Hannah's Hanky (Clover Creek Caravan Book 1), Page 3

  “My mother is obedient to Mr. Gatlin, and she seems to have lost herself in that obedience. Where there used to be a woman who would laugh and joke and have fun, now there is this meek little thing that responds to everything her husband wants and needs.”

  He looked at her for a moment, thinking about what she’d said. He’d noticed her mother didn’t speak much. “I don’t want you to be that way. I just don’t want you to try to argue with everything I say either.”

  “I’ll do my best not to argue. I really will. But I think we should discuss things like rational adults instead of you just telling me how things are going to be. Why would I want to be tied to a man who thought he could think for me and run my life for me?”

  He nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. Shall we continue?” He offered her his arm, and they walked the rest of the way to the campground in silence. “I’ll introduce you to Captain Bedwell this evening. I’ve already told him that you’ll be joining our wagon train.”

  “Good. That will make things easier, won’t it?” Hannah stopped in the middle of the circle of wagons. “If everyone is ready to go, why aren’t we leaving until Monday?”

  “There are many theories on the best time to start out for Oregon, and this particular wagon master thinks that April first is the best time, so we’re waiting until Monday to go, which is still a few days before the first, but since he hopes to stop every Sunday for worship, clothes washing and to rest the animals, he wanted to start out a few days early rather than late.”

  “Does the month you leave in really matter that much? I’ve seen people leave as late as June.”

  “And some think June is better, but if we leave in June, there’s no way we’ll reach Oregon before snows fly. It makes sense to leave around the first of April to me.”

  She shrugged. “I guess that I don’t have a real opinion on the matter. Would you be willing to go to my mother’s house for supper on Sunday before we go? She’ll want to see me one last time, if possible. We could always sleep there until we leave as well.”

  “No, I need to be with my wagon, and as my wife, you need to be with me.” He walked toward Captain Bedwell’s wagon to introduce her, hoping she wouldn’t try and pick a fight with him again. She seemed to be a normal red head—one who would argue just for the sake of arguing.

  The captain, his wife, and two sons were all sitting around their campfire. His wife looked a bit peaked, and they hadn’t even started the journey yet. He could tell the woman wasn’t going to do well on such an arduous journey. He promised himself he’d add her to his prayer journal that very evening.

  “Captain Bedwell. I want to present to you my wife, Hannah Scott.”

  Hannah wanted to wrinkle her nose at the name, but she was able to control her reactions. It didn’t seem fair to her that a woman gave up her identity to join with a man, yet he gave up nothing. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain.”

  “And you, Mrs. Scott. The pastor here told me just last night he was getting married, and we’re happy to have you along.” He smiled a bit. “My wife is happy for every woman who joins the wagon train. She has been fretting for months that she would be the only one.”

  Hannah squatted down beside the older woman. “It’s good to have other women along for me as well, Mrs. Bedwell. Are you feeling ill this evening?”

  Mrs. Bedwell frowned. “I’ve never been in the best of health. I’m just feeling a bit poorly because of all the time we’re spending outside.”

  “I can understand that. I guess it’s part of life on the trail, though, isn’t it?” Hannah promised herself she’d look out for this woman. She just didn’t seem up to the journey.

  Captain Bedwell laughed, a loud booming laugh that startled Hannah for just a moment. “She’s a lot stronger than she looks. She’s going to do just fine on the trail. You’ll see.”

  “I hope you’re right, Captain.” Inside, Hannah was angry with the man for dragging a timid, sickly woman along with him. He certainly hadn’t given her a choice, and that wasn’t fair at all. Why did men think they had the right to run women’s lives without them saying yes or no? It simply made her ready to scream.

  Jedediah was already starting to be able to tell when Hannah was upset about something, and he knew she didn’t approve of the captain dragging his wife along the trail with him.

  He smiled sweetly at his wife. “Let’s go get your trunk, my dear.”

  It seemed strange to Hannah to hear the endearment from him, but she wasn’t about to argue. No, instead she’d go along meekly, since they were around people they would know. She would tell him exactly how she felt about the situation, but not until there was no one around to listen.

  She wouldn’t bring him shame with her forward-thinking ways, but she wasn’t about to let people be mistreated without her husband getting an earful at the very least.

  As they walked to their wagon, she was very quiet, trying to think of just the right words to tell him how she felt about things. When they got into the wagon and drove away from camp, her words were freed, and she no longer tried to swallow them.

  “I don’t think Captain Bedwell should be trying to take a sickly wife on the trail with him, do you? I feel deep down inside that it’s the wrong thing for her, but he doesn’t seem to care. Isn’t he the man who agreed to love, honor, and cherish her as long as they both shall live?”

  Jedediah took a deep breath. “I could tell exactly what you were thinking while we were at their campfire. Thank you for not saying anything in front of them. It wouldn’t have gone well.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t shame you that way. I just think he’s a horrible person for the way he treats her, and he should be flogged. There. Now I feel better for having spoken my mind. Don’t you feel better knowing that I’m not hiding my feelings from you?”

  He grinned. “You are a typical red head, aren’t you?”

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean? That red heads have tempers? Well, yes, I do have a temper, and I’m not ashamed of it in any way.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him. “Speaking of my temper, I think your name is too long, and I’d like to shorten it to Jed. Would you be amenable to that?”

  He chuckled softly. “I grew up being called Jed, so the name would be just fine. It’s much easier to spell as well.”

  She nodded. “I’m going to be keeping a journal of our travels. Mother gifted me a journal that she bought right after marrying my father, but she never got around to writing in it. I’d like to gift it to our children someday, and have it filled, so they could know how their parents’ life was before they came around.”

  He nodded. “I’m keeping a journal of the trail as well. It won’t hurt if we both keep one. It won’t hurt one lick.”

  “I’m glad you agree. I’ll start writing in mine tonight.”

  “I started mine when I left Illinois. I went to school there, and spent a month at home with my family, and then left for Independence. My professors told us that there was a huge need for pastors out west, so that’s where I’m going. West.”

  “And as your semi-obedient wife, I’ll go with you. Just don’t expect me to pander to your every mood or act like I hang on your every word.” Hannah shook her head. “When my mother started doing that with Mr. Gatlin, I was certain I’d vomit any moment.”

  He chuckled softly and stopped the wagon in front of her parents’ house. He knew now that he hadn’t found himself an obedient wife, but he had found a spirited one. He wasn’t sure which was better just yet, but he couldn’t complain about the wife he had. She certainly seemed more suited for the trail than Mrs. Bedwell.

  When they walked into her mother’s home, she called out, “Mother, I need help!”

  Her mother was there in an instant. “What do you need?”

  “Jed says I’m not allowed to take two trunks. I can take one packed trunk and I can put the things from the other trunk in an oil cloth bag.”

&nbs
p; “I see. Well, I have an oil cloth bag that I use for transporting food to women who have recently given birth. I’m happy to give it to you. Let’s pack up the bag.” Mrs. Gatlin hurried off and came back with a large ugly bag, while Hannah dropped to her knees and opened one of her trunks. She quickly began removing things that would go into the bag, and put them in while her mother held the bag open. What had taken them hours to painstakingly pack now only took minutes as they shoved everything into the bag. “You’ll stay for supper?” Mrs. Gatlin asked as they finished with the bag and she tied it closed at the top.

  “No, but thank you, Mrs. Gatlin. Hannah would like to return for supper on Sunday evening, so she can say goodbye. Until then, we’ll eat at the camp with the others in the wagon train. We’re all getting to know one another, and it wouldn’t be good if we weren’t part of the time before the trail. We’ll need each other once the wagons roll out, so we’ll want friends.” Jed explained quickly why they couldn’t stay. It was as much so he could spend time alone with his new wife as anything else, though.

  He hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder, and Hannah put the bag over hers. “I’ll see you on Sunday,” Hannah said with a bright smile as she followed her husband out of the house. Life was getting strange very quickly. Soon, she’d be on the road with only the others in the wagon train for companionship. Hopefully there would be someone near her age she could quickly become friends with. She’d make it happen. Soon.

  Three

  That evening, they had a small party at camp. One of the men Hannah hadn’t met yet—James Prewitt—who went by Jamie got his guitar out, and played. Malcolm Bentley, a blacksmith going west to seek his fortune, immediately got his fiddle, and he played with Jamie. The two of them had obviously played together once or twice, because their music meshed nicely.

  As soon as the music started, Jed held his hand out to Hannah. “Would you care to dance?”

  They’d already stowed Hannah’s things in the wagon, and Hannah had made her first supper over a campfire. She felt like it was an utter disaster, though Jed had eaten every bite and asked for more. He said he was used to his own cooking and very happy to eat something that wasn’t burned for a change.

  She smiled and nodded. She’d always loved to dance, though her step-father had decided it was wicked, and she hadn’t been allowed to dance at all in the year that he’d been married to her mother. “I would enjoy that.”

  Hannah went into his arms, and he danced her around the campfire to a wild, rambunctious tune. At the end of the dance, she had a stitch in her side and laughter on her lips. “That was fun, but I’m afraid I already need to sit down for a moment. I wasn’t expecting such a wild dance.”

  He smiled, taking her over to the tree stump she’d been using as a chair. “They’ve played music every night for the past week as we’ve camped here. Sometimes people will pull out a deck of cards and play games. It’s truly been a fun experience.”

  “I’m glad you told me we had to stay here then. I’m excited to know all the others we’ll be traveling with. I hope we can make some life-long friends on this journey of ours. I’m not great at meeting people, though, so I might need your help.”

  Jed grinned, sitting on the ground next to her stump. “I think Mary Mitchell is about your age. She’s accompanying her parents and younger siblings on the trail.” He pointed in the direction of a young woman, who was sitting with a large group of children. “She’s the eldest of seven or eight. I’m not sure which.”

  “Wow. I cannot imagine having so many siblings I was traveling with. Please tell me they brought more than one wagon.”

  He nodded. “There was a young man wanting to go west, Bob Hastings, and he’s driving their second wagon. I’m not sure what the financial arrangement is between them, but a lot of families will hire someone to drive a second wagon, but they pay them in food.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve lived in Independence my entire life, and I never knew any of the things you know about the trail.”

  “You had no reason to learn them. I wanted to know exactly what I was getting into.” He shrugged. “Our wagon train is going to try to stop every Sunday, and I’m going to preach Sunday services.”

  “Oh! I didn’t think we’d be able to have church on the trail. I’m thankful you’re here.” She smiled at him. “Well, since you’re the only reason I’m going, I think I’m thankful you’re here for that too.” She felt a strange need to flirt with him, as she’d seen other girls do with men so often. There was just something about him that was awfully special.

  He laughed, finding her much prettier when she was smiling that way. “Do you want to go around and have me introduce you to everyone?” He wanted her to be as comfortable in camp as he was.

  She shook her head. “Not quite yet. We’ll have time tomorrow, won’t we?”

  “Plenty of time. I’m thrilled with the time to get to know all the others, and even each other. Once we start on the trail, it’s going to be long, hard days.”

  Hannah nodded. “Maybe you can spend some time tomorrow teaching me to drive the team as well. What did you name the oxen?”

  “They’re work animals. I didn’t name them.”

  “What?” she asked. “We need to name them!”

  He shook his head. “Next thing I know you’re going to make me name all the other cows.”

  She looked at him with surprise. “We have cows?” Hannah had always preferred animals to people and knowing she and her husband had cows was thrilling to her.

  “I’m taking three with us to Oregon. A bull and two heifers.” He sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to suggest naming the cows.

  “We do need to name them then!” Hannah grinned. “I love animals. I had a cat before my mother remarried. Mr. Gatlin said Mr. Whiskers made him sneeze, and I had to find him a new home. It broke my heart.”

  Jed shook his head. “I’m sorry you lost your cat.” Hopefully, if he grabbed onto that part of the conversation, she wouldn’t still talk about naming the work animals.

  “So tomorrow, I’m going to need to meet all the animals. I want to name them all. Since you haven’t done so, I’m going to claim the privilege for myself.”

  “Someone who named a cat ‘Mr. Whiskers’ doesn’t need to be naming other critters,” he mumbled.

  “I heard that!” she said, glaring at him. “Mr. Whiskers was a perfectly good name. I refuse to believe otherwise.”

  He groaned. “Please don’t make me drive a wagon pulled by Mr. Smart Hoofs, and his wife, Mrs. Smart Hoofs.”

  She giggled. “I kind of like those names. Do we have a boy ox and a girl ox?”

  He simply shook his head. The woman knew nothing about farm life, and it was already obvious. “I’ll introduce you to all of the animals tomorrow, and we’ll make some decisions then.” And he suddenly had an idea for the perfect gift for his new wife. He wouldn’t say anything, because he might not have time to make it work, but he would try. “We have two days before we leave. We’ll spend a little time tomorrow teaching you to drive the wagon, and we’ll make sure you can find all the supplies easily. Are you a coffee drinker?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, I like to sip on it all day, warm or cold.”

  “Good. Rumor has it that people who drink coffee tend not to get as sick on the trail. I have no idea if it’s true, but I’m certainly willing to drink only coffee if it’ll make it more likely for us to reach our destination.”

  “I wonder why.” Hannah had heard the same things said, but she had never been able to fathom what the difference was. What miracle was in the coffee bean to keep people living longer? Whatever it was, she would drink coffee and nothing else on their journey.

  “Are you close to ready for bed?” he asked. He hadn’t been paying much attention, but the camp was quiet now, and people were bedding down for the night.

  “I need to write in my journal, and then yes, I’ll be ready.” She hurried to the wagon and climbed in
the back, opening her trunk and removing her journal, an inkwell and pen.

  Using her trunk as a chair, she opened the journal in her lap, dipped her pen in the ink, and began writing.

  March 26, 1852

  I married today. My groom is Jedediah Scott, a preacher. I’ve decided to call him Jed, because Jedediah is such a mouthful.

  Our wedding was arranged by my step-father, Mr. Gatlin. At first, I was very upset at the prospect of marrying a stranger and being expected to travel the Oregon Trail with him, but now I’m excited for the adventure of it all.

  Jed is a kind, caring man, who knows that I will never blindly obey him, and he seems content with that. I have no desire to turn into my mother, someone who has been completely cowed by her husband.

  Tonight, we sat in camp, dancing to the music played by Jamie Prewitt (guitar) and Malcolm Bentley (fiddle.) Both are bachelors headed for new lives in the Oregon Territory. We leave Monday for this amazing journey, and we are thankful for the opportunity. I’m a little nervous, but I plan to be as careful as I can. I look forward to getting to know my new husband and all of the adventures we will encounter for the rest of our days.

  After finishing her quick journal entry, she looked around her. Were they supposed to sleep in the wagon or on the ground outside? Suddenly, she missed her bed a great deal more than she’d imagined she would.

  Digging in her trunk again, she pulled out a blanket, a quilt, and a pillow. She noticed that Jed had set up a small tent, and he was spreading his own bedding on the ground inside it, and that seemed logical for her. No one seemed to be worrying about wearing a nightgown, so she quickly changed into a simple calico day-dress her mother had made for her when she’d volunteered at the local orphanage in town, and she got down out of the wagon and laid out her bedding.

  She put her bedding close to Jed’s wanting to save him the shame of not sleeping close to his wife on their wedding night. She was not willing to participate in the marriage act with him—especially not with so many people around—but she wouldn’t hurt his pride if she could at all help it.