The Complete Oregon Series, page 35
“Where’s Amy?” Bernice asked when Jacob walked back to his own wagon.
Nora pointed at the wagon with the end of her whip. “In there, with Luke. They’re taking a nap.” It was the only way to get both of them to settle down for some much-needed rest.
Bernice tugged at her sunbonnet. She eyed Nora’s wagon. “Don’t you have any misgivings about letting Amy spend so much time with Luke?”
Nora gently prodded Snow White to make the ox move more to the left. She still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that her husband had turned out to be a woman, but Nora had no reservations about Luke spending time with Amy. “Why should I? Bernice, you’ve seen Luke with Amy. Do you really think that Amy has anything to fear from her?” She couldn’t believe that Bernice would think such a thing.
“What? No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… Aren’t you the least bit afraid that Luke is going to influence her? I mean, it’s obvious that Amy worships her. What if Amy models herself after her?”
“Then I’d be a happy mother.” She didn’t want Amy to choose a life where she had to hide a part of herself, but she did want her to become a kind, courageous, and honorable person like Luke.
Bernice lifted her eyebrows.
“I grew up with a father who constantly belittled me if he paid me any attention at all—just because I was not a boy. I know that Luke would never do that to…” Nora stopped herself. She had almost said “our children.” She rubbed her face to chase away the blush. “…to Amy or the baby.”
“You’re really planning to let them grow up thinking that Luke is their father?” Bernice shook her head.
“I don’t know. At this point, I don’t have a plan,” Nora said. She had avoided thinking about her long-term future. She hadn’t thought further than reaching Oregon City. And how could I when I don’t even know what Luke wants? The most important thing in Luke’s life is to be regarded as a man. I don’t think she’s willing to risk that by sharing her life with two children who don’t understand the importance of keeping a secret.
Bernice pointed at Nora’s swollen belly. “Then I think it’s time to make some plans. This baby is not gonna wait until you figure it all out.”
Nora groaned and covered her face with both hands for a moment. “I know, I know.”
“Nora?” Luke stuck her head out of the wagon. “Are you all right?”
Nora let her hands drop and looked up at Luke. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Luke’s concerned gaze traveled down to Nora’s belly. “I’ll take over with the oxen, and you—”
“No. I told you, I’m fine. Is Amy still sleeping?” Nora asked. Her usually active daughter was suspiciously quiet since she had climbed into the wagon with Luke.
“No. We’re reading a story,” Luke said, giving her a crooked grin.
Nora stared at her. “You are reading to her?” She wasn’t sure what she found more amazing: That Luke was willing or that she was able to do that.
“Well, what I can’t read, I improvise. Amy doesn’t mind.” Luke rubbed her shoulder.
“Stop scratching,” Nora said for the hundredth time that day.
“But it’s itching like h—” With a quick glance over her shoulder at Amy, Luke stopped herself. “It’s itching very much.”
Nora nodded. “That means it’s healing, and your scratching will only disturb the healing process. I’ll check the wound as soon as we stop for the night.”
Without another word, Luke disappeared inside the wagon again.
“For a woman who didn’t even want to touch Luke when she was bleeding to death, you’re taking this awfully well,” Bernice said. “As often as you check the wound, hers must be the best-treated wound ever.”
Nora gazed down, hoping that her sunbonnet would cover her blush. She’s making it sound as if I like treating the wound…seeing Luke half-naked. “I just want to prevent the wound from getting infected, that’s all,” she said. “If left to her own devices, Luke would change the bandage once a week and be done with it.” Each time, it took longer to convince Luke to take off her shirt than to check and rebandage the wound. Nora still wasn’t sure whether Luke was uncomfortable with her own body or only with Nora seeing it.
“In other words, she’s the typical man,” Bernice said, her gaze resting on the wagon where Luke had disappeared. “It’s still so hard to believe that she’s not…”
Don’t I know it. Sometimes, Nora woke up and when she looked at Luke, who was sleeping just a few feet away, she could almost convince herself that it had all been just a dream. Once or twice, when her disbelief became too intense to handle, she had even touched the cheek of the sleeping woman, finding it as smooth and hairless as her own. Maybe this was one of the reasons why she insisted on a daily change of Luke’s bandage—each time, it drove home the reality of who Luke really was.
The hill they were climbing was getting steeper and steeper, and Nora stopped talking and worrying for a while, trying to concentrate solely on driving the wagon.
Flagstaff Hill,
September 9th, 1851
The wagons clattered up the stony road. Luke winced every time her shoulder was jostled. When she couldn’t stand the stuffy air in the wagon anymore, she pulled up the cover and peeked outside.
All she saw was the back of the Buchanans’ wagon in front of them. The wagons were traveling single file over the worst road they had encountered so far.
Curses drifted over from the front of the wagon train, where some of the men were hacking their way through thickets of bush with axes.
Luke gritted her teeth. She was still too weak to help with that.
Water splashed as they crossed the Burnt River for the ninth time, trying to find the best route.
When a wave of water hit Amy, who sat on the wagon seat, she squeaked and leaned a bit too far to the side for Luke’s liking.
“Amy, come back here and keep me company,” Luke called. At least she could keep an eye on Amy while Nora guided their oxen through the river.
Amy scrambled up from the seat, crawled over a sack of corn, and joined Luke in the back of the wagon. She tugged on Luke’s sleeve. “I want a story, Papa.”
“A story? You want me to read to you again?” Luke reluctantly reached for Nora’s book of fairy tales. She still couldn’t read very well, but Amy probably wouldn’t be able to tell when she was improvising.
“No.” Amy’s red curls flew as she shook her head. “You tell me a story.”
Luke swallowed. When she had been a child, no one had read her bedtime stories, so she didn’t know how to tell one. “Sorry, Amy, but I don’t know any stories.”
“Please!”
Luke couldn’t resist the pleading gaze. “All right.” She scratched her neck. What should she tell Amy? The only stories she knew were the war stories her former comrades told around the campfire, but she doubted they were suitable for children. “What kind of story do you want?”
“A horse story.” Amy clapped her hands and leaned against Luke, expectantly looking up at her.
Luke wiped her brow. “A horse story. Hmm. Well, let’s see.” She tried to remember how Nora’s fairy tales usually started. “Once upon a time there was a horse.”
“Measles,” Amy said.
“Um, yes, Measles.” Luke mentally apologized to her trusted mare. “Like all horses, she loved to be in the company of other horses and she wanted a family of her own, so she set out to travel across the country to a faraway place called Oregon, where she wanted to raise beautiful foals and—”
The wagon slowed and then stopped.
Oh, thank God. Had they finally reached the summit of Flagstaff Hill, where they would camp for the night? The beautiful valley below would surely distract Amy until she forgot about the story.
“Luke,” Nora called from the front of the wagon. Her voice sounded strained.
Luke squeezed past Amy and stuck her head out of the wagon.
Nora stood with one hand pressed to her back while she rubbed her eyes with the other.
“Everything all right?” Luke asked. “Is the baby—?”
“The baby is fine. But Snow White isn’t.”
Luke climbed down from the wagon and took a glance at the ox.
The animal’s flanks were heaving like a pair of bellows. Its legs trembled.
Dammit. Luke trailed her hand along the ox’s side and walked around it. Snow White’s eyes were dull. Luke looked up and met Nora’s gaze. She shook her head. “He won’t make it up Flagstaff Hill.”
Nora pressed her lips together. “Is there anything we can do to help him?”
Luke shook her head. “Why don’t you take Amy and stay with the Garfields for a few minutes while I take care of this?”
The muscles in Nora’s neck moved as she swallowed. Then she nodded.
“Tom,” Luke called to the wagon in front of them. “Tell the others to stop and wait for us.” She helped Amy down from the wagon and watched them walk away. Using just her right hand, she unyoked Snow White and directed him to the side.
The ox took a stumbling step, then, with a groan that sounded almost human, he sank to his knees.
Luke touched the ox’s damp neck and looked into the cloudy eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She curled her fingers into a fist, then opened them again. Gritting her teeth, she drew her revolver, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.
The shot echoed through the mountains.
Luke stood with her head bent for a moment before she took a deep breath and forced herself to move away. They couldn’t afford to waste time.
When she turned, Nora was herding one of their spare oxen toward the wagon. “I left Amy with Bernice,” she said, her voice choked. Tears glittered in her eyes as she looked at Snow White’s still body, but she didn’t let them fall. She yoked the ox, waited until Luke had climbed back into the wagon, and drove the team past their fallen comrade.
Luke watched her, admiring Nora’s strength and her compassion in equal measures.
Nora struggled up the hill.
“Want me to take over for a while?” Luke asked.
“No, thanks,” Nora said. “You’re still recovering.” She marched on, not allowing the oxen or herself to rest. Only when they reached the summit of Flagstaff Hill, she paused and looked down at the beautiful Baker Valley, covered with purple sage and colorful wildflowers.
Luke did her best to help with setting up camp. Hours later, she volunteered for guard duty, happy that she had finally found something she could do despite her healing wound. She stared up at the night sky, breathing into her hands to keep them warm.
Everything was quiet in camp. Only a few of the women were still awake.
Emmy Larson lifted a pot of beans for tomorrow’s noon meal over the fire.
Luke’s first instinct was to jump up and take over the task, knowing that the pot was quite heavy. But Nora had needed to rebandage the wound twice already because Luke wanted to “play gentleman,” as Nora had put it, and she wouldn’t be amused if she had to do it a third time. So Luke stayed where she was and simply watched the women at work.
Again, it occurred to her that the women didn’t need her help. They got up at four every morning—an hour before the men—to cook breakfast, milk the cows, and gather eggs. And every night, they were still working while their husbands already rested around the fire.
Except for her childhood in a brothel, Luke had never lived in close quarters with women before. As a ranch hand and later as a soldier, she had worked and lived with men and had seen women only from afar. During this journey, she had developed a healthy respect for the pioneer women and what they endured without complaining. For the first time, she realized how strong women could be. Women, she realized, were not the weak, helpless creatures that she had feared to become if she ever gave up her disguise. Most of them were tough and courageous, and Luke admired their gentle strength.
And, Luke admitted to herself, Nora was the woman she admired the most.
Even though Nora’s feet were swollen, she was still up, preparing tomorrow’s meals.
“Stop,” Luke said when Nora passed her, carrying a pile of laundry. “If you do one more thing tonight, I’m gonna get up and help you, the wound be damned. Sit down and rest.”
“But the laundry—”
“Will still be there tomorrow,” Luke said. “You’re pregnant, exhausted, and miserable. You need to rest.”
With a groan, Nora gave up and sank down next to Luke. She bent down, trying to reach her swollen feet to massage them, but her belly got in the way.
Luke watched her fruitless attempts for a while. “Come on.” She waved at Nora’s feet. “I’ll rub them for you.”
“No, no, you don’t have to do that.”
“You’re carrying my child. It’s the least I can do.” Luke winked at her.
Nora gave her a small smile and lifted one of her feet onto Luke’s lap. “Lord,” she murmured, “with all the walking I’ve done during the last few months, this baby is gonna be able to walk when she is born.”
“She?” Luke repeated with a grin. She gently pressed her thumbs against the sole of Nora’s foot. “I thought you were sure it’s gonna be a boy? Or are you having twins?”
Nora crossed herself. “God, no. To have one newborn during the first winter in Oregon is gonna be hard enough.”
Luke nodded while she slid her fingers over Nora’s ankle and began to knead her calf.
A long moan rose up Nora’s chest.
The sound made Luke shiver. She forced her thoughts away from the soft skin under her hands and back to the topic of conversation. “Yeah. One baby is gonna put me in enough of a panic as it is.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Nora’s grin momentarily chased the exhaustion from her face. “Fathering twins—now that would bolster your manly image.”
Luke tweaked her big toe. She had to grin, and it occurred to her that this was the first time that someone had made fun of her life in disguise and she had been able to share the mirth. With Nora, it didn’t feel like scorn and mockery, but like a shared secret. Instead of driving them apart as Luke had feared, it was beginning to bind them closer together.
“Do you think we’ll make it?”
At the whispered question, Luke turned her head to look at Nora.
Nora’s smile was gone. The forest green eyes were dark and worried as she glanced west toward the snow-covered Blue Mountains rising up in the distance. Her hands cradled her belly.
Luke fought the impulse to bend down and kiss the foot resting on her lap. Instead, she smoothed her hand over it in a gesture of comfort. “Yeah, we will.” She looked directly into Nora’s eyes, letting her see her determination.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I traveled the Oregon Trail three times before, and I made it every time,” Luke said.
Nora shoulders slumped. “Yeah, but you didn’t have a pregnant woman and a small child with you the other times.”
“But I also didn’t have the kind of motivation to reach Oregon that I have now.” Luke had said it before she could stop herself. She hadn’t wanted to say anything that would make Nora believe that they would share their lives as a family in Oregon—not when she wasn’t sure if it was what Nora wanted or what would be good for her. She wasn’t even sure if it was what she wanted. “I mean, this time, I’m the captain. A whole wagon train is depending on me.”
“The whole wagon train. Yeah.” Nora moved her foot away from Luke’s lap. “I’m tired. I’m turning in now.”
Luke blinked at the abrupt end of their conversation and watched her walk away. Slowly, one woman after the other went to bed until Luke sat alone at the fire.
Sudden footsteps behind her made her jerk around, her rifle raised.
“Relax, relax. It’s only me, Bernice Garfield,” the older woman’s voice came out of the darkness.
Luke put the rifle down and exhaled. She had been coiled tightly during the last week, constantly on the lookout not only for hostile Indians or nature’s dangers but also keeping an eye on her fellow travelers, afraid that they would discover her secret.
Now it was Bernice of all people who was searching her out. Luke had avoided her since being wounded. At first, it hadn’t been too difficult since she had been confined to her wagon, but now that she was slowly healing and back on her feet again, it was becoming more complicated to avoid the people who knew her secret. While she had managed to avoid Bernice so far, she couldn’t avoid Nora. She had to live every second of every day with Nora’s appraising glances. She constantly wondered what Nora was seeing and thinking when she looked at her like that. Trusting someone to protect her secret, her very life, was scary.
Bernice sat down facing her.
Luke held her breath. She met Bernice’s gaze across the fire, then quickly looked away.
“What are your plans once you reach Oregon?” Bernice asked, not bothering to open the conversation with small talk about the weather or the country ahead of them.
“I want to establish a horse ranch in a green, hilly area a few miles southwest of Oregon City. I’m going to breed Appaloosa horses, like Measles, you know?” Luke pointed in the general direction of her mare.
Still, the intense gaze didn’t follow her gesture. It remained fixed on her. “I’m not talking about horses. I’m talking about Nora and her children. What will become of them? A woman in her condition needs stability, a home, a husband, not this…this whole confusing situation.”
Luke shoved a twig into the fire with more force than necessary. “I know.”
“Nora is like a little sister to me, and I won’t have her hurt by the likes of you,” Bernice said.
