Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1)

“Because he’s an idiot.” He grinned. “It’s not loaded right now. I just want you to get the feel before you fire it.” He put his arms around her, explaining how she should hold the gun against her shoulder so the kickback didn’t cause a bruise.

It took a few sessions before Davis actually let her fire the gun. Luckily, he stayed behind her the first time because the kickback would have knocked her off her feet if he hadn’t caught her.

Rubbing her shoulder, Emma glared at Davis. “Won’t hurt as much if it’s against my shoulder?”

He had the grace to look chagrined. “You’ll get used to it. It just takes time.”

Once past the Continental Divide, it took a little over a week before they reached Fort Bridger. Located in Utah Territory, the fort had been established by mountain man, Jim Bridger. It was another re-supply stop for the emigrants as well as the only place to purchase needed items for fur trappers.

Emma looked forward to the two-day rest. Then they would cross the Green River, but Davis told her there would be a ferry to take them over, which sounded safer.

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

“Emma, are you going to the supply store?” Elizabeth and Abigail Preston stopped by her wagon the morning after their arrival.

“Yes, and I’m almost ready. Davis gave me money this morning, and he’s already gone over. He wants to trade our oxen for fresh ones. I just want to look over what they have.” She laughed. “I can’t believe how excited I am to go to this little store.” After tying the ribbons under her bonnet, she joined the women.

“That’s flat out robbery!” Davis’s shout reached her before she even entered the small building.

“Maybe so, young man, but take it or leave it.” A large, round man with bushy whiskers common to the mountain men stood his ground, hands on hips, chewing tobacco as he glared at Davis.

Emma had never seen such a large man. As she watched him, he turned and spit on the floor. Then he moved the wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other. Dirt caked on his face and neck indicated he had not seen a bath in a long while. For as big as Davis was, with his height, broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs, he appeared dwarfed by this giant.

Davis took his hat off, and slapped it against his thigh. “All right, mister, I’ll pay your price. I can’t afford to work these tired animals anymore. Just write me out a bill of sale, and I’ll be on my way.”

The giant ambled over to the counter and took out a large book. Licking the end of his pencil, he began writing, concentrating hard on his chore. Emma reached Davis and tugged on his sleeve. “What was that all about?”

“This crook is giving me hardly anything for our oxen, and charging me a fortune for new ones.” He slammed the hat back on his head. “But we really have no choice. They’re badly foot worn, and I don’t think they’re going to make it the rest of the trip. The last thing I want is dead animals.”

“Here ya go, buddy.” The giant held a piece of paper out to Davis, who took it without as much as a curt nod. As he turned, he glanced down at Emma’s breasts and waist and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Maybe you better get some cloth to make bigger dresses, darlin’. Soon you’ll be busting out of that one.”

Blushing furiously, Emma nodded, and turned away. Davis chuckled as he left the store to find his new animals.

Emma was thrilled to be in an actual store. Besides restocking their food supplies, she found some perfumed soap and the necessary items to make two larger dresses. After paying for her purchases, and instructing the giant which wagon to deliver them to, she joined Abigail and Elizabeth.

The women looked pale as ghosts, and were clutching each other’s hands.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.

“We just overheard some of the men talking about problems with Indians. The Sioux and Cheyenne have attacked both travelers and natives alike to steal livestock and other supplies. Mr. Bridger even went with one wagon train through Bridger Pass recently, and was able to talk in sign language to some Ogallala Indians they ran into, which avoided problems.”

Both women looked terrified. Emma felt her stomach drop to her feet. Indians! She thought they were well away from any area where that would be a problem.

After saying a quick goodbye to the Preston women, Emma hurried over to her wagon. Davis was unhitching the cattle they had traveled with to bring over to the trading post. He sweated, cussed, and tugged on the beasts.

Wringing her hands, she approached him. “Davis, there’s Indians here.”

He stopped, wiped his forehead with his arm and leaned on one of the animals. “Yes, they’re right over beyond the supply store. They’re the Ute Indian wives and children of the mountain men.”

“No, no, I don’t mean them. I’ve seen them, and they seem all right. In fact, they have some beaded works for sale I’m going to look at later. I’m talking about hostile Indians. Abigail and Elizabeth overheard some of the men in the store talking about attacks on both emigrants and local people by the Sioux and Cheyenne. They steal livestock and supplies.”

Davis frowned. “I haven’t heard anything about that, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll check with Ezra to see what he knows.” He turned back to the animals and continued his work. “I have to get this settled first, and then we’ll both walk over and have a talk.”

Having already forgotten she was there, he started cussing the animals again, and still anxious, Emma went to get the clothes she needed to wash in one of the many creeks around the fort.

The rest of the day passed with washing, cooking and rearranging the wagon once again with the new supplies. One of the fiddle-playing emigrants suggested they have a party that night, which idea enthused both the travelers, and the mountain men and their Ute wives. Again everyone would contribute food, and those with musical instruments would provide the entertainment.

As the camp settled into the coming darkness, Emma washed her face, then re-braided her hair. Wanting to feel pretty, she chose a rose flowered dress with a wide rose sash that she’d taken the time to iron earlier. She grinned when she was barely able to fasten the buttons across her ever expanding breasts. As she tugged the two front parts of the dress together she decided to get busy on those bigger dresses first thing tomorrow.