Ruth, p.14
Ruth, page 14
“We’re in agreement on that.” She smiled. “So good. Is there a ferry over the river?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then . . . how are we going to get across it?”
“Well, Nesmith and some of the others are going out at first light to hunt buffalo. A huge herd has been sighted not far off. Besides the meat, we’ll use the hides on some of the wagon’s bottoms to make them into boats. It’ll take some doing, but we’ll get us all across.”
“How’s that possible? Are you sure they won’t sink?”
“Gantt says he learned it from the Indians. He says there’s nothing to it.”
She rocked forward and leaned toward him. He took the hint and kissed her again . . . then again. Too soon, he pulled back and filled his lungs, looking like a little boy who wanted more, but knew better.
“How was your evening?”
Relaying what Star had said, she left out the girl’s tone. No need in heaping coals on the child’s head. Her Pa was going to be disappointed enough.
“Bless God.” He sighed and shook his head. “She’ll come around.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She gave him one last kiss before he gave her a hand up. Sharing a bed—or in that case, a pallet—would be so wonderful, cuddling all night, but that could wait until properly married.
It puzzled her that the train was splitting in two. What all would that entail? Didn’t they realize there was safety in numbers? Isn’t that why those hungry Indians didn’t attack them? That could have been such a terror.
During the next two days, everything proved routine with nothing much changed. Logan took every opportunity that came along to show his love, just as Star didn’t miss a chance to express her disdain.
Both babies were doing so good, growing, cooing, and smiling. Julia had taken to giggles when tickled.
The following day provided two remarkable sights she’d never seen before.
Early on that morning, an antelope happened upon the train. The dogs took out after the poor creature. Those that had them let their greyhounds loose, but even those racers couldn’t match the antelope’s speed or grace.
Akin to a deer but with striped necks and white hind ends, the animal’s hooves barely touched the ground. Last she saw, the beast effortlessly pulled away from its pursuers. Star cheered when the dogs returned without their prize.
That afternoon, the train stopped an hour early at the spot Gantt declared as the best to cross the Blue. While all the settlers focused on setting camps up for the evening, a band of Pawnee showed up, their travois piled high with dried meat, buffalo hides, horns, and hooves.
After some conversing, news spread that the red men were on their return home after a successful hunt.
Those Indians didn’t look as fierce as the earlier ones. Their faces weren’t painted, they had short hair, and they smiled and laughed a lot. They also shared a generous amount of their bounty, enough for everyone to have a taste.
Their jerky tasted so much better than the old bull Gantt had killed. They bedded near the wagons train, a little way up the Blue.
Almost as if on cue, Nesmith and the hunters who’d left with him returned the next morning loaded down with meat and hides.
She didn’t see much of Logan for the next three days as he helped the other men with the tedious chore of getting the wagons across the river. She hated even thinking about the danger of it.
What little time he could spare to be in camp, he spent seeing to his own chores, eating, and getting a little rest. Star hovered close to her Pa and gave Ruth hardly any opportunity to speak privately with him.
Of late, she’d been trying to forgive Tom, but so far, couldn’t rightly get the words out.
The man deserved death, hell, and the grave.
The reports of the Platt River bottoms providing ideal passage proved true.
On the first morning after finally getting everyone safely across the Blue—they’d only lost one wagon and no lives—the train covered a record twenty-five miles, the most in one day since leaving Independence.
The odd part was it hadn’t seemed all that much harder.
That night, the twenty-first day of June, Star went to bed even earlier than her normal time, leaving her Pa all to Ruth. He got the chess board out and set it up, sans his two rooks and their pawns.
She had trouble concentrating on the game, and he beat her posthaste. Tears welled. She tried to keep them from falling, but one after another escaped down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Concern etched his eyes.
Chapter Seventeen
Ruth held back the sob. It wasn’t fair or right.
“It’s that awful Tom! I’ve been trying to forgive him, but . . . he . . .” She sniffed, swallowed, then filled her lungs. “Logan, how can I forgive him? He deserves nothing more than death, hell, and the grave.”
“So do you.”
“What?” Her cheeks flashed hot. “What did you say?”
“That’s what we all deserve, my love. We’ve all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory. In Bible times, if you’d been caught with Tom, both of you would have been stoned. Same with Alice and me.”
Her eyes fell to the ground. Of course, he was right.
“Praise God though. He sent Jesus to pay for all of our sins. Tom’s, too. I put him on my prayer list. Maybe you need to also.”
“You’re . . . praying for Tom?”
“Yes, ma’am. Hopefully, I’ll meet him one fine day and get to hear his testimony—how God worked a miracle in his life and saved his soul.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. The man shamed her. She was so rotten for hating Julia’s father. “Lord, forgive me for hating Tom and give me the grace to forgive him. Help me to be more like Logan.”
He took her hand and squeezed, grinning. “Not like me, no, no. Be like Jesus.”
“Yes, Lord. He’s right again. Like Jesus, I want to be like Your Son.”
Logan knelt beside her, putting his other hand over hers. “Father, I’m in agreement with this fine woman You’ve given me to be my wife and the mother of my children. Heap Your love and mercy on her and all of us on this journey west.”
“Amen.” A warmth washed over her and filled her heart with peace. “I forgive him, Father, and thank you for my beautiful baby girl.”
“Amen and amen.”
Staying until the last possible moment, Logan attained one final kiss before standing then backed up a step. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too. See you come morning.”
After he found the man he relieved, he spent his two hours on watch contemplating his life, blessing God for Ruth, and that she found it in her heart to forgive Tom.
Star appeared to be a harder nut to crack. His firstborn had her mother’s features but his stubbornness. Like a dog with a juicy ham bone, she never gave up.
He’d always counted it a good trait, but her holding on to her groundless grudge against Ruth had grown into obstinacy.
Francesca had switched the girl’s legs a few times, not that she ever needed much discipline; his baby had always been such a good girl. The last time his wife made Star cut a peach bough, it was all he could do to not intervene.
Bless God, he hadn’t, and in the end, his daughter had repented and spent half an hour loving on her mother.
She needed her mother.
If his wife hadn’t died though, he wouldn’t be traveling in the Platt River bottoms heading west. If not for his imprudence with Alice, he would never have met Ruth either.
The Lord sure worked in mysterious ways and turned the most unlikely things into good for His children.
The next morning, like every other day of his life, the sun rose in the east, but that day, a new wagon caught up with the train. A Doctor Marcus Whitman, a missionary returning to his home on the Walla Walla River owned it.
Word soon spread about the good doctor. In addition to having a physician in the company, he proved to be a man quite knowledgeable regarding the trail to Oregon.
The man of God had made the trip east the previous winter to settle his brother’s estate and meet with his missions board.
Unlike Gantt and others who agreed that the emigrants should abandon their wagons and complete the journey on foot with only their pack animals once they reached Fort Hall, Whitman declared with all confidence that such a large company of wagons could make its way across the Rockies.
Reiterating it would take plenty of hard work, he believed the settlers could—and would—be successful traversing the mountains between them and Oregon.
He assured them it was possible.
That claim proved to be sweet music to Logan’s ears. He’d been wondering on how he would ever get himself and his family to the Promised Land without his wagon. Using the oxen as pack animals didn’t have much appeal, especially with two wee babes.
That challenge had been erased with the new leader’s convictions.
What remained on his plate—reconciling Star with Ruth—couldn’t be solved by hard work or a new man of vision. He only had One who would help and be able to make any progress, change hearts.
To that One, he repetitiously asked for guidance.
As the days that piled one on top of each other, his desire to have and hold Ruth grew with each soft word she spoke. His longing to forsake all others grew with each smile she awarded and each loving touch of her lips to his. Every embrace, he cherished.
What if they settled short of Oregon?
That was the deal . . . as soon as they settled somewhere.
His daughter wasn’t a liar. He prayed she could find it in her heart to accept the truth about her new stepmother-to-be—that Ruth had never said he wasn’t good enough for her.
Star had misunderstood, heard what she wanted to hear, then embellished and meditated on the worst scenarios until those had become what she believed she’d heard.
If she could give up her offense, life would be about perfect.
Toward the end of June, the twenty-seventh if he had it right, seven buffalo bulls were spotted across the river. Then like the train wasn’t even there, the beasts waded into the river and took to swimming across.
Logan grabbed his long gun and joined a line of riflemen ready to harvest the bounty the Lord provided. The anticipation of fresh meat wet his lips and hopefully, sharpened his aim. The seven climbed ashore, and the guns exploded.
Three fell dead. The others busted through the line, scattering the men. Wounded, the frantic beasts still charged ahead at full speed.
Women and children screamed and scattered.
It took some doing, but those, too, were soon dispatched.
The whole company spent the rest of the day butchering, drying and cooking, then most of all, enjoying the fine meal of meat the Lord had provided.
June burned into July. He’d tried on numerous occasions—and Ruth had as well—to chip away at the brick wall Star had built between herself and his love. Much worse than when he was married to Alice. The child had at least been cordial then.
The only time he saw a smile on his daughter’s face since she’d taken an offense toward Ruth was when she played with one of the babes, or when Doak McKenny happened by.
Seemed of late the boy came around more often than usual.
At the confluence of the North Platt and Laramie rivers, the train reached Fort Laramie on the twelfth day of July. On approach, many conical tents dotted the plains in front of the trading post. Captain Martin called for two days of rest and repairs.
Well built up for being in the middle of nowhere, it contained several large buildings, including the store and one with rooms for rent.
Logan’s talents with wheel repairs proved in such demand, he didn’t get much rest. Soon enough, coins lined his pockets, and he promptly went to shopping there at the fort.
My, oh my, prices were outrageous.
Coffee sold for a dollar and a half a pint, but he and his loved the stuff, so he paid the coin earned fixing all those broken wheels. Flour at twenty-five cents a pound seemed like thievery but was a necessity—as was the powder he laid in at a dollar and half a pound and lead for half that amount.
Not many were so blessed to spend as freely.
A bolt of pretty calico material caught his eye, but at a dollar per yard and with Ruth pointing out its poor quality, he passed on the cloth. Instead, he treated his ladies to two pounds of brown sugar. He figured the three dollars he paid for it might help Star’s sour mindset.
The girl seemed genuinely eager to have some sweet bread, and when Ruth suggested a batch of oatmeal cookies, his daughter quickly agreed—maybe the only time she had agreed with anything out of Ruth’s mouth of late.
All and all, the stay at Fort Laramie worked wonders as a much-needed break.
The Cheyenne people who visited the fort—and especially their chief—impressed everyone, himself included. Young for a leader, maybe in his early thirties, the chief walked with a stately manner and had chiseled features.
The natives moved freely among the whites.
The private trading company who built the fort opened for business nine years prior and never had any trouble with the red men. It appeared to Logan though that the man and his braves would be formidable foes if war ever broke out.
Hopefully, that would never happen.
On the next morning, as the train rolled away from the fort, Star spotted Doak—her Doak—beside one of the cone-shaped tents, talking with a young Cheyenne maiden. What was he doing?
Did she know English? Had he learned Cheyenne?
What was he giving her?
The two-timing letch! She made herself turn away.
So much for him! She hated him!
What a fool she’d been for thinking she cared for him at all. She’d thought it was surely the true love Miss Ruth spoke of, but maybe that was all just a fantasy anyway.
Had Miss Ruth settled to live her life without it since she already said she didn’t true love her father because he wasn’t good enough for her?
That stupid boy had made such a fool of her, coming around acting like he was keen on her, smiling at her, sneaking up on her when she gathered deadfall or buffalo chips and telling her how pretty she was. Humph! Then running off before anyone saw him.
Running off to talk to an Indian squaw!
Well, all his shenanigans with Star would stop posthaste. She’d tell Pa, and he would promptly shoot the galoot! Ha!
To think Doak’s own Pa was well thought of; that’s what her father had said, and for that reason he’d approved of the cheater coming ’round. Sure wasn’t anything akin to like father, like son!
She quickened her pace until she walked beside her father. “Pa, if I asked you, will you shoot someone for me?”
“Depends. Do they need killing?”
“Yes, sir, most assuredly. In the worst way.”
“Guess I’d have to then. Should the one in question get a trial first?”
“No, sir. That will not be necessary, believe you me! He’s guilty, all right! I saw him with my own eyes!”
“What’d you see, sweetheart?”
What did she see . . .?
It wasn’t like the traitor actually kissed that Indian girl. What if he was only trading her out of something pretty, maybe even something to give to Star as a present?
“Never mind for now, Pa. Maybe we need that trial after all. I’ll do some asking around.”
As she slowed her pace, he walked on ahead, staying beside the oxen then turned and looked back. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Oh! Well . . . I was just going to check on Noah. Why?”
“Isn’t Miss Ruth with the babies?”
“Probably.” That might be her chance to talk some sense into her father. She caught up with him again.
“She’s supposed to be anyway, but you never know if she’s doing what she’s been hired to do. I think she’s giving Julia about twice the milk poor little Noah gets.”
“You think that’s the reason he’s grown almost twice as big as his older sister?”
“She is not his sister, Pa.”
“Well, she’s going to be, and she’ll be your little sister, too.”
“Humph. Well, I just want to keep a wary eye on the nursemaid. She might just be mistreating my brother. Ursula told me you have to keep an eye on the hired help.”
“Star Jo, Ruth is going to be my wife. You need to get over this grudge you have against her and quit listening to bad advice.”
“I don’t have any grudge. What is a grudge anyway?”
“A persistent feeling of ill will or resentment that started with a past insult or injury is what I’d say.”
“Oh, well then . . . Anyway, it has nothing to do with a grudge or any resentment. It’s only about her not being good enough for you. You’re a very special man, Pa, and I know it’s true you could have your pick of available women.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“There’s no need for you to try being humble or to settle for Miss Ruth just because she can feed your son. That’s just all kinds of wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong with loving her for that, but it’s only one of the reasons I love her.”
“Well, hopefully, you’ll see what I’m talking about before it’s too late. I do not want another fiasco like that Alice, and you have to admit I knew the minute I met her, but did you listen to me? No. You couldn’t pay attention to your own daughter trying her best to warn you, and just look how that turned out!”
“Sweetheart, I love you, but I’ve repented over my mistake with Alice and told you I never loved her. I love Miss Ruth with my whole heart, and—”
“Wait, not your whole heart, because you love me the most. How many times have you told me I was the most important person to you in all the world?”
“I love you both with my whole heart, and Noah and Julia, too.”
“You can’t love her baby as much as you love your own, Pa. That’s not right.”
“Star. I’m praying for God to soften your heart but telling you here and now I will not put up with any more disrespect toward Ruth. Do you hear me? I hope with everything in me that you’ll at least come to like her again. You know the Lord sent her to feed your brother and for us to help her and Julia.”
