That same evening, after supper, Will came to Elizabeth’s camp and paid a visit to Mrs. Taylor in the back of Elizabeth’s wagon. He stayed for the best part of an hour. Elizabeth and Ruth were just finishing up the supper dishes when he finally emerged.
“How did that go?” she asked as she set a cast-iron skillet on the fire to dry.
“I’m not sure.” He glanced over his shoulder back toward the wagon. “She is a stubborn woman.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle over this. “But sometimes stubbornness is a good quality.”
“Sometimes.” His brow creased as he patted Ruth on the head. But Elizabeth sensed this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the presence of children.
“Thanks for your help,” she told Ruth. “Now you can go over to Uncle Matthew’s wagon and listen to the music if you like.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Will said. “I’ll bet that’s where my children are headed by now. We certainly have some fine musicians in our unit.”
After Ruth left, Will quietly told Elizabeth a bit about the conversation. “She feels like she’s reached the end of her rope,” he explained.
“What?”
“She wants to die.”
“Oh…” Elizabeth wasn’t very surprised.
“I got her to admit that she really has no one to go back to in the East.”
“I was worried that might be her situation.”
“And now she is afraid that she will be a burden to the mission in Fort Walla Walla.”
“I can understand that.” In fact, Elizabeth couldn’t help but think Mrs. Taylor was a burden right now. But she wouldn’t voice this aloud.
“I tried to make it clear to her that she is responsible for herself and her own well-being. And I told her it was impolite for her to continue taking unfair advantage of your hospitality. I told her that you have enough on your hands with your children and this trip without having an invalid to care for as well.”
“You said that?” Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth.
“I did.” He smiled. “Perhaps a bit more gently. But I wanted her to grasp the gravity of her actions…or rather, her inactions.”
“You actually called her an invalid?”
“Not in those words. But I told her that she needs to get up tomorrow. She needs to do some walking. She needs to help you and your mother with the chores. I told her that if she doesn’t do these things, she will most assuredly turn into an invalid. And you do not need an invalid on your hands.”
“No.” She grimly shook her head. “Not at all.”
“So it will be up to you, Elizabeth. Tomorrow morning, you must hold her accountable to these things. See that she gets up and gets dressed and gets outside. You will do her no favors by continuing to cater to her this way.”
“You’re right.” She nodded eagerly. “Thank you so much!”
“And I made her tell me her age.”
“Really?”
“I told her it would help me to assist her in the plan for her future.”
“How old is she?” Elizabeth whispered.
He chuckled. “How old do you think she is?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ve assumed she’s about ten years older than my mother. I’d say at least sixty. Maybe even sixty-five.”
He laughed. “She is forty-six.”
Elizabeth blinked. “Are you jesting?”
“Not at all. She told me her date of birth.”
“She’s younger than my mother.” Elizabeth couldn’t help but compare the two women. Her mother was so active and helpful and engaged. So unlike Mrs. Taylor.
“And I hate to admit it, but she’s not that much older than I am. I even pointed that out to her.”
Elizabeth just shook her head. “Well, I never…”
“To my way of thinking, the old girl should still have a lot of life left in her.”
“There you are, Dad!” Belinda came dancing into their campground. “We need more dancers for a reel.” Now she grabbed Elizabeth’s hand as well. “Come on, you two, this is our last night on this side of the river. We need to celebrate.”
And celebrate they did. Late into the night. Most of the people from their unit had gathered to enjoy the warm summer evening. Out of respect for Mrs. Taylor’s bereavement, they had relocated their evening sing-alongs from Asa’s camp to Matthew’s several days ago. And the past few nights they had tried to keep the noise level down. But Elizabeth felt certain Mrs. Taylor could hear their music and laughter tonight. And perhaps that was a good thing. Even if the sound of merrymaking enraged the pious old woman, who wasn’t that old, it might also help to shake her out of her mire of gloom and despair.
Elizabeth danced with her father and Will and young Jeremiah and several others. But the whole while, she found herself glancing over her shoulder, searching along the sidelines, hoping to spy a man in fringed buckskins. Often Eli had been lured to their campsite by the music. But he was nowhere to be seen tonight. Even so, Elizabeth was enjoying herself, and each time her thoughts strayed to Eli, she reprimanded herself.
“May I have your attention, folks,” Asa waved his hands, quieting the musicians. “As enjoyable as this is, I must insist this is the last dance. We all have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and it’s getting late. We all need a good night’s rest.”
Although the young people complained, Elizabeth knew they would comply, and for the last dance, the musicians played another reel. She wasn’t too surprised when Will asked her to dance. Still grateful for his help with Mrs. Taylor, and realizing how much she valued his friendship, she gladly agreed. They had just begun to dance when she noticed some of the young people pointing in their direction and laughing.
Elizabeth looked uneasily at Will, wondering why they had suddenly become such a spectacle. But then she realized that Will was staring over her shoulder with a shocked expression. She stopped dancing and turned in time to see a woman in a rumpled white nightgown with long gray hair flying behind her dancing wildly toward them with a crazed look in her eyes.
“What on earth!” Elizabeth gasped, unable to believe her eyes. “Mrs. Taylor?”
“It most certainly is.” Will looked on with amusement.
The musicians, oblivious to this new development, continued to play, and Mrs. Taylor continued to dance in a clumsy, uncontrolled sort of way.
“What do you think is in that bottle?” Will asked her.
Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth when she spied the amber bottle in Mrs. Taylor’s hand. Ruby’s whiskey! Was it possible Mrs. Taylor had drunk all of it? Letting go of Will’s hand, she rushed over to Mrs. Taylor, trying to put an arm around her, hoping to lead her back to the wagon.
“Lemme go,” Mrs. Taylor yelled at her as she pulled away. “I wanna dance with the rest of the heathens!”
“Let her dance!” one of the youths called.
“Yes, let her dance!” yelled another.
Elizabeth looked over at Will, hoping for help.
“Come on, Mrs. Taylor,” he began. “Let’s get you back to—”
“Dance with me!” she yelled. Then she tipped the bottle to her lips and, seeing that it was empty, gave it a toss that narrowly missed Asa’s head. By now the music had stopped, and everyone was staring at Mrs. Taylor as she held onto Will’s hand, demanding to dance with him.
“Strike up the band,” he called out. “Mrs. Taylor wants to dance.”
Matthew and the others couldn’t help laughing but once again began to play.
“What has gotten into her?” Asa asked as he and Clara came over to join Elizabeth.
“Ruby’s whiskey,” she quietly confessed.
“What?” Asa looked truly shocked.
“The doctor recommended it as medicine on the day Mr. Taylor died. But she hated the taste of it so much, I couldn’t get her to take it again. She must have found the bottle tonight.”
“Goodness! Was the bottle full?” Clara asked with concern.
Elizabeth just nodded. “Do you think it will hurt her?”
“Well, it doesn’t look like she’s hurting right now,” Asa chuckled.
“But if she drank all of it, Father, could it hurt her?”
He glanced over at the discarded bottle. “I don’t think so. However I suspect she will be feeling the effects in the morning.”
Elizabeth watched in disbelief and horror as Mrs. Taylor continued to dance all over the place, dragging poor Will along with her. The young people continued trying to do the reel but eventually gave up and simply watched, giggling among themselves.
“Mercy me!” Clara put a hand on her cheek. “I never would have believed this if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Mrs. Taylor…drunk as a skunk.”
“Since the old girl has a taste for moonshine, maybe we can convince her to travel with Ruby and Doris after all.” Asa winked at Elizabeth.
“Oh, Asa!” Clara just shook her head.
“I’m only jesting.” His eyes searched the crowd of onlookers. “I wonder what became of Ruby and Doris.”
“I believe they turned in,” Clara told him. “Which is what we should all be doing.”
“What I want to know is how much more of that moonshine Ruby is carrying.” He frowned. “I’ll talk to her in the morning.”
All Elizabeth wanted to know was how she was going to get this drunken old woman to settle down enough to stop dancing and go to bed. Thankfully as the song ended, Mrs. Taylor appeared to be running out of steam. And with the help of Will and Hugh and their sons, they all managed to get Mrs. Taylor back to Elizabeth’s wagon. The old woman’s head had barely touched the pillow before she fell deeply to sleep, where to Elizabeth’s dismay she snored loudly for most of the night.
Poor Mrs. Taylor had a bear of a headache in the morning. But Elizabeth showed her little mercy as she reminded her of their expectations for the day. “You must get yourself dressed and outside for a little walk, and then you can have some coffee,” she told her.
They didn’t see Mrs. Taylor until after breakfast was finished, and when Clara offered her some coffee, Mrs. Taylor held up a limp hand and slowly shook her head.
“Here.” Elizabeth handed Mrs. Taylor her washrag. “You can help my mother and Ruth finish up these dishes and pack up the kitchen gear. I have plenty of chores at my own camp to attend to now.” She turned to Ruth. “You stay here and keep helping Grandma. There’s much to do to get ready for the crossing.”
“Maybe Ruth would like to ride with us,” Clara offered.
Elizabeth glanced at Mrs. Taylor. “Unless Mrs. Taylor would care to.”
“I am fine to remain with you, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Taylor muttered as she washed a plate.
“All right then. Ruth, you ride with Grandma and Grandpa.” Elizabeth was relieved that Mrs. Taylor was cooperating with them this morning. She didn’t know how much Mrs. Taylor remembered from the previous night, but Elizabeth felt she should be made aware of her behavior. Perhaps it might even motivate the old woman to set aside her pride and judgment and begin interacting with her fellow travelers.
Elizabeth glanced at her mother. “I’m sure you and Ruth can fill Mrs. Taylor in on the activities last night.” She tried not to smirk. “I think she might find it enlightening.”
Ruth giggled and Clara just shook her head.
“Wha—what happened?” Mrs. Taylor asked in a shaky voice.
“Well, it’s bit of a long story,” Clara began.
“A funny story,” Ruth added with a twinkle in her eyes.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh as she walked over to her wagon. The image of Mrs. Taylor dancing in her nightgown would probably provide her with chuckles for years to come. She knew that her mother’s version of Mrs. Taylor’s embarrassing debacle would be told gently. And she could count on Ruth to be polite about it as well.
It was a relief to be able to move about in the back of her wagon without Mrs. Taylor’s imposing presence. She aired the bedding in the sunshine while she tended to organizing and packing and securing—readying her wagon for fording the river. It felt good to know they would be moving again and getting closer to their goal. The break had been somewhat welcome, but she knew that time was critical. They were more than halfway there, but the easy part of the journey was behind them. According to her father, the worst was yet to come.
“Getting ready for today’s crossing?”
She paused from shaking dust out of a blanket and smiled at her brother. “I’m working on it.”
“I just told JT and Brady to start getting your team ready. Eli just stopped by to tell Pa we’ll be the third unit crossing today, and the first unit is already halfway through.”
“So it’s going well?”
“So far. The river is still pretty high, but Eli said that’s in our favor. He said the key is to keep your team moving. Don’t stop, or you risk getting your wagon wheels stuck in the silt.”
She nodded as she folded the blanket. “How is Eli? I don’t think I’ve seen him for more than a week or so.”
Matthew eyed her curiously. “Does that mean you’ve been missing him?” His teasing tone reminded her of their childhood days.
“No.” She reached for another blanket. “I was simply curious.”
“Well, it seems he’s been scouting along the river, trying to find a better place for us to cross in case the rains didn’t let up. He also did some Indian scouting. And some hunting. Gave Ma another good buffalo roast.” He smacked his lips. “Supper will be good tonight.”
She gave the blanket a shake. “That’s nice.”
“Do you want me to tell Eli anything for you?” Again with the mocking tone.
“No thank you, Matthew.” She gave him a stiff smile and he just chuckled.
“Happy crossing, sis.”
“You too, Mattie.” She smirked at him. “Don’t be letting your bride fall out today.”
His grin faded some. “If need be, I’ll tie her into the seat next to me.”
Now Elizabeth laughed. “I have a feeling Jess would have something to say about that.” Their sparring was cut short by JT and Brady bringing the team over to hitch, and Elizabeth had to scurry to finish up her chores.
“Grandpa said I can ride Molly and help get the livestock across the river,” JT informed her.
Elizabeth frowned. “He did, did he?”
“Please, Ma. I know I can do it.”
She took in a slow breath. “JT, I’m sure you can do it.” She glanced at Brady, who seemed a bit uncertain too. “But I would prefer to have Brady handle the livestock today. He will ride Molly.”
“Yes’m.” Brady nodded with a relieved expression.
“But, Ma—”
“I need you to help me drive the wagon, JT. Uncle Matthew said it has to be done just right. I need a good driver at my side.”
JT brightened.
“I best go see to the animals,” Brady said. “Your Pa wants them to get across ahead of the wagons.”
“Yes.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Elizabeth did a quick check of her team and then asked JT to go and fetch Mrs. Taylor. “We need to load up and be ready to go.”
“Does she still have to ride with us?” he complained.
“JT.” She gave him a warning look.
“I know, I know. She’s a poor widow and we should be kind to her…” He wrinkled his nose. “But she smells funny.”
Elizabeth pulled off his felt hat and ruffled his hair. “JT! Even if that’s true, I don’t want to hear you saying anything disrespectful like that about your elders.”
“Sorry, Ma.” He looked down at his feet.
“And I don’t want you to say anything unkind about her…uh, her little escapade last night.”
“Escapade?” His brow creased.
“It means adventure…a jaunt…an exciting incident.”
He grinned. “Mrs. Taylor’s escapade. I might write about that in my journal tonight.”
She winked at him. “You won’t be the only one.”
Soon they were loaded and moving toward the river. To Elizabeth’s relief, Mrs. Taylor chose to ride in the back of the wagon. Elizabeth suspected she wanted to lie down, probably still recovering from last night’s antics. Because Father had rearranged the lineup, Elizabeth’s wagon was now following the Flanders’. Theirs was the lead wagon for their unit. She tried not to feel worried for their welfare, but it concerned her that with Bert and Flo and their five children, the wagon was heavy. And despite Bert’s attempts to strengthen the wagon, it wasn’t the same caliber as the wagons Elizabeth’s family had brought from Kentucky. She said a silent prayer for their safe crossing.
The river looked just as muddy as it had all week. However, it didn’t seem to be moving as rapidly today, and it had definitely receded some. The wagon crossing right now, the last one in unit four, didn’t seem to be having any trouble. But then it was a big sturdy-looking wagon with a strong team of oxen pulling. Even so, it was hard to watch. She knew that in the blink of an eye, something could go wrong.
Elizabeth tugged her driving gloves on tighter, redirecting her attention to a group of women and children, members of their wagon train who were drawing water from the river. She grimaced to see one of the mothers dipping a drinking cup into her bucket and allowing her little ones to drink that dirty water. Hopefully Elizabeth’s mother had been wrong about the rumors of cholera on this river. Just in case, she said a silent prayer for those children and the other families, praying that God would keep them healthy.
Now it was time for the Flanders to cross. “Let’s pray for them,” she said to JT. And together they said a quick prayer for the Flanders’ safety. Fortunately, Bert must have heard Eli’s advice and taken it seriously because he drove his team fast and hard, and they made it through without incident.
“Time for us to go.” JT pointed to Captain Brownlee, who was waving his hat at them—the sign to go.
She released the brake and snapped the reins. “Gid-up!” she shouted, snapping the reins again. “Let’s go! Gid-up!”
“Gid-up!” JT yelled, slapping his thigh. “Go!”
The team moved with speed and dependability just as she expected them to. Even so, both she and JT continued to shout encouragement—as if the sounds of their voices alone were getting this wagon across the muddy waters. She glanced at JT. “I’m glad you’re paying attention. Next time you might be driving.”
“Gid-up!” he yelled loudly, nodding.
After what seemed like an hour but was probably mere minutes, their wagon began to emerge from the river, water pouring from the team and the sides of the wagon. “Good job!” Elizabeth called to her animals. “Well done!” Now she handed the reins to JT. “You can drive from here.”
Proud to be in charge of the wagon, JT drove as if he’d been doing this for years, catching up to the Flanders and following them down a trail made muddy by the dripping wagons and teams ahead of them. “We’re on our way,” Elizabeth declared happily.