Chapter Four

KAW AND BIG BLUE

THE NEXT MORNING DIDN’T GO smoothly. Jacob got up, started the fire, and put on the coffee and biscuits. He left Lucille with instructions to fry some bacon and then three eggs, while he went for the team and brought up the cow to milk. She’d allowed the bacon grease to get too hot and it popped out on her hand. She had fried the eggs too early, and they were cold before he got back. In the meantime, the biscuits had overcooked and were hard on the bottom, but they ate it all anyway. He had planned to have Lucille wash the dishes while he hitched the team, but since she’d burned her hand, he did them. He barely finished in time to pull his wagon into line.

They were in the middle of the first division of wagons today. Each day the last wagon from the day before would move to the head of the train. In that way, everyone would eventually take every position. Since the back of the line got much more dust, everyone preferred to be near the front.

The trail had begun to get rough, as the wagons rolled and jolted over rocks and ruts, but at least they had a semblance of a road if you could call it that. Jacob didn’t think it would last much longer, though. Many of the women and children were already walking to keep from being bounced and bruised.

“If you’d rather walk, it might be easier,” Jacob told Lucille.

“If you think I’m going to walk two thousand miles, you’re crazy. Besides, my shoes would be gone in a day.”

“I bought you a practical pair of shoes in Independence. They’re in the back of the wagon under your cot if you want to get them. I knew you’d need some before we got to Oregon.”

She thought a minute, rose without saying a word, and went into the wagon. She returned wearing the new shoes. He stopped the wagon and helped her down. She trod along beside the wagon. Jacob wanted to talk with her, but the noise from the wagons and the distance made a conversation impractical, if not impossible.

He liked watching her, though. He liked her walking beside him, and he wished it signified her willingness to walk beside him and support him through everything life brought their way.

She looked up at him, and he smiled at her. She turned her face away.

He let his thoughts drift. Last night had not been the reconciliation for which he’d longed. Once he settled in beside her on the cot and pulled her into his arms, she stiffened up again and grew unresponsive. His kisses met unyielding, cold lips. She didn’t refuse him, but she didn’t give anything. Was it him? Was he doing something wrong? Were they always going to be mismatched? He kept trying to give his best, but she didn’t seem to reciprocate. She didn’t even appear to put forth any effort to make their marriage work. Lord, help me. I can’t do this without some cooperation from her. Show me what to do. Help us to communicate better.

 

“I can’t walk another step,” Lucille said at the nooning. She did look exhausted. “It’s going to take a while to get these new shoes broke in.”

“Maybe you can try lying on the cot for a while. It may still be way too bumpy, but the padding may make it less bruising. You could give it a try.”

“I guess.” She swatted a strand of hair that had come loose.

 

Lucille stayed in the wagon for about three hours. She got down and walked again for a couple of hours before they stopped for the night. She looked tired, but she stood ready to help with supper. They ate beans left over from the night before, and Jacob cut two slices from the ham and Lucille fried them, and he made biscuits again. He placed them farther out from the flames and told Lucille to turn the spider half-a turn in about fifteen minutes. They came out better than before.

They ate, cleaned up, and went to bed. Jacob slept under the wagon. He felt too tired to pitch the tent, and he’d have guard duty tomorrow. Driving the team and doing most of the chores had worn him down. He would have to come up with another way to get everything done. He fell asleep before he had time to think about it.

The next day went pretty much the same, except Jacob walked beside the wagon, too, while he drove the team of oxen. He saw that most of the men with oxen walked beside their animals, and Jacob’s were docile animals and easy to drive. They didn’t require reins like the mules, but they were directed with a whip. Jacob found he didn’t need to use the whip on his. They’d been well trained and only needed a touch, but usually, they didn’t even require that. They seemed to know their job and followed the wagon ahead of them.

He found walking to be smoother than being on the swaying, bumping, jolting wagon seat. He would also be one less thing the team would have to pull.

They ate a cold meal of leftover ham and biscuits at the nooning, and Jacob asked around about getting some help. He learned the Agner brothers were traveling by themselves to California. He asked them, and they agreed to milk his cow mornings and evenings and to take his oxen to water before turning them out to pasture for the night. In return, they would take half the milk. They seemed happy with the arrangement since they didn’t have a cow.

The days continued in a monotonous routine. They rose early, just as the light began to nudge out the darkness. Jacob continued to help Lucille fix breakfast, but she had learned to make some things. She could now cook pancakes or make porridge. Biscuits would come later.

They usually ate leftovers from either breakfast or supper the night before at the noon stop. Lucille could now make beans or a meat stew for supper, and she’d just learned to make cornbread.

He would have liked to have one of the women show Lucille how to cook. They would have known more than he did, but Lucille had refused. She hadn’t made any friends, and it embarrassed her to let the other women see her ineptness. So, they struggled along as best they could, more like the blind leading the blind. He’d never done much cooking himself, but he planned to teach her as much as he could. By the time he taught her what little he knew, he hoped she would feel competent enough to allow one of the women, maybe Lena, to show her more. That way, she’d be proficient by the time they got their land in Oregon.

If Lucille hadn’t wanted them to keep mostly to themselves, they could have joined with some of the others after supper. Several of the families told endless stories, almost as if they tried to fill the emptiness of the prairie with their tales.

He sent Lucille with the women to the stream Saturday afternoon to do their laundry. He stayed at the campsite to take care of the cooking. The women decided to wash the bulk of their dirty clothes every Saturday evening, so they could dry on Sunday, the lay-by day. Of course, they might wash a few pieces along in between if they needed them.

The council had decided to rest most Sundays, the Lord’s Day. The teams and the people could use a day of rest. A preacher moving his family to Oregon would hold services mid-morning for those who wanted to attend.

“I don’t know how to do laundry,” Lucille protested.

“Just take some soap and our dirty clothes, and do what the others do. It can’t be that difficult to learn.”

She stomped off mad, but she went. Jacob knew she didn’t want the others to think he had to do everything. They both knew some of the women had been whispering about her. People ought to learn to take care of their own households and not meddle in the affairs of others.

“How did it go?” he asked Lucille when she came back from washing clothes.

“Fine, I guess. I talked with a newly widowed woman at the creek. Her husband died not long after we left Independence. I told her about my family and your plantation. She seemed impressed with our backgrounds.”

“Oh, who was it?”

Jacob wanted to tell her to keep their money situation to herself. He didn’t want anyone to guess that he had a good amount with him, but, since she had tried to make a friend, he didn’t want to squelch Lucille’s efforts, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Her name’s Iris Bates. She’s rather attractive in a flashy sort of way, but she’s older than I am.”

“Is she traveling alone now?”

“I think she has some fifteen-year-old boy driving her wagon for her. She seems flattered that he appears infatuated with her.” Lucille gave a look of disapproval.

Jacob raised his eyebrows but said nothing. At least she had carried on a conversation with him for a change, and he didn’t want to be discouraging in any way.

“Jacob, I have something I need to tell you,” Lucille said to him after breakfast on Sunday.

“Certainly. What is it?” She didn’t normally begin a conversation. Perhaps things were gradually improving.

“We’re expecting a baby, probably in July.” Lucille lowered her eyes as she told him.

Jacob froze. This came as a total surprise, but perhaps a baby would bring them closer together. Although they weren’t arguing as much, their relationship remained strained and fragile.

“That’s wonderful, darling. How long have you known?”

“I’ve suspected since February. I’m about five months along now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Or, more pointedly, why didn’t she use this to keep them in St. Louis and off the Oregon Trail?

“I didn’t know how you’d take it, and I didn’t want to use the baby as a means to have my way. I was afraid you’d resent us both if I did.” She looked up at him now.

He’d never seen this side of Lucille before, and he didn’t know how to react. His thoughts became so jumbled he had to pause and sort them out before he could say anything.

“I’d never resent our baby,” he reassured her. “Why aren’t you showing more? Is everything all right?”

“I’ve been binding myself, so I wouldn’t show, but that’s getting harder to do, and I need to stop. Everything’s fine. The baby’s been moving, and I feel good.”

Jacob moved closer to her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “I wish you’d told me sooner, so I could share this with you. We should be close to Oregon before the birth, but I hope the trip won’t be too hard on you. I’ll continue to do as much as I can to help you, and the other women will help if you need them.”

She put her head on his shoulder and sniffed back the tears. He held her closer.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. We can even turn back if you want. We’re not all that far out of Independence now. We can sell our rig like you wanted and take a packet back to St. Louis. I’m sure I can find some sort of work there.”

“I’m not worried, Jacob. I’m just amazed at how supportive and caring you are. I know I’ve put you through a lot, and I want you to know I appreciate all you’ve done. I hope I can make you the wife you need.”

“I do care about you, Lucille. Don’t you know I love you and the baby? I’ll always try to do what I think is best for you both. You can depend on me.”

He didn’t know what path his love had taken. It often felt as if he navigated uncharted trails through a wilderness.

This hadn’t turned out to be the love he wanted or expected to have for his wife. Lucille still remained an enigma in many ways and acted so bad-tempered she’d made it hard for his love to grow. He did care for her, however, and he wanted their love to strengthen. Maybe it would, even if it only came from their feelings for their child. That would be a strong and deep love they both could share.

She looked up at him and stroked her hand down his cheek. “I know I can depend on you, Jacob, and I do appreciate you.”

She raised her head higher and brushed a kiss on his lips, the first intimate gesture she’d ever initiated. He wanted to hold her and thoroughly kiss her, but he didn’t. From past experience, he felt she’d freeze up again if he did. Instead, he softly returned her kiss with only his lips. She pulled back and smiled. He saw some new emotion flicker across her soft, green eyes. Was it regret?

He noticed she hadn’t said she loved him, but he would take what tenderness she offered. It sure beat her stiff coldness or the arguments and anger.

Lucille went into the wagon to get ready to go to the services, and he sat thinking about what he’d just learned. It made no sense to him that she would bind her body to keep him from knowing she was expecting. He couldn’t believe she’d thought he might be displeased. And, after she’d begged and pleaded for them to not go to Oregon, why hadn’t she used this to get her way? None of this seemed rational to him. The baby was the best grounds she could have found for not coming on this trip, and yet she’d failed to use it. Why? He’d never understand this woman.

The wild game became more plentiful, but Jacob only went hunting a few times. He would have liked to go out more, but Lucille seemed to depend on him. She didn’t fare well when he rode off for long. How ironical that she wanted him near but not too near. He guessed he liked her wanting him in any way, but it seemed a mixed blessing. Fresh meat would sure taste good.

The area held wild turkeys, deer, and an occasional elk. There were also panthers and giant gray wolves, but Jacob never mentioned those to Lucille.

They came to the Kaw River, a muddy mess that brought fear to many of the women and children because they would have to cross it.

Some hearty-looking Indians stood on the banks operating a ferry of sorts. They’d strapped some logs together and added some supports on the front and sides.

Only one wagon at a time could be transported. The ferry operators locked the wagon wheels by placing long poles through them. They also looped ropes through the hooks on the sides of the wagons and attached the lines to the edges of the logs on the ferry to keep the load stable.

Some of the men from the train mounted horses to drive the livestock across the most fordable location. They’d made sure the animals had plenty to drink before crossing, so they wouldn’t stop to drink. Jacob would have liked to join the drivers, but he could feel Lucille’s fear, and he knew he needed to stay with her on the ferry.

They were the third load to cross, and Jacob sighed in satisfaction. He had wanted to get this crossing over with. It must have been raining upstream, because the waters of the Kaw continued to rise, and the current continued to rush faster. The river moved rapidly, like a herd of school children pushing out to go home.

When the water splashed as their wagon entered the river, Lucille winced and drew back. She gripped his upper arm and closed her eyes when they reached the middle of the river. At least she seemed to think he offered her some security. The fact she would turn to him to keep her safe in troubled waters gave him a small measure of hope. His load made it across with no problems.

Toward the end of the train, however, the fast-rising river threatened to sweep away the ferry and its cargo, but the Indian men were strong and knew what they were doing. With straining muscles, they managed to get each load across, until they came to the last wagon.

With some hand signs and their broken English, the ferrymen indicated the last emigrants should wait until morning to join the group on the other side because the waters had become too treacherous. The wagon train planned to make camp on the north side of the Kaw since it would soon grow dark.

This wagon held an older couple. Their younger son, the only family member with them, rode with the drovers. They insisted on crossing now, so the Indians finally obliged. They were halfway across when a heavy current washed down upon them, and the entire ferry, wagon, and load, flipped over and went down.

The men on horseback tried desperately to save the couple, but the waters raged and the rapids swirled. The river held the elderly couple under, bubbling them up for only a few seconds at a time like a great throat gargling its water.

No sound could be heard from the startled crowd, except for an occasional gasp. The shock of the scene rendered everyone speechless at first.

The rescuers managed to pull the Indians out, for they were strong swimmers and knew the river. The braves were able to catch hold of some of the debris or ferry logs, which had now broken apart. The couple’s son and some friends took lanterns and searched all night, but they couldn’t find the victims.

They held a memorial service the next morning before they resumed their journey. The watery grave had been a stern reminder of how fragile life could be, especially on the Oregon Trail.

After the drowning, Lucille became quieter and looked more depressed. She loosened her wraps gradually until Jacob couldn’t believe how rounded her belly had become. How had he not noticed it the night he’d slept beside her in the wagon?

He guessed it had been dark, he hadn’t suspected anything then, and she’d had her nightgown bunched over her midsection. Besides, Lucille had never liked a lot of touching. They got together so seldom that the thought of her pregnant had never entered his mind. He worried about her now, however. She needed to keep her spirits up. He knew some women believed a woman’s disposition during the nine months determined the health of her child.

He tried his best to pull her out of her doldrums. He talked to some cute little girls and had them pick bunches of wildflowers for Lucille. He asked Lena to help him, and he cooked some special dishes for supper to coax her to eat better. Lena even brought by a pie and stayed to talk with his wife, but nothing seemed to help.

Becoming desperate, he located Iris Bates, the woman Lucille had talked with while doing laundry. Perhaps she could encourage Lucille.

Iris looked him over, batted her eyelashes, and gave him a seductive smile. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. The woman looked more like a barmaid with her flaming red, unruly hair, low-cut bodice, and lightly painted face.

“Sure, dear. I’ll be glad to come by your wagon anytime you want me.”

He left as quickly as possible. He was committed to his wife, but, even if he wasn’t, he still wouldn’t want a woman like Iris Bates.