a bit. Nate immediately began using sign language to communicate with the man who must have been the chief. He sat the biggest horse, stood in front of the rest of his group, and wore a headdress, while the others only had leather strips around their heads.

The chief signed back to Nate, who turned to Ezra. “The chief says too many white men come here. They kill the buffalo and disturb the earth. He wants to know if we’re staying or moving on.”

“Well, did you tell him we’re only passing through, Corporal?” Ezra licked his lips and glanced sideways at the group of Indians.

“I did.”

As soon as Nate finished speaking, the Indians climbed from their horses and headed down the length of the wagon train. Davis immediately jogged to his wagon. Emma still sat on the front wagon seat, holding her sewing with white knuckled hands.

“Why are those Indians here? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know for sure yet, honey. I don’t think anyone does.” He reached up for her and swung her down alongside him. “I think it best if you don’t say anything.”

The Indians poked their heads into the back of the wagons, rummaging through belongings. Some of them came out holding treasures they’d found. The chief remained in the front with the two soldiers and Ezra.

“Come on, let’s go up front with the others.” Davis urged Emma along.