Chapter 60: Another Vote
Mac took a deep breath and turned away from the crowd surrounding Pershing and Abercrombie. Jenny stood nearby. “Come on,” he said to her. “Let’s eat.”
“What’s going to happen?” she asked as they walked to their wagon.
Mac shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s gone so far, I’m not sure they can stay in the same company, no matter who’s leading.”
Mac wondered if their group would split up. If it did, he wasn’t sure what he would do. He despised Abercrombie, but he had to stay with the Tullers—Jenny would need their assistance during childbirth. What would Doc do?
Mac and Jenny ate in silence. When they finished, he sought Doc out.
“Let’s take a walk,” Doc said, leading Mac out of camp. “Do you have a sense of how the vote will go?” the doctor asked.
“Nope. You?”
Doc shook his head. “Folks don’t like Abercrombie. But they’re not happy with Pershing either. He wanted a company for families, but he ain’t setting a good example.”
“Man’s had a hard time of it,” Mac said. He stooped and picked up a small stick that he twirled idly in his fingers.
“Yes, he has.” Doc nodded. “Folks know he’s grieving. But his drunkenness puts them in harm’s way.”
Mac glanced at Doc. “Who you voting for?”
“You.”
The stick snapped in Mac’s hands. “Me?”
“You’re the best man to keep our group together. This company’ll split apart if either Pershing or Abercrombie wins.” Doc Tuller put a hand on Mac’s arm and stared him in the eye. “If I nominate you, will you do it?”
“Why not you?” Mac asked.
The doctor shook his head. “I’m too old. Not a good hunter or scout. You’ve earned their respect as a man. You’re smart, too.”
“I never looked to lead this group.”
“That’s why you can do it.” Doc’s hand tightened on Mac’s arm. “Folks need a way to get rid of Pershing, but not vote for Abercrombie. Dempsey and Hewitt will both back you.”
“You talked to them already?” Mac was shocked
Doc nodded. “They want a secret ballot. But they’ll back you. It’s our best way out of this mess.”
Mac couldn’t believe he even contemplated becoming captain. “What about Pershing and Abercrombie?” he asked. “What’ll they do?”
“Abercrombie won’t be happy if he ain’t chosen. But if you’re elected, he can’t do anything, unless he wants to leave. Pershing?” Doc shrugged. “He likes you. His pride’ll be hurt. But what’s he going to do? I don’t think we’ll lose him.”
“It would hurt the company if Pershing left,” Mac said.
“He’d have to leave if Abercrombie wins. Think what that’d do to Esther, the choice she’d have to make—staying with her husband or going with her father and the younger children.”
Mac stared at the ground. Could he do this?
“My one concern,” Doc continued, “is your wife. She’s about to give birth, and she’ll need you close. She’s awful young. It’s your call, son. But you’re the only man who can hold this company together.”
Mac took a deep breath. Jenny wouldn’t distract him. He could take her confinement in stride. He only worried because he was responsible for her. It wasn’t as if he was in love with her.
Mac looked Doc Tuller in the eye. “If you nominate me and I win, I’ll get us to Oregon,” he pledged. “Somehow.”
The men gathered in the wagon circle to vote. Pershing and Abercrombie stood in the middle of the group.
“Wait.” Dempsey raised his hand. “Before we vote, are there any candidates besides Pershing and Abercrombie?”
Doc stepped forward. “I nominate Caleb McDougall.”
Mac heard a woman in the crowd gasp. Was it Jenny?
“Now hold on!” Abercrombie yelled.
Dempsey ignored Abercrombie and frowned at Mac. “You willing?”
Mac saw Jenny in the crowd. She stared at him, a hand over her mouth. “If Doc thinks I should be a candidate, I’ll do it,” he said.
“Anyone else?” Dempsey looked around.
“I want a secret ballot.” Hewitt moved beside Dempsey waving slips of paper. “Every man eighteen or over can vote. No need for speeches. Let’s get on with it.”
“Some men can’t write,” Abercrombie said.
Hewitt passed out the paper. “If you can’t write a man’s name, it’s one X for Pershing, two for Abercrombie, three for McDougall.” He handed out pencils. “Doc and I’ll count.”
The balloting took several minutes. Then the counting. Mac’s stomach churned—was he worried that he’d win or that he’d lose?
Three piles of paper rose in front of Doc and Hewitt. One was smaller than the others, but that’s all Mac could tell.
“New captain’s McDougall,” Hewitt proclaimed.
A cheer rose from the men.
“Let me see,” Abercrombie said, snatching the ballots. He sifted through them, then threw the papers on the ground and stalked toward his wagon.
Pershing sat, silent. Zeke and Joel stood beside him looking stunned. Zeke squinted as Mac walked toward them.
Mac held his hand out to Pershing. “I need your support, sir,” he said. “You have the experience. Will you back me?”
Pershing pushed himself to his feet and looked at Mac. He shook Mac’s hand without saying a word, then walked to his wagon, stooped like an old man.
Mac looked at Zeke. “Zeke, I want you to take over my platoon. I’ll understand if you won’t, but I’d like you backing me, too.”
Zeke nodded. “I’ll say this to you, though not to anyone else—Pa brought it on himself. It’s not us you got to worry about. It’s Abercrombie.”
Mac returned to his wagon. Jenny had packed up and was ready to head out. “So you’re captain now?” she asked.
“Guess so.”
“You can do it.”
“I’ll have to.” Mac leaned against the wagon wheel. “How’d I get myself into this?” He didn’t know if he was talking to himself or to Jenny.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“All I wanted was adventure.” He sighed. “Then I took you on. Now a whole wagon train.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, lifting her chin.
Mac saddled Valiente, mounted, and waved his hat. “All right, folks. There’s a river to cross. Follow me.” He led the way to the Snake crossing just downstream from Fort Boise.
The crossing took longer than Mac thought it should. Were the men slow to follow his orders? Some men glanced at Pershing as if to confirm what Mac told them. Pershing and his sons moved their wagons into line, right where Mac directed them. Surely Pershing would say something if Mac steered the group wrong. He relaxed a little.
Abercrombie hung back at the ford, like he was waiting for something to go wrong. At last, only the Abercrombie wagons and Mac’s were left to cross. Mac gestured at Abercrombie to proceed.
“No, you first.” Abercrombie bowed low to Mac, scraping his hat almost to the ground.
Mac glanced at Jenny on the wagon bench. Her face was white. One hand gripped the bench and the other clasped the whip tightly. He should ride with her. But a captain waited until last, so he’d have to ride back after he took her across.
Zeke stepped over beside Mac. “I’ll take your wagon, Captain. You ride behind Abercrombie.” Zeke jumped up beside Jenny.
Mac watched Zeke drive the wagon with Jenny into deep water, then he gestured again at Abercrombie. The older man cracked his whip, and the Abercrombie wagons followed Zeke into the river. Mac brought up the rear on Valiente.
The sun was high when they completed the crossing, so Mac called the noon halt. After they ate, they headed north along the Snake.
Mac sent Joel ahead to scout. “We won’t make the Malheur River by dark,” Mac told him. “Find us a campsite.”
“At least we don’t have to cross the Snake again,” Jenny said as Mac boosted her onto the wagon bench.
“No. But the Columbia’s coming up. Biggest river since we left Missouri. The best way to Oregon City is to float down on rafts.”
Late that evening, after Mac had organized the camp and discussed the next day’s travel with the men, he wrote:
August 29, 1847. Elected captain. Crossed the Snake and camped by a small creek. Tomorrow we reach the Malheur. I never intended for this journey to lead to so much responsibility. Grandfather would be proud. I wonder about Father.