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Erin and Molly were both relieved when the dogs showed signs of waking up that evening. It seemed to take some time for them to come out of their stupor; the sleep was wearing off far too slowly. Molly made sure they had plenty of water. King finally staggered up and Erin helped him make his way to a bush to pee. He was so wobbly he couldn’t raise his leg and squatted like a bitch. He seemed embarrassed by this, and Erin turned away, so he could go. She next helped Queenie up, and the two of them made their way to the same bushes King had used. He was now sitting, waiting for them and watched curiously as she sniffed and then made her stream, squatting without embarrassment. As Erin helped her back to camp, King snuffled the grass and peed over her spot before staggering along and following them.
“What’s wrong with King?” Tommy asked, concerned.
“Look at Queenie. Is she ill?” Theresa put in.
“They were both fed meat that was bad for them and they are slowly recovering,” Molly informed them. “Get their food, and we’ll put some of this fine gravy on it to help them get strong again.” She smiled as she saw the children hurry off to do her bidding, knowing it was because of their love for the two dogs. She saw Queenie curl up by her pups, checking each of them with her nose, licking and cleaning them as they slept on.
Erin returned before dinner with two buckets brimming with milk and strained them for Molly, who explained about the gravy over the dog’s food. She thought it was a good idea. They needed something in their stomachs, and she hoped it would pass through them normally. She worried there might be lingering effects from whatever the men had fed them with that meat. She’d have to train the dogs not to eat anything that wasn’t handed to them by the family. She wondered how she could do that.
Erin slept in the cold that night, guarding the herd since King and Queenie were both still laying by the fire. At some point during the night, King joined her, keeping her warm as he snuggled up close to where she lay. Hearing him, she woke from the doze she had been in, ready to grab her gun and fire if she saw a man’s shadow. Realizing that the dog was much more alert, she settled down next to him and slept a little more soundly, hoping he would wake her if there was cause.
By the next morning, Queenie and the pups were also back to normal. One of the pups seemed a little off. It was having trouble getting on its feet, but that didn’t stop them from putting all the pups in their sling under the wagon and packing up their camp. Erin wanted to be gone from this bad place and on their way.
King and Queenie didn’t seem to suffer any ill effects from the incident. Erin began training them by leaving meat out to see if they would take it. When they went to eat it, she shouted at them, scaring them off the meat. A while later, she would feed them other food, praising them when they took it from her hand or when they saw she had put it in their bowls. She taught the children and Molly too. She explained that she didn’t want the dogs taking anything but what the family gave them. That way, they couldn’t be poisoned again.
The final calf dropped, and their milk production was incredible. Molly complained that they had too much milk and butter to pack away every day. She also hadn’t gotten rid of the keg she had filled since they hadn’t gone into St. Charles. The children were able to drink as much as they wanted, something they had never experienced before. There were smaller towns between St. Charles and Franklin, but at the next major town they needed to stock up on some supplies. They had used a lot of their basics on the journey so far, especially with five children to support. Of course, they had plenty of salt, but other staples like sugar, rice, and flour were being used on a regular basis.
“Good thing we packed our own flour,” Molly mentioned as they went over the lists of what they had been told to bring.
“Yes, but we didn’t expect to use quite this much,” Erin pointed out. She didn’t regret adopting the children, but she was always surprised by how much they ate. It was a never-ending well of food, and they ran off any fat they might have gained.
“Well, we have our four hundred pounds of bacon on the hoof,” she indicated where Tommy and Theresa had fallen asleep with the piglets under the wagon. Their playmates were meant for more than play, and it would break their hearts when they had to butcher one of them for food or sale. “Isn’t that cute?”
Erin’s heart went out to the children. They were so innocent, although they had been shocked by the incident in St. Charles and the fact that Erin wore a gun all the time. She had also taken to keeping her Bowie hunting knife on her belt. It came in handy in many ways, but she knew they had eyed her differently since St. Charles and the visit by the sheriff, gleaning from conversations with their ma what had happened.
“The coffee is going further than we expected,” Molly continued, going down the list, “but we could do with a few more pounds.”
“How’s that two hundred pounds of lard holding out?” Erin grinned, remembering how their list back in Ohio seemed much different than practical use out here as they traveled.
Molly ignored her comment and continued with, “We will need more rice, but the dried fruit is holding out.”
“How is that possible?” she asked, knowing the children’s propensity for eating dried fruit and jerky. They’d been admonished several times for going into their stores, but she thought they’d gotten them to stop.
“I’ve locked it up...or so they think. They haven’t gone through every bag in the wagon,” she lowered her voice. The children were always listening, and she didn’t want them to hear this.
Erin chuckled but understood. Well, they now had their list and could afford to stock up, if the prices weren’t too high in the next town.
The prices were higher, much higher than they had been expecting, but Erin bargained with the shopkeeper, pointing out that she was buying in bulk, so they got a better price on their purchases. Erin made sure to get enough canvas to make two tents, grinning cheekily at Molly, who flushed becomingly as she completed little purchases like thread to repair rips and tears.
“Oh, look at these wools,” she admired, feeling them with her work-roughened hands, her dry skin catching on the material.
“How did they get such vivid colors?” Erin asked wonderingly, enjoying the look on Molly’s face. She knew that Molly would never ask for such an extravagant expenditure, but she made a jerk with her head to the shopkeeper, who understood and surreptitiously added skeins of the wool with their other purchases.
“If you are looking for a supplier of wool, there is a farmer on the road out of town that is raising sheep. He is the one who is dying these beautiful colors,” he explained, distracting Molly momentarily. “His name is Spencer, if you’re interested.”
“Thank you. That is fascinating,” Molly answered with a smile, looking at the various colors, something she hadn’t seen before. She touched them wonderingly one more time before turning firmly away and looking for other things they needed. “Don’t touch,” she repeated to the children, something they had been warned about before coming into the store. They had been in other stores along the way, but this was their first major stock up and it had taken longer.
“Mister. Those your dogs outside?” a man came inside and pointed back at the wagon, the horses tied up to the end and the cattle standing about behind. People were looking on curiously. Theo was standing about outside, supposedly looking after their stock but instead looking longingly at the mercantile where his whole family was shopping.
“Yes,” Erin answered, glancing beyond the man to see if there was a problem.
“Will you sell a pup or two?”
“They are a might young, not quite eight weeks,” she confessed, although it would reduce the mouths that Queenie had to feed.
“I can bottle feed ‘em, and it ain’t often ya see Tervurens. Your male dog and the bitch growled at me when I was lookin’ at the pups a might too long,” he laughed, not in the least perturbed at the dogs’ behaviors. “How much you want for a pup?”
Without hesitating, knowing that prices were higher here on the frontier, Erin answered, “Two bits.”
The man blinked, surprised. He looked back out the door at the sling under the wagon where the bitch sat in the shade it provided. She was looking around, guarding not only her pups but the wagon as well. Those sure were fine dogs...but two bits? Each? He looked back at the farmer, who looked on the thin side, but the gun slung across his back told the man he was no pilgrim. Thinking it over, he reached deep in his pants and said, “Four bits,” and flicked two quarters Erin’s way. She caught them in midair, looking at the man and then looking down at the change.
“Take a look and choose which two you want. I’ll distract our bitch for a moment, so you can take them,” she offered, knowing Queenie had become extra protective about the pups since the incident in St. Charles, despite their growing exuberance.
“Have to distract her, eh?” the man asked, pleased with the idea that he could pick out the two he wanted. Of course, he intended to get the best two.
“She’s a good mama.” Erin turned back to Molly, “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t forget the butter.”
Molly nodded, sad to see two of the pups go, but it was too much to take an entire litter of pups on the trip they had ahead of them. They’d come a far piece and had just as far, if not farther, to go. She was tired of traveling already. She sighed, turning away from the view of Erin and the man examining the pups.
“Ma, is Pa getting rid of some of the pups?” Tommy asked, sounding distressed. His eternal shadow, in the form of Theresa, was looking worried behind him.
“Yes, darling. It’s time we started selling the pups. They are good stock, and we can’t keep them all,” she explained gently. Then she turned back to the shopkeeper, asking for some of the supplies that were on their list.
“Heading to Oregon?” he asked, knowingly. The large bulk items Erin had already bargained for were being gathered by his son.
She nodded with a smile as she concentrated on her list.
“But, Ma. We’re gonna miss the puppies,” Tommy whined.
“I know, Tommy, but we can’t keep them all,” she repeated, glancing at him for a moment, seeing how sad it made him. “Did you check on the kittens?” she asked, to distract the six-year-old.
He nodded, his cowlick flopping as his head bobbed. The kittens had been born right after St. Charles, on one of the mattresses in the wagon, of course. It had created another mess that Molly had to wash up, but Erin had taken it from her and done the wash instead, much to the surprise of the children, who were still having a hard time getting used to the idea of a man doing women’s work. Both of their parents tried to help them understand there was no such thing.
“You have a regular Noah’s ark there, don’t you?” the shopkeeper joked, adding things to the growing pile of supplies they had already agreed on. Molly hadn’t seen the wools he added to the box he was packing for her.
“Naamah’s Ark,” she corrected without thinking.
“What’s that?” he asked, blinking.
Realizing what she had said, she laughed. “It’s a joke my husband and I share. We don’t have Noah’s Ark with all the children and animals, we have his wife’s ark. Naamah?” she reminded him, sure any God-fearing man would know the name.
“Ah, yes,” he said slowly, clearly not understanding the joke but willing to humor her.
Erin returned, smiling and said, “Well, are we about done here?”
“Yes, the list is complete.” Molly smiled. “You just need to pay, and we need to pack it up.”
“Ma, could I have–” began Tabitha but stopped when she saw Erin. The children had all been warned there was no money for frills and not to ask. She turned to follow her Ma out the door.
“Quite a brood you got there,” the shopkeeper said jovially, packing up the last of the items and totaling up the bill.
“That we do,” Erin said proudly, glancing out the door as the boy working for the merchant brought the bags of rice, coffee, and flour out, one by one, and put them on the edge of the sidewalk. She paid the bill gladly, inwardly cringing at the inflated prices. “My wife trade you the butter we churned?” she asked.
“No, she plum forgot, and I could use some good butter. How much ya got?” he replied, counting the money that Erin had handed him for their purchases.
Erin told him and went to get the keg of butter they had in trade. With the warmer weather, it wouldn’t hold much longer, and the air was feeling spring-like here. The merchant was pleased and named a price Erin could live with. She ordered a few more items in trade and the merchant smiled, slipping them into the boxes as he helped her carry them out to their wagon. Molly and Tabitha had climbed up and were ready to take the boxes. The boy and Erin started lifting the sacks over the tailgate.
“Thank you muchly,” Erin told the man as they completed loading the last of their boxes and bags. She shook the man’s hand firmly, having practiced on the trip out and feeling confident they wouldn’t see through her disguise. She’d filled out a bit on the trip, and the men’s clothes she wore now fit better. Molly had cut her hair regularly too, and she looked every bit the man she was attempting to impersonate.
“Pa, can I ride with you?” Theo asked, holding the reins of the mare the children had decided to name Princess, much to Erin’s annoyance.
“Sure can. Let’s get out of town with these varmints,” she joked as she mounted up and then leaned down to grab Theo’s outstretched arm, kicking her foot out of the stirrup, so he could step into it to get up and over the back of the mare. Once in the saddle, he wrapped his arms around his Pa’s middle and they went to gather the cattle. Molly got the oxen moving and they plodded out of town, leading the horses on ropes, so they wouldn’t get scared and run off. The sow and her piglets, now mid-grown, herded behind them as they jogged to keep up. Queenie followed her pups in their hammock, hanging back slightly to keep the herd of piglets in line. King helped easily with the cattle, the milk cow’s udders swinging low, their calves walking beside them and looking around a lot as they went. The littlest one would have to be returned to the sling on the back of the wagon eventually, but as they headed out of town he would walk. One of the beef cows also had a small calf and Erin eyed it, wondering if they would have to sling it up too. Billy threw up his head and bellowed loudly, almost as though announcing that the Herriot Ark was leaving town.