Read Journey of Hope: A Novel of Triumph and Heartbreak on the Oregon Trail in 1852 for Free Online Page B

sagely.
    “She’s really scared,” Brenna said.
    “I should go and help them.”
    “No, you should stay right here,” and she put a protective hand on her brother’s shoulder.
    For a while, it looked like they might see the first capsize of the day, and they could clearly hear the refined aristocratic young woman use language that would make a grown man blush. One woman covered the ears of her young son.
    Once they made it to a stable sand bar, Emily and Nellie jumped out of the boat and waded across the rest of the muddy and shallow river. When they finally reached the far shore, Emily angrily trudged past the group of onlookers, dragging the muddy and sodden hem of her cornflower blue dress. Ernest watched her rigid back as she moved toward a stand of trees. He ran after her and they had heated words. Abel Brown watched and a cynical smile spread over his lips.
    Soon, Ernest emerged from the trees and helped the men bring their wagon across the final distance of the river.
    Emily found a shady and secluded bower and collapsed in a flood of frustrated tears. She had never felt so humiliated, and she was sure all of the other women regarded her as a child. She was shaking from anger at her husband for forcibly making her cross in the manner that he had, but she felt relief at the realization that she hadn’t drowned after all. It was a few minutes before she was able to compose herself and breathe more normally.
    She looked at her dress. It was very wet and dirty. She searched for a dry part of her sleeve to wipe her face. She would never forgive Ernest for this. She could still hear the men snickering and see the disdainful expressions on the faces of the women as she had stormed past them. She had a mind to take a horse and ride back to Independence. She was a fine horsewoman, and she had been riding almost since she was able to walk. From Independence, she could catch a train to Ohio. She spent a few minutes enjoying this fantasy while her breathing calmed.
    She was abruptly brought out of her self-pitying reverie by the sound of her husband calling to her. He had come to the edge of the trees.
    “Emily, it’s time to load up.”
    “You load up,” she muttered miserably. Then she pictured what the wagon would look like if Ernest loaded it. That thought motivated her to get up and find her way to their wagon.
    Buster yipped and leaped up happily into her arms when he saw her. She hugged him and he licked her face. Nellie was complaining about the crossing, the river, her muddy dress, the state of the wagon, and the supplies scattered all around.
    “What a mess!” she exclaimed. “I hope no one is in a hurry, because it’s going to take a while to repack all of this! How many more rivers are we going to have to cross? I declare, I didn’t sign on for any of this!”
    Ernest had hitched the teams to the wagon, and the horses were tied to the side. Without a word, Emily began the task of organizing everything. In Independence, she had carefully packed to conserve space. Once the stove and organ had been left on the trail she had more room to spread out. Still, she liked to have everything in its place. She and Nellie busied themselves with the task while Ernest handed them boxes, bags, and crates. Ernest had not brought any hired help along on the trail. He had left not speaking to his father, and he had only his own money to outfit their trip and buy the supplies they would need to build their home in Oregon. Some of that money he had lost gambling. He wasn’t very good at poker, but he could never pass up a game. Abel Brown held quite a few of his I.O.U.s, but he was confident he would earn the money to pay him back once they got to Oregon.
    In a short while, they were ready.
    “Well that wasn’t too bad, now was it?” Ernest asked cheerily.
    Emily regarded him stonily. Nellie didn’t reply, but averted her eyes and crossed her arms. The sun disappeared behind a gray cloud and thunder rolled ominously in