Angel Train Page 21

  “I’m glad you told me, Pa. I didn’t know that.”

  “I hope it helps you. Of course, the man can’t become a Christian just to get a wife, but when God wants to do so, He can convict someone. He wanted the apostle Paul so bad He knocked him to the ground to get his attention, so you and I will pray that Casey Tremayne will find his way to God. Then he can talk to you about marriage, and if you love him, you’ll know what to say.”

  * * *

  SEEING WHAT THERE WAS of the Dalles did not take long, for it was, indeed, a small place. Its main claim to existence was its location on the Columbia River. Beyond there, those who wanted to get to Oregon City had to pass dangerous rapids, for the mountains barred the way, forbidding travel by wagon, though individual animals could make it.

  The travelers had spent the night resting and talking about what lay before them, but early the next morning Gwilym and several of the other elders met. Tremayne waited while they prayed for guidance, and then he accompanied them to the river. They stood on the banks and looked across it, and all of them fell silent. After a time Gwilym said, “Well, the river is bigger than I’d like, but it doesn’t look too bad.”

  Karl Studdart shook his head. “I never did like boats or water, but I’m going to have to put up with it. Do you know how to build a raft, Tremayne?”

  “No, I’m not a river man. We’ll have to find someone.”

  “What about that fellow over there?” Nelson Brand, one of the elders, pointed to a man trimming lumber that lay in a neat stack. “Looks like he’s building a raft right now. Let’s ask him.”

  They moved across the open broken ground, and when the man saw them, he laid his ax down and approached. “Howdy. Just get in from on the trail?”

  “Just yesterday,” Gwilym said. “My name’s Gwilym Morgan.” He introduced the others. “We’re wondering about how to build a raft.”

  “My name’s Bob Crutchfield, Mr. Morgan. I’ve been here for about a month.”

  “Where did you come in from, Crutchfield?” Tremayne asked. He liked the looks of the man for the fellow was tall and strong. His hands were toughened, and he looked like a worker.

  “We came from St. Joe, Missouri, with a train, but my wife got sick just before we got to the Dalles. She wasn’t able to make such a rough trip.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Gwilym said. “How is she now?”

  “She’s doing much better. I’m building this raft for myself.”

  “We’d appreciate it if you could teach us how to do that. None of us know how to build a raft.”

  “Be proud to help you all I can. Some people abandon their wagons here and pack what they can on a horse and go over the mountains. But you have to leave everything.”

  “I don’t think we’d care to do that,” Studdart said. “Is it hard to build a raft?”

  “It takes a lot of work. See those logs? That’s about the size you need. You just cut ’em, and using your animals, drag them up here and fasten them together. That’s about it.”

  “How do you carry the animals on a raft?”

  “Well, most people don’t. They put their wagon on the raft, take the wheels off, and tie it down, and then they have some of their menfolk take the herd through the gap. Rough going, but you can make it with animals like that. Then they’re waiting there when the raft floats down and gets to Fort Vancouver. Be proud to show you how to build them.”

  “We’d be mighty obliged to you.”

  “You can talk to some of the other men around here who’ve watched a lot of raft building. They know the river too. It can get a might dangerous when it’s high, but it ain’t too bad right now. I figure you can get your rafts made in a week or maybe two, and the river is falling so it ought to be fairly safe.” He laughed, showing his white teeth against his bronzed skin. “I can’t swim a lick so I’m going to carry a barrel or something to hang on to if I fall off. Here, let me show you how this raft building goes.”

  * * *

  BUILDING RAFTS KEPT THE men busy from early morning until dark. The women were busy with their chores, but since there was no traveling, they had time to wash clothes, sort out their foodstuffs, and cook better meals. There was time for talk, too, and, of course, plenty of that went on.

  Marzina was washing clothes when York Wingate approached her. “It’s getting colder,” he said.

  “I don’t mind. I like the cold.”

  York smiled abruptly. “You better like the rain. From what I hear from the folks around here they had a drought in Oregon that lasted nearly all day.”

  Marzina laughed. It made a pleasant sound. “I’m dreading that trip on that raft. It looks dangerous.”

  “Crutchfield says it’s not really so bad at this time of the year. It’s a good time we got here when we did. If it were snowing and freezing, it would be a different story.”

  “I’ll have to hire someone to build my raft,” she said.

  “I already done that. I hired Crutchfield to build us two rafts. He’s done it before, and he said he’d hire some help. I’m not much good with my hands like that—building things, carpenter work.”

  “Well, your hands are for other things like healing people, York. And you use them for that, which is important.”

  “Well, I want to do some good for people here.”

  “What are you going to do when we get there?”

  “I’ll open an office in Oregon City.”

  A faint line of worry creased Marzina’s forehead, and she said at once, “We won’t be having a doctor then.”

  “Yes, you will. I’ll have a buggy and a team, and I’ll make rounds regularly.”

  Relief came to Marzina’s face, and she smiled. “That’s good, York. The men have agreed to build me a cabin. Isn’t that nice of them?”

  “Well, you can’t stay by yourself.”

  “I can if I have to.”

  Wingate looked embarrassed and then troubled. “What’s wrong?” Marzina asked.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking. I’ve got to have an office, and I’ve got to have a place to live. I’m no housekeeper, and I need somebody to work in the office to be there when I’m not. I was hoping you would stay in Oregon City. You could do my housekeeping for me, take care of the office, clean it up, and, of course, you need to be close for David. There might be a nursing mother available, but David’s used to you, and you’re so good with him.”

  “I’m not sure that would be the right thing to do.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

  “Are you talking about living in the same house? That would cause gossiping tongues to wag.”

  “We could have different places. I want you to be close. I’d like to help you, Marzina. We’re tied together. We both lost someone, and we each have a baby to rear, and I don’t know the first thing about it. That’s another thing you could do— keep David while I’m working. We’re yoked together like a pair of oxen, I guess.”

  For a moment Marzina hesitated, then she said, “We’re not exactly the same, you and I. We both lost someone, but you loved your wife. I’m ashamed to say it, but I never cared for Nolan the way a woman should care for a husband.”

  “I guess I knew that.”

  “Marriage wasn’t my choice, and I never felt really like a wife. I felt more like a servant. That’s an awful thing to say.”

  The two were silent for a moment, and then York said, “You think on it, Marzina. I need you, and David needs you. We can help each other.”

  Marzina smiled. “It’s like you to think of me that way, of my good and of my children’s. I will think on it.”

  He took her hand and held it in both of his. “I’ll be hoping you will stay because I need you something fierce.”

  The words soothed Marzina. They were words she had never heard from her husband. He had never told her he needed her, and now this man—such a good man!—was saying words she had hungered for. She was aware of his strong hands holding hers, and then York sudden
ly turned and left. Marzina knew that she would think about what he said. And in her heart that was what she had longed for.

  * * *

  THE CREW WAS GATHERED by the river, ready to cut logs. The men had brought saws, and all of them had axes. Now as Tremayne looked at them, he was surprised to find he had almost a fondness for them.

  He laughed suddenly and said, “You know. I hate to tell you this, but you men have done a good job. I don’t think anyone could have done better.” He saw their pleased expressions and added, “One more chore here. Build these rafts. Float down the river to Fort Vancouver. It’s a short way from there to Oregon City, and as soon as we get to Oregon City, all you men are free.”

  “We don’t know how to build rafts,” Jack Canreen said.

  “Well, I don’t either, but this is Bob Crutchfield. He’s built plenty of rafts, and he’s willing to boss the job. So you just listen to him. Bob, give us the outline of what we need to do.”

  Crutchfield had been standing slightly to the side of Casey, and now he said, “Well, you men may not have built rafts, but I imagine you’ve felled trees. All we do is fell the right-sized tree, trim it up, cut it to length, and have the oxen pull it down to the river. We use some pieces of timber or else short lengths of smaller trees to fasten it together. You use mostly pegs and cables.” He explained how the wagons were placed on the rafts, and the wheels removed to lower it and give it more stability. Finally, he asked for questions.

  “How do you steer the things, Crutchfield?”

  “Put sort of a sweep on the back, a rudder. The river is slow right now so it’s not much trouble. A couple of men in the front can push off from the banks if you get too close, but a good man at the sweep can dodge most obstacles. It’s like driving a wagon down a road. Stay in the middle of it. We won’t have any trouble this time of the year.”

  After several more questions, Bob said, “You fellows come with me and bring your animals. We can get a bunch of trees down today. We’ll have one crew hauling, another crew cutting, and another one trimming. You’ll be in Oregon City before you know it.”

  * * *

  COLD WEATHER BEGAN AS the last of the rafts was assembled. It had been hard work, but there were plenty of hands, and some like York Wingate had hired local help. In all, it had taken no more than two weeks. Crutchfield had given Ringo Jukes the directions on how to take the stock through the mountains.

  “You can’t get lost, Ringo. It’s a narrow trail so the animals will have to go through one at a time in places. Pretty steep, but you can make it.”

  Ringo left almost immediately with instructions from Crutchfield on where to go. Crutchfield also identified the best landing spot, drew a rough map, and said, “When we come down the river, we’ll steer for this place. You and the rest of the crew that are taking the cattle be ready. We’ll throw you a rope, you drag the nose in, and we can take them down and put the wheels back on. You can’t get lost. You’ll find the landing spot easy.”

  That night Evan looked over the meal Charity had cooked. “This looks good.”

  “Well, Mr. Studdart slaughtered a cow, and he shared it with the whole train.”

  Gwilym was smiling. “Studdart’s a different kind of fellow. Losing that girl took something out of him, but I think it put something in him too. A loss like that can strengthen a man if he takes it right.”

  “Pa, say a prayer and then we’ll eat,” Charity said. “Everybody’s hungry.”

  “All right. Everybody gather round and hold hands.”

  Tremayne moved forward, and he was between Meredith and Charity. Meredith offered her hand. He took it, and then he turned to face Charity. He smiled at her, and when she put her hand in his, he felt the strength of her grip.

  Gwilym said in a voice filled with emotion, “Lord, we can do no other than thank You from our hearts for bringing us over this long journey. Surely You’ve guided us even as You guided Moses and the children of Israel. We thank You for that, for the blessings of life. We thank You for this food, and, Lord, we pray that You will go before us and guide the way, and put us on the homestead where You would have us. And, Lord, we ask this in Jesus’ name.”

  Evan laughed. “I’m glad that was a short prayer, Pa.”

  “Don’t be irreligious,” Gwilym said fondly. “You’re eating fast enough to choke.”

  Indeed Evan did eat more quickly than the rest. Meredith said, “Why you eating so fast, Evan?”

  “Because I’m hungry.”

  But everyone knew it was more than hunger, for when Evan finished, he said, “I guess I’ll go walk around awhile.”

  He left and went directly to the raft where the Gypsies had their wagon tied down. They had fixed a fire, and Zamora was cooking steaks. She said, “We have plenty for everyone.”

  “Just ate,” Evan said. “Nice of Mr. Studdart to slaughter one of his cattle for us.”

  Stefan said, “I’m going to raise some beef critters when we get our place. Don’t want to be a rancher, but always good to have your own beef.”

  Zamora fed them all, and finally, she whispered to Evan, “Grandmother is in a strange mood.”

  “Is she sick?”

  Trouble came into Zamora’s dark eyes. “I think she is. She never will say she is, but she hasn’t been feeling well for several days. Come along. She’ll want to talk to you. She’s always liked you, Evan.”

  Evan moved to the raft where the bed was made up inside. He and Zamora climbed in and sat, one on each side, of the old woman who was lying flat on her back on a pallet. She reached up her hand, and her dark eyes took in Evan. “So, young Evan, you’ve come to see the old woman?”

  “Yes, I have. Don’t you feel well, Lareina?”

  Lareina didn’t answer him. Instead she reached both hands up, one on each side. Evan was surprised by it. He took one, and he was shocked at the thinness and the fragility of the bones. It was like a bird’s bone. Zamora was holding the other hand, and he didn’t know what to say.

  “This is a dark world. Gypsies have a hard time, but the good God has taken care of us. I’m glad, Daughter, that you are in a new land.”

  “I’m glad too. You’ll like it here, Lareina,” Evan said.

  The old woman didn’t answer. She seemed to be withholding a secret. Zamora could recognize this. The young woman’s face was inclined toward the old woman, and she was staring into her grandmother’s eyes. The old woman suddenly began to speak in a foreign language. Evan couldn’t understand a word, and her voice was strong for a time, then it began to grow faint.

  Lareina turned her face and said, “You are a good man, young Evan. God be with you and give you many children and a family. It’s good for a man to be surrounded by his children.”

  The old woman closed her eyes, and Zamora nodded to Evan. The two crawled out of the wagon, and Zamora walked toward the fire. They were alone, for Stefan had left on an errand.

  “I’m worried about her. She’s very ill. I’ve never seen her this weak.”

  “She’ll be better when we get settled,” he said.

  “We won’t be settled for a time.”

  “What do you mean, Zamora?”

  “There’s so much to do, and she’s so tired. She can’t go through this, Evan.” Zamora turned to face him. “You didn’t understand what she said, did you?”

  “No. What was it?”

  “It’s her native language. Mine, too, but I couldn’t believe what she was saying. She talked about me.”

  The silence surrounded them, except for the calling of a night bird in the woods. The voices of others came faintly from where the rafts were anchored.

  “She’s worried about me,” Zamora said.

  “Why is she worried?”

  “She’s always been on the move except when she was a very young girl. She talked about that. Then she lived with her parents, and they had a house. She never told me much about that, but she said it’s good to have roots. She talked about how sad it was always to be
living in a world of change, which is what Gypsies know, many of them. She wanted me—” Zamora broke off, and suddenly he saw tears glittering in her eyes.

  “Why, Zamora,” he said, “she’ll be all right.”

  “I don’t think she will. There’s a shadow on her. She could always see it on people who didn’t have long to live, and I have the same gift at times. She won’t live long, and then I’ll be alone.”

  “You’ll have Stefan.”

  “Yes, I’ll have Stefan.”

  Evan reached out and pulled her close. She laid her head against his chest, and he whispered huskily, “And you’ll always have me. As long as I’m around, you’ll never be alone, Zamora.” He felt her body tremble, and then the tears came. She was not a crying woman, he knew, but as he held her, he knew that this was a woman a man could tie to. He would never understand the depth of her gifts, but she had fire and beauty and wisdom, and what else could a man want?

  * * *

  TREMAYNE HAD ONLY A moment for Charity before the rafts shoved off. They were going in the first raft, and he would handle the tiller. He said, “Are you afraid, Charity?”

  “No, not really. God didn’t bring us this far to lose us.” She gave him a smile. “Besides, I’ve got a good man steering the raft.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. If you got some prayers, you’d better say them.”

  “I’ve already started.”

  Tremayne turned to the men on shore and said, “Give us fifteen minutes and then the next raft shove off. Come at fifteen-minute intervals. That’ll give Ringo a chance to pull us all in.”

  “God go with you, my boy,” someone called out.

  And at that, with Gwilym at the bow of the boat with Evan, began to push it out. Casey felt the boat tremble with the power of the river. He steered easily, and the raft floated out to the center. He found it easy enough to steer, and the sun made its bright reflection on the waters. He glanced back and waved to Canreen, who was riding with York, and Canreen waved back. It occurred to him that Canreen had changed on this journey for the better. Then he turned and put his whole attention on steering the raft. They had been afloat for twenty minutes.