The Love and Loss of Joshua James Read online

  "Mr. Blakely, I appreciate the offer, but I don't have the quality team the rest of you have, I'm afraid yer horse is a bit light for the work needed to pull his weight in my team." He shook his head, discouraged. "I'm afraid I'll just have to say no."

  "We can help with that," Joshua spoke as he walked around the wagon with Benji in tow. "Ben here will give you one of his team for one of yours and I'll swap one to you and use Brion's gelding. That will stabilize the teams until after that mare drops her foal."

  "An' I got room in my wagon for some o' Brion's gear so's he can ride one of them other nags," Old Billy said, stomping up to the other men. "I could even take a few of yer things if'n ya need me to," he said extending a hand to Mr. Gates.

  "I don't know what to say," Gates replied.

  "Just say yes," Joshua said, smiling. "We're all in this together now; if we can't look out for each other, then we're in for a rough time."

  "Thank you," Mr. Gates said, offering his hand to Josh. "I'll bring the mare over and be ready to go in the morning." He turned and started to move toward his stock but stopped and spun again. "God bless ya," he added roughly, then moved away.

  A HOT WIND BLEW DUST over the strung-out line of wagons, making their graying canvases rustle and snap as they moved over the rutted trail in a line. The horses of each team leaned into their collars as they trudged over the next knoll in a rattle of wheels and harness.

  The wagon train had been weeks on the trail already and what had been a cool spring was turning into a warm summer. The daily routine was well established: rise early, pack the wagon, and move out. The steady pace over the prairie had been good with few major slowdowns, but the days were taking a toll on horse and human alike.

  "I hope Tucker plans to stop in the next town and let us have a rest," Benji called to Brion who rode alongside his wagon. “The stock can't keep this pace up indefinitely, and neither can we."

  "Aye, and I'm worrin' about Bri. She's getting big and looks tired." His voice was full of concern.

  "Josh tried to get her to ride in the wagon, but she just keeps walkin'."

  "She's a stubborn lass. Aye."

  "I'm sure we'll get a chance to rest soon," Benji added hopefully. "We'll re-stock, rest and be ready to move forward." He gazed out along the prairie at the open land that spread as far as the eye could see.

  They were into Nebraska now and not even at the halfway point in their journey. After the incident with Mr. Gates, the train had become a unit, a community with only the taciturn Mr. Tucker an outsider.

  Benji looked ahead at Josh’s wagon as it rumbled and swayed along the trail, Bridgette walking heavily at its side. He smiled as he watched Katie bounding down the trail, still full of spunk as she chatted to her father who led the team at a steady pace.

  Meg, who had reluctantly gone down for a nap at the end of their noon meal, was for once quiet, and still. More and more others were looking out for the two children as they saw the toll travel was taking on their mother.

  Even though Bridgette seemed to be gaining weight, her eyes were hollow and sunken and her skin sallow. Ben could feel within himself the worry that etched his best friend’s face. Silently he lifted a prayer for the day and urged his team over the next rise.

  “MR. JOSHUA?” THE STRING bean of a boy, Stevens, called as he trotted his lean roan along side the wagon.

  “What can I do for you, Stevens?” Joshua asked. He could see that the young man was troubled, so waited until he was ready to speak.

  “Sir, somethin’ don’t feel right to me,” the young man began, taking off his hat and rubbing a hand through his thick brown hair.

  “What do you think it is?” Joshua asked patiently.

  They rode along a while, the jingle of harness and the squeak of wagon wheels filling the silence.

  “I only been down this trail once before,” Stevens began, “but it don’t seem right to me this time.” He paused again, gazing along the prairie. “It feels like we’re too far south but I can’t say for certain.”

  Joshua turned the words over in his mind, taking his time before he spoke.

  “Have you talked to Mr. Tucker about it?” he asked carefully, keeping his tone even.

  “I asked him ‘bout it the other day, but he said it was a detour. Said it would save us time.”

  Joshua James ran a hand over his face. He felt tired. His skin crawled with the dust of days on the trail and a nagging worry for his wife chewed at his middle.

  “I’ll see if I can talk to him tonight after supper,” Joshua said. “I’m sure the man is doing his best for us.” He smiled, trying to make the words sound convincing, but they felt hollow to him.

  Hours later the train ground to a halt in a clearing where a small spring bubbled under a gnarled tree. It was a good place to stop. They could graze their teams, refill their water barrels, and take a day to rest.

  As supper was served and dishes were washed with water for the first time in days, a quiet sense of joy seemed to spread through the troupe as they were told they would make camp for two full days before moving on.

  The women whipped up a special meal as best they could and soon laughter was heard echoing around the fire.

  “Will ya walk with me, Ben?” Joshua asked as he rose from the fire.

  Benji pushed his tall, broad frame up and fell into step with Joshua.

  “Young Stevens said he thinks we’re off the trail here. He says Tucker’s taking us along a detour,” Joshua commented as they strode along the outsides of the wagons

  Benji studied his friend's face. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know, but I thought I’d go have a word with our guide and check-in.”

  Benji nodded and turned toward where Tucker had set up for the night.

  “Evenin,’ Mr. Tucker,” Joshua said jovially as he walked toward the man.

  “Mr. James,” Tucker replied, pulling a bottle from his saddlebags. “Like a snort?” he offered.

  “No thank you,” Joshua replied, eyeing the bottle.

  Benji shook his head when the bottle was lifted in his direction.

  “Suit yerself,” the other man said, tipping the bottle back for a swig. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he looked at both men. “Now what brings you to see me tonight?” he asked, his eyes bright with interest.

  “Mighty nice place to camp you brought us to tonight,” Joshua offered, gazing around him. “It’s good to have a rest and refill our water stores.”

  “Sure is,” the other man said his eyes now suspicious.

  “We were sorta wondering how much longer until we roll into Laramie. It’s mid-June now, so we figured we should be gettin’ there pretty soon.”

  “Oh well, Laramie’s a far ways yet, but don’t you go worryin’. We’ll be out of Nebraska before you know it and then you can re-stock. Why come October, we’ll be in Oregon and startin’ a new life in the land of milk and honey.”

  He grinned and uncorked his bottle again with a smile. “Tonight, we can just rest easy and enjoy a well-earned reprieve.” He took another swig of the brown liquid, smacking his lips and smiling at the two men.

  “That’s good to hear,” Joshua spoke again, his voice even. “I thought maybe we were a little far south and didn’t want to fall behind.”

  Mr. Tucker’s eyes took on a sharp look as he studied first Joshua and then Benjamin. “No, no. We ain’t too far south at all. We’re right where we should be.” He smiled, showing his teeth the way a dog snarls. “Don’t you go fussin’ none. Just look to yer families and trust old Tucker ta’ see ya’ right.”

  Joshua nodded before turning away. No matter how he looked at it, they were at the mercy of this man. A man who seemed a little too fond of drink instead of hard work.

  “Nothin’ we can do right now,” Benji spoke from the darkness as they turned back toward their wagons, spread out in a wide half-circle around the spring.

  “No, but I’ll be watchin’ from now on,” Joshua said, “T
here’s something not quite right here and caution is the word from this point on out.”

  Chapter 4

  “MR. JOSHUA! MR. JOSHUA!” the frantic voice of Kyle Stevens woke him in the early hours.

  “Stevens?” he barked, rising and pulling himself out of the hole in the wagon tarp. “What’s the matter son?” he asked, scraping the rifle from its spot by his bed.

  “He’s gone, Mr. Joshua,” the boy said, swallowing hard. “Mr. Tucker’s gone.”

  Joshua James snatched his trousers from the floor and yanked them on, buttoning them as he stepped out of the wagon. Handing the rifle to the young man, he lifted his boots, shook them out, and stuffed his feet into their capacious depths.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, sir,” Stevens said, “All his gear everything’s just gone.”

  “You don’t think he went hunting?”

  Stevens shook his head. “I do any huntin.’ He only lets you folks think it’s him.”

  A cold dread settled into Joshua as he rose and walked toward Benji’s wagon.

  “Ben,” he growled as he approached.

  Moments later Joshua, Benji, Brion, and Kyle moved through the quiet camp, looking for traces of the wagon master. It did not take long to discover that what Stevens had said was true. The man had disappeared into the night, taking most of their cash fees with him.

  Joshua sat by the fire as Benji stoked it back into life. He closed his eyes as dismay filled him and tried to think. He wasn’t sure where he was, he wasn’t sure where to go, and he most certainly didn’t know how to get to where he was going. He needed to think.

  A soft breeze rustled the branches on the twisted tree by the shimmering pool and he gazed across it. A single mule deer crept quietly to the pool, dipping its muzzle and drinking. For a moment, it lifted its head and seemed to look straight at him.

  “As the heart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.”

  The words were in his mind and he blinked as he watched the animal bound away. God hadn’t brought him here for nothing. He bowed his head and prayed.

  “What’s goin’ on?” The gruff voice of Billy chimed as he approached the fire. “Ever’ones still sleeping in, but you ‘uns.” He crinkled up his nose, wiggling it back and forth. “I smell trouble,” he added, snapping his red suspenders into place with a loud pop.

  “Tucker’s gone,” Benji whispered, his voice followed by a growl from Brion, who stood behind him, rifle in hand.

  “Why that low down, side-windin’, scallywag,” Billy snarled. “I shoulda’ poisoned him with my cookin’ a long time ago.”

  Joshua smiled for the first time that day. “We’ll find a way Billy, don’t worry,” he offered, standing to his feet. “How about you wrangle us up some grub for the morning and when everyone’s up, we’ll talk.”

  He laid a hand on the wiry older man’s shoulder. “We’re not done yet.” He smiled, filling it with all the hope he felt.

  “Stevens, walk with me a minute,” Josh added, turning to leave the shelter of the wagons.

  “NOW HERE’S A TREAT indeed,” Bridgette said as she walked to the fire, “a man cookin’ for us ladies.” She smiled at Billy, who grinned wide, showing a missing tooth at one side of his mouth. “I learned ta’ cook a long time ago,” he said. “Been feedin’ myself for many a year,” he added, his smile wide but his eyes sad.

  “You’re a sweet soul indeed,” Bridgette said, placing a kiss on his cheek, “and you’re a god-send to me with the girls. Between you and those daft goats, they’re never underfoot.”

  Billy smiled. “Don’t tell no one I said it, but them girls is a heap of fun,” he said, winking.

  Soon the camp was full of activity as one by one men, women, and children got up and went through their morning ablutions and gathered around the fire where Billy was serving biscuits and salt beef gravy.

  “This here’s a right treat for sure,” a round-faced man called Wells spoke. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Glad you asked,” Joshua said, striding to the fire with Meg in one arm. “I think we’d all better sit down a minute,” he added before explaining their situation.

  “Now what we gonna do?” a dark-haired farmer in a ragged hat called as he pulled his weeping wife close. “We don’t know these here trails, we ain’t got no maps or nothin’.” He swallowed, unsure if he should shout or cry.

  “Just calm down, Avery, I got a plan if folks’ll just listen a minute,” Joshua said slowly.

  All eyes around the fire turned to him, hope, trepidation, and shock clear on their features.

  “Young Stevens here has been across this trail before.” Joshua lifted a large hand in the direction of the boy who’d stood back as the situation was explained. “He’ll take us on to Laramie and from there we’ll find a guide who’s worth his salt.”

  “That boy ain’t much older than my Jason,” another man said, pointing at his pimple-faced son who sat shoveling breakfast into his mouth. “How’s he supposed to guide this train?”

  “And who’s to say he won’t rob us of what little his partner left to us and abscond himself?” another man asked from the crowd. His outburst was followed by general sounds of agreement.

  Joshua beckoned Kyle Stevens with a hand. “This young man has been putting food in our mouths and watching our stock all along the trail while his boss led us out into the wilderness to rob us.”

  He paused, looking around at the crowd, judging their mood carefully. “Tucker left him behind, same as us and instead of runnin’ off scared, he stayed and came to tell me what happened.”

  “What assurances do we have?” a woman asked from her seat on a crate. “How do we know he can lead us to a safe place?” She looked about her at the prairie as if expecting some danger to rise like smoke from the grasslands.

  “I trust this young man,” Joshua said, placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders and pushing him forward. “He’s young and quiet, but so far he’s been steady and honest.” His hard, blue eyes assessed the party. “I’ll pledge my word the boy will see us to Laramie as best he can.”

  “You takin’ over then?” The round-faced man spoke, looking belligerent.

  “No,” Joshua said carefully. “I reckon if we want a captain we’ll need ta’ vote on one, but we’ll have to agree to abide by his rules.”

  “I reckon I can do as good a job as anyone.” The other man stuck out his chest.

  “Wilber Fodder,” a woman’s shrill voice cut in. “You stop puttin’ on airs and settle yerself down.” The tiny woman rose to her feet, dark eyes flashing. “You know about as much about leadin’ a wagon train as a bear knows about wearin’ a corset, so just sit quiet and let these men figger it out.”

  Joshua placed a hand over his mouth to hide the smile that spread across his face. If the woman was four foot one he’d eat his hat, but she was full of gunpowder and spice. He cleared his throat as the man before him virtually deflated.

  “Yes, Jessie,” Mr. Fodder said slumping, only to be rewarded with a peck on the cheek.

  “Yer a wise man, Wilber.”

  “I say we put Joshua in charge of the train.” Mr. Gates rose to his feet, twisting his gray hat in his hands as he looked about him. “He’s done a fair bit for each of us on this trek, and he and his family did more for me and mine than was ever expected.”

  He gazed around him slowly, looking at each man and woman present. “I would’ a had to drop out a long time ago without his help. He’s an upright fella an’ I say he should lead us.”

  A general buzz began to echo around the clearing as husbands and wives turned to each other.

  “He’s been bringin’ me and my young in’s fresh meat along the way as well,” a portly woman traveling with her three young sons said.

  “Mrs. Jobs, anyone would do the same if they could,” Joshua replied, embarrassed by the attention, but standing his ground nonetheless.

  “I call for a vote.” Mr. Gate
s spoke again, his wife taking his hand and standing with him. “I say Josh for Captain, all you with me say aye.” He looked around at the crowd, waiting to see what would happen.

  Joshua felt Bridgette’s hand slip into his as her brother moved up behind him. The show of support was heartening, but the thought of being responsible for all of these people felt heavy on his wide shoulders.

  One by one every man and woman called their ayes affirming Joshua James as their new trail boss before Mr. Gates moved over to shake his hand. “What do ya, say Mr. James?” he asked.

  Joshua pulled in a deep breath of air. It smelled of horse and grass and wood smoke. Familiar smells of the trail. “I’ll do my best,” he finally spoke, “but we’ll have to do all we can to support Stevens and trust him.” He looked around, noting the skepticism in the eyes of the people gathered.

  “We can’t tar this boy with the same brush as his boss,” he offered. “We’ll have to have faith.”

  As the others began to agree, Bridgette leaned into Joshua, letting him wrap his arm around her rounded waist.

  “We’re all in,” Mr. Gates said, smiling.

  “Then I think it’s time for my first order of business,” Joshua spoke, pulling his hat from his head. “I’d say it’s high time we took a minute to ask the Almighty to see us through.”

  A stillness settled over each member of the wagon train as one by one men took their hats from their heads and waited.

  “Almighty,” Joshua’s voice reverberated through the camp. “I can’t say I know exactly why this all happened, but I’ll trust you to see us through. I ask that you will give us your wisdom and protection on our way to Laramie. Amen.”

  Amens echoed around the fire and one by one, the men came to shake hands with Joshua, who assured them they would stay camped by the spring for two full days before turning north to intersect with the upward bound path of the Oregon Trail. Tucker may have meant to leave them stranded, but the fresh grass and good water were turning out to be a blessing.