Under the Distant Sky (6 page)

“I’m sure Ulysses likes you, too, honey. Now give him back to Patty Ruth.”

Eliza smiled warmly and handed the stuffed bear back, saying, “Thank you, Patty Ruth.”

Patty Ruth managed a weak smile and said, “You’re welcome.”

While Hannah and her youngest were walking home, Hannah said, “Honey, I know you love Ulysses very much, but you mustn’t be selfish with him. Eliza just wanted to hold him and get a good look at him.”

Patty Ruth didn’t reply.

Hannah let a few seconds pass, then said, “If Eliza had been holding a doll, and you liked the looks of it, would you want to hold it and see it up close?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, if you did, would you hurt it?”

“Course not.”

“Well, Eliza wouldn’t either. You need to remember what happened today and understand why it’s important to share with others. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Patty Ruth… Mama wants you to grow up to be generous and loving. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I can be proud of you if you’re selfish?”

“No.”

“Well, let me tell you something I’ve observed in my years on this earth.”

“Okay.”

“Selfishness in a person’s heart eventually makes her very miserable and unhappy. Life is much happier for people who are generous and not selfish. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, Mama. I won’t be selfish anymore.”

“That’s my girl. Both Papa and I will be proud of you, too.”

M
ary Beth Cooper listened intently as Miss Powers stood in front of a large map and showed her students the three main routes west. All routes, she pointed out with pride, started right in Independence at Courthouse Square.

Mary Beth’s thoughts drifted to her parents and their prayers about whether or not to sell out and go west. Oregon sounded like a nice place, as did California. But Mary Beth was having mixed feelings. If they did go west, they would have to act soon, or wait until next year. It was already the last week of April, and Papa had said the wagon trains never left Independence later than the last week of May. That meant the Cooper family might be gone within a month!

At that very moment, Miss Powers was explaining the length of time it took the wagon trains to reach Oregon City or Sacramento. If all went well, and there weren’t any unusual delays, they could make it to Oregon City in twenty-two to twenty-three weeks. The main thing was to get over the mountain ranges no later than the last week of October to safely beat the snow.

Mary Beth’s best friend, Belinda Martin, sat next to her. Mary Beth glanced at Belinda from the corner of her eye. She wanted to move to the exciting frontier, but she didn’t want to
leave her friends. She didn’t want to leave Miss Powers, either. Even though she would be in Mr. Barrick’s class with Christopher next year, she could still see Miss Powers at school every day.

But even more than that, Mary Beth didn’t want to leave Belinda. They belonged to the same church and had been best friends since the Martins came to Independence from Indiana six years ago.

Miss Powers was pointing out the spot on the map some sixty-six miles northwest of Fort Bridger where the Oregon and California Trails divided, explaining that it was known as the Parting of the Ways.

Mary Beth felt a painful lump in her throat. How could she leave her best friend? It would be like going off and leaving her sister.

At that moment, Belinda turned to look at Mary Beth. She could tell something was wrong with her friend. She would just have to wait until recess to ask her about it.

Miss Powers took the rest of the period to discuss the four wagon trains that were forming in Courthouse Square. At ten-thirty, she dismissed the class for the half-hour recess.

Mary Beth rose slowly from her desk as Belinda waited beside her. When their eyes met, Belinda flicked a glance at Miss Powers, who was answering a student’s question, then leaned close to her best friend and whispered, “Mary Beth, what’s wrong? I saw tears in your eyes.”

“Let’s go outside,” Mary Beth said.

They walked outside and made their way to a back corner of the white frame building.

Mary Beth’s lips quivered slightly as she said, “Belinda, Mama and Papa are getting serious about joining a wagon train and moving west.”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t stand it if you moved away!”

“It’s bothering me, too. I… I know my parents won’t make
the move unless the Lord leads them. But if He does, then we’ll never see each other again. Not in this world, anyway.”

Now there were tears in Belinda’s eyes too. She shook her head and said, “I’m going to pray that the Lord will keep you here.”

“I’m not sure how to pray, Belinda. I’m just praying that if it’s God’s will for us to go, He’ll give me the grace and strength to handle it. It will mean leaving my Grandma and Grandpa, as well as you and all my other friends. I would just flat pray that God won’t let us go, but Papa seems to really have his heart set on it.”

When school let out that afternoon, Mary Beth reminded Chris and B. J. that this was her day to go to the store and do paperwork for Papa.

Fifteen minutes later, Mary Beth moved along the boardwalk in town, noting the wagon train people on the street. As she entered Cooper’s General Store, she had to thread her way through the men, women, and children to reach the long counter where her father and Randy Chase were selling merchandise.

When she rounded the end of the counter and headed for the small desk next to a filing cabinet, Randy looked up and greeted her.

“Oh, hello, honey,” Solomon said, diverting his attention momentarily from the line of customers. “Everything’s ready for you there. Invoices on the last shipment from Chicago are in the top drawer.”

“Okay, Papa.”

While Mary Beth made entries in her father’s record book, she couldn’t help looking up periodically to watch the people from the wagon trains. She could see the excitement in their
eyes and hear it in their voices.

The desk sat beside a window, and outside on the street, Mary Beth could see and hear the children laughing and playing while men and women loaded their wagons with supplies purchased at the store. Inside, as women made their way among the long rows of goods, picking and choosing supplies, she listened to their talk.

The women didn’t show the same enthusiasm about the upcoming journey as the men and children. They talked about their fears, yet underneath their words, Mary Beth could see some degree of anticipation of building a new life on the frontier.

Twelve-year-old Mary Beth told herself that women were just more level-headed than men and children when it came to these things. By the end of the afternoon, she understood better why her mother was somewhat reluctant to sell out, pack up, and move west.

On Saturday morning, a small crowd of citizens gathered at Courthouse Square to watch the first wagon train pull out. The second one was scheduled to depart on Monday, and the other two would leave later in the week. Even before the last trains were gone, there would be more trains forming.

Christopher and Mary Beth were working at the store with Randy Chase so that Solomon, along with others, could help put the finishing touches on the Beatty house.

The new house was really shaping up, and the wives gathered inside the house at eleven-fifteen to begin preparing a hearty lunch for their hardworking men.

The children who were old enough worked right alongside their fathers. B. J. was picking up chunks of wood after Solomon sawed boards for trimming the windows of the two-story
house and piling it behind the house to be used for firewood.

Patty Ruth was playing with some other little girls in the front yard, the ever-present Ulysses cradled in one arm.

Pastor Dan Chase and his wife, Miriam, were there, too. The pastor was high at the top of the sharply-pitched roof, helping Jack Lennox finish nailing trim along the peak.

Jack Lennox’s wife, Lucinda, was Hannah Cooper’s closest friend. They were the same age, and of much the same temperament. They often spent time together sewing, making fancy things for their houses, and just enjoying each others company. They also prayed and studied the Bible together.

In the kitchen, Hannah was working at one end of the cupboard with Lucinda and Miriam Chase, cutting vegetables. The other seven women were busily working in twos and threes, each little group in its own conversation.

“I sure don’t envy those poor women,” Miriam said. “I’ve read a lot about the wagon trains. I can understand why some of the families turn around and come back before they even get two or three days out. It’s just too hard for those wives and mothers to cope with crying babies, cranky children, weary, footsore husbands, the Indians, living in a wagon, cooking over a campfire, sleeping on the ground, and on and on…”

“Yes,” Lucinda said, “and for half a year or so.”

“And not to mention the heat and the dust,” Miriam added, “plus trying to launder clothes for the family in some half-dried-up stream, or in a buffalo wash where the water is filthy.”

Lucinda noticed Hannah’s quietness and eyed her cautiously. “Hannah, Solomon hasn’t been pressing you again about packing up and going west, has he?”

Hannah paused after cutting an onion in half. “Well, honey, the two of us have talked about it some more. But he’s not pressing me. Solomon would never try to force such a thing
on me. If such a decision were ever made, it would be
our
decision.”

Miriam frowned. “But the two of you are considering it, Hannah?”

Hannah attempted a noncommittal tone. “Well, we’ve been discussing it, yes. But we’ve also been praying about it. We’re in total agreement that—”

“Mama!” B. J. burst into the kitchen, holding up his left hand. “I’ve got a splinter!”

The eight-year-old had everyone’s attention as Hannah took hold of his hand, focusing on the dirty forefinger that held a thin, needle-like piece of wood. It was angled in for about an inch, and blood was welling around it.

While B. J. gritted his teeth, Hannah pulled him over to a chair. “Sit down here, son. I’ll see if I can get it out.”

Helen Beatty moved in. “I have some tweezers, Hannah.”

“Let me see if I can pull it out without breaking it off. If it breaks, I’ll use the tweezers.”

Hannah grasped her son’s wrist and slowly and delicately slid out the splinter. “There! That wasn’t too bad, was it, B. J.? Helen, if you have a cloth I can use to wrap this, I’ll take him home and clean the wound.”

“I have everything you need right here,” Helen said, heading for a cabinet at the end of the kitchen.

When Hannah had finished and B. J. had gone back outside with his finger bandaged, Miriam looked at Hannah and chuckled. “I do declare, Hannah, that boy is an accident looking for a place to happen. Have we ever had a church get-together of any kind, but what B. J. didn’t scrape something or cut something or break something?”

Hannah laughed. “Not that I can remember!”

Up on the roof, Jack Lennox and the preacher had finished their task at one end and were carrying their materials toward the other.

Solomon looked at them briefly and then glanced toward the rear of the house. B. J. should have been back by now, he thought. Less than a minute later, B. J. approached, pushing the empty wheelbarrow. When Solomon saw the white bandage, he stopped sawing. “What happened, son?”

B. J. explained and told him that Mama had taken care of it.

“Well, B. J., you need to be more caref—”

Solomon’s words were cut off by the sound of a cry, accompanied by the rumble of materials bouncing off the roof. Pastor Chase, who was on the opposite end of the roof from Jack Lennox watched helplessly as Jack pitched headlong, arms flailing.

Solomon dropped his saw and limped toward the house as fast as he could, trying to get underneath the falling man and break his fall.

But Jack peeled off the edge of the roof and fell to the ground head-first before Solomon could get there. Other men on that side of the house dashed toward the spot where Solomon had dropped to his knees beside Jack.