The Love and Loss of Joshua James Read online

  The next two days felt like a holiday to the weary travelers. Several of the men went hunting and brought back a variety of game, which was shared and preserved for the days ahead. Billy brought out an old washtub from his wagon and using a variety of blankets, they set up an area where the women could heat water and bathe. He even took the time to make cheese instead of just giving the goat’s milk to the women. When they started on the trail again, he would go back to making butter by putting the cream in a tin and letting the motion of the wagon churn it.

  The overall atmosphere of the steadfast sojourners was positive and upbeat when two days later, washed, fed, and watered they rolled out onto the prairie following the northern horizon with eager eyes.

  Chapter 5

  BRIDGETTE LEANED INTO Joshua, her breathing heavy as they trundled into the raucous town of Laramie, Wyoming. A shrill whistle blew, screeching above the din of the already loud and bustling city.

  Joshua’s knuckles were white as he steadied the team. The animals had become more and more fractious as they approached the uproar of the lawless town, where dusty streets were full of men, horses, and wagons.

  The other families in the wagon train trailed behind him as Stevens led the way toward a ramshackle building with a sign of General Mercantile hanging over it.

  The rough and ready town had grown from the site of what had once been only a fort, but with anticipation of the arrival of the rail line, it had grown into a town full of saloons, suppliers, and shops.

  Again, the whistle blew as a train pulled away from the newly built station on the far side of town. The rails had only reached Laramie a month ago, bringing with them even more rambunctious and rowdy men.

  Bri jumped, squeezing Josh’s arm hard as a pair of cowboys came whooping down the street, shouting at the top of their lungs as they raced along the main drag.

  “Is there no law in this town at all?” she asked breathlessly.

  “It’s pretty wild, that’s for sure,” Joshua replied, still easing his team along. “We’ll see about some supplies and then head out of town to camp for the night.” His ice-blue eyes took in the rough-looking men that walked along the dusty street toward a variety of equally rough-looking saloons.

  Brion rode up, pulling his big chestnut horse to a stop. “I’ll look after the horses while you go on inside,” he said, resting his rifle across his saddlebow. “Maybe you can find out about another train or trail boss headed ta the next crossing.” His bright brown eyes studied his sister carefully.

  Joshua climbed down from the wagon seat and turned to his wife, who climbed awkwardly toward him. He’d heard that with each pregnancy a woman got bigger faster, but Bri seemed more ungainly every day.

  He reached up for her and for once, she didn’t slap his hands away, letting him half lift her down from the wagon.

  “I got the girls,” Benji called from the wagon behind them as the two girls poked their head out of the canvas cover of his wagon and gazed about them.

  “You girls stay with Uncle Benji,” Bridgette called, “and if you are good I’ll bring you a sweet.”

  The girls giggled and nodded in agreement. “We be good, Mam,” Little Meg called, wrapping her arms around Benjamin’s neck and scrabbling up his back.

  The store was almost as chaotic as the streets had been. It was packed with nearly any item one could imagine and had at least a half a dozen men sitting around a small cook stove chattering excitedly.

  “I’m tellin’ ya he done quit all by hisself,” a man in a battered black hat spoke. “Mayor Brown done quit, he said...” the man scratched his chin as if thinking, “sayin’ that the other ‘fficials elected alongside him was guilty of ‘incapacity and laxity.”

  “What’s that s’posed to mean?” another man in a buckskin jacket asked.

  “I reckon he meant they was no-good.”

  A third man shook his head. “Ain’t no law in this town, none at all.”

  “Well, we got them Longs as law,” the first man spoke, nervously looking around him.

  “That’s why I’m leavin’,” the third man spoke again. “I’ll lose my land one way or other, any which way.”

  The three men shook their heads, then turned to the shopkeeper who had set several boxes on a scarred counter.

  “Folks what got any sense will just keep movin’ along the trail,” the man in the black hat added, picking up a heavy crate and leaving.

  Joshua moved slowly to the counter, eyeing the supplies as Bridgette picked through what was available.

  “Folks movin’ on?” he asked the merchant, tipping his head in the direction of the men who had exited.

  “Got a train pullin’ out tamorry,” the clerk said before spitting tobacco juice into a can at the other end of the counter.

  “Do ya know who we can speak to about joining?”

  The shopkeeper tossed his head in the direction of the man who’d just left, making his greasy hair flop on his head. “Falla’ them men and you’ll come right.”

  It only took a few moments for Bridgette to pick up the supplies she needed and select a handful of brightly colored hard candies for the girls.

  As they stepped out into the street again they saw the man in the black hat talking to Benji.

  “Yes sir, yuns can join up. We’ll be pullin’ out at first light tomorrow. Just roll on outta the edge of town tonight. Ya can’t miss us.” He turned worried eyes toward the street, grinding his teeth as they came to rest on a large saloon with a garish sign that read “The Bucket of Blood.”

  Joshua followed the other man’s gaze, shivering at the sight, and knew that something was wrong in Laramie. He’d be glad to be moving on quickly.

  “More folks for your wagon train?” a big man with a gun belt slung low on his hip sauntered toward them, his dark eyes hard. Behind him, two other men equally armed and sharing similar features strutted.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Steve,” the man in the black hat said, dropping his eyes. “We’re pullin’ out tomorrow.”

  “And what about you, mister?” The gunman’s eyes fell on Joshua.

  Joshua nodded. “Just rolled in for supplies and headed out tomorrow,” he agreed.

  “Good,” the big man replied softly, “seem’s there ain’t as much land around these parts as people done thought.” He hitched his thumbs into his belt and jerked his head, making the men behind him fall into step once more.

  “Who was that?” Joshua asked, his cold eyes following the three brothers.

  “That’s Big Steve Long, our marshal,” the other man said, an expression of disgust on his lips. “Our kinda law in Laramie.” He took his hat off, dusted it on his knee, and replaced it. “I’m Jones, by the way,” he offered, raising a hand, “glad ta have ya along.” He shook Josh’s hand, then turned and walked away.

  “I don’t like the looks of that man, Joshua,” Bridgette said, slipping her hand into his. “He’s got the mark of a killer if I ever did see it.”

  “Some folks back on the trail said he killed at least six men since he took over here,” Benji spoke softly.

  “Mam!” Katie called excitedly, cutting the discussion short. “Did you get the sweeties?”

  “Sweeties! Sweeties!” Meg bounced out of the wagon and scrabbled onto the bench next to Benji, who smiled despite her sharp knees and elbows poking him in the ribs.

  “I did indeed, my darlin’s,” Bridgette replied, offering the girls a bright smile. “One for each of ye.”

  She pulled two long sticks of red candy out of a small paper bag and handed one to each girl. “Mind you don’t make a mess now,” she added, pulling two more of the cinnamon confections out of the bag and breaking them in two before offering the men she considered family a share.

  "BRI STILL SLEEPING?" Brion asked as Billy stirred the pot of rabbit stew simmering over a small fire.

  "Been sleepin' since we come from town," Billy said, his eyes dark with concern. "She ‘et up that candy and was soon asleep." He scratched hi
s chin and scowled. "I'd a thought somethin' sweet would perk her up a bit."

  "This here is a bigger train than we had before," Brion mused. "I reckon it'll move slower than we did with that no-good Tucker. Maybe Bri will be able to rest up a bit."

  "Weell, don't go tellin' her, but I like doing the cookin'," Billy said, leaning toward Brion with a shifty glare. "Been a while since I gotta cook for other folks."

  "Where'd you learn to cook anyway, Billy?" Brion's curiosity got the better of him.

  "Use ta cook fer the fella's drivin' cattle," Billy said. "They used ta call me Cookie as a matter o' fact." He stood to his full height of no more than five-foot-five and slipped his fingers into his red suspenders. "I ain't the biggest gal-loot around," he began again, "so's trail bosses sometimes thought I wouldn't pull my weight." He chuckled and eyed Brion.

  Brion shifted on the barrel he'd pulled up to the fire, feeling suddenly overgrown somehow.

  "Anyways, I learnt ta cook so's I could go on the drives. That was when I was a young whipper-snapper, though. Later on, I settled down and stopped gallivanting' about."

  Brion watched as the old man's eyes took on a faraway look as if he was remembering something painful.

  "I'm mighty grateful you can cook, that's for sure," Brion spoke, pulling Billy from his thoughts. "I can't hardly bear my own cooking," he chuckled. "I'll just go and check on Bri," he added, standing to his feet and walking away.

  "Bridgette?" Joshua's voice was quiet as Brion walked around to the end of the wagon. "Bri, you have to get up," Josh said, jiggling her arm. "Come on sweetheart, wake up."

  A soft sigh came from the woman where she lay on the heavy mattress wedged between barrels, crates, and odd pieces of farming equipment.

  "I'll get some water," Brion Blakely said his brown eyes wide with concern. "Be right back."

  Joshua patted Bridgette's hand and called to her again, making her stir slightly. When Brion brought the water, he lifted her head and spilled a few drops onto her lips. She swallowed and he repeated the action.

  "Here Brion, help me get her up. She's got to eat something before she sleeps again. This isn't like her at all."

  Together the men pulled the mattress to the tailgate of the wagon, then lifted Bridgette. She was pale and perspiration beaded her face.

  Slipping his arms under her knees, Joshua lifted her in his arms and began moving toward the fire. Bridgette sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

  "Billy," Brion called, "You got any smellin' salts? We can't seem to waken Bri." His voice broke with worry.

  "Ain't got none of them, but got some amonia that'll do," the old trail cook said, ducking into his wagon and returning with a small vial of yellowish liquid. Carefully he uncorked the bottle and waved it under Bridgette's nose as Josh placed her on the barrel that Brion had left just minutes ago.

  Slowly, turning her head from side to side, Bridgette James blinked, then coughed and finally waved the horrible smelling cork away.

  "What, what's going on?" she asked, looking about her. "I was sleeping."

  "We couldn't wake you," Josh replied, his voice thick, his arms still holding her up.

  "Here," Billy said gruffly as he thrust a tin cup full of broth from the stew pot at Bri. "See if you can get that down and mebbe you'll feel better."

  Bridgette leaned into Joshua, still looking drawn and sleepy. "Water first," she croaked. Within seconds, her brother had brought her a cup from a barrel on the side of the wagon, which she drank thirstily. "I don't think this baby likes cinnamon sweets," Bri said, trying to smile.

  "Hush now, darlin'," Joshua chided, "eat this. I'm sure it will help." He lifted a spoonful of the thick, salty broth to her lips. After a few spoonfuls, she seemed to revive a bit.

  "Where are the girls?" she asked, looking around the camp.

  "They're having a ride with Benji on Brion's horse," Josh replied, smiling as a sense of relief came over him. "You don't worry about those girls, they’re strong and full of spunk."

  After supper that night, Joshua pulled Bridgette close as they lay snuggled in the back of their wagon. He could feel her pulse, strong and steady under his arm where it rested above her belly. Tomorrow he would take no argument, she would ride in the wagon one way or another.

  Chapter 6

  “IT’S ALL SO THE SAME, Joshua,” Bridgette said as she gazed out across a vast prairie. “Some nights when we make camp I feel like we haven’t moved a foot from where we started.” She leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder with a sigh.

  “You feelin’ better, darlin’?” Joshua asked, liking the way she felt snuggled up to him, even in the heat of a bright summer day.

  “Yes, but I’d like to see a tree somewhere,” she replied. “All this sameness makes the days seem so long.”

  “We’ve slowed our pace a good bit now,” Joshua spoke, lifting his chin toward several wagons strung out before them. “Oxen are good and steady, but much slower.”

  A peel of laughter bounced off the wagon cover as the sound of galloping hooves approached.

  “Mam! Mam!” Katie cried, giggling as she clutched the saddle horn in front of Brion as he charged up beside them.

  “Katie!” Bridgette said, “You hold on tight now.” She scowled at her brother but was thankful he was keeping Katie entertained.

  “Uncle Brion says I’m a good rider, Mam,” Katie grinned, her pale green eyes bright with laughter and determination. “He said that someday he’ll see to it that I have my own pony and it will be the prettiest little pony ever.”

  “He does, does he?” Bridgette couldn’t help but smile. “Well, as long as you’re a good girl and do all of your chores and say your prayers, I’m sure you’ll be allowed to have a pony of your own.” She smiled happily at her daughter, thinking how lovely Katie was. “You do take after your father,” she added softly.

  “Stevens says we’ll roll up to the bridge over the Platte tomorrow sometime,” Brion said. “It’s near a Fort Casper and is pretty quiet nowadays.”

  “Good, hopefully, we’ll have a rest there before moving on, and if we’re lucky the fort will have a doctor.”

  “Humph.” Bridgette’s disgusted grunt showed how she felt about the idea of seeing a doctor.

  “It can’t hurt for you to see a doctor if one’s available,” Joshua spoke. They’d had this discussion too many times and he was tired of Bri’s stubborn disregard for her own well-being.

  THEIR FIRST GLIMPSE of the long, narrow bridge crossing the North Platte River Station was as they climbed over a low rise and saw the river below.

  It was early evening and the sun to the west set the water ablaze with gold and crimson reflection. The bridge across its wide expanse looked like a thin black line that slowly dwindled as it approached the other shore.

  “What’s that, Pa?” Katie asked from where she stood at Joshua’s shoulder.

  “Yeah, what’s dat Pa?” Meg echoed, pointing a pudgy finger down the trial at a squat, square building near the entrance of the bridge.

  “That’s the bridge station, girls, but we won’t be there yet tonight. We’ll make a wagon corral tonight and stay a day or two before passing over.”

  “Do they sell sweets, Pa?” Katie’s voice was hopeful.

  “No sweets today,” Joshua chuckled, “they just take our money so we can cross the river. I’ll ride down tonight after we make camp and see how things look. You girls be good and look after your Ma.”

  “I’ll be glad for a rest,” Bridgette spoke brightly. She seemed to have regained some of her energy over the past few days as she rode in the wagon over the rough trail. “My backside can surely use the break.” She grinned at Joshua, taking the accusatory sting from her words.

  “I think we’ll have a special dinner.” Bridgette’s voice was cheerful. “Perhaps a nice potato soup if Billy can spare the milk.” Her brown eyes were bright with anticipation. “Get on with ye then, Joshua James,” she chided. “Let’s get to camp.”r />
  “NAH,” THE GRUBBY LITTLE man at the bridge station said, spitting tobacco juice on the ground. “The fort ain’t there no more. Moved last year down ta Fort Fetterman an’ took the doc with it. Says they can watch the Bozeman and Oregon Trail better from there.”

  “So, no doctor,” Joshua said, disappointment heavy in his voice.

  “Not regular like, no,” the station man said. “Sometimes they’s a doc with one of ta other trains, though.” He scratched his greasy head and rubbed the tobacco stain into the ground. “You can g’wan over to the Indians camp if'n ya want to, they trade with folks sometimes and seem ta hear ever’thing.”

  “Much obliged,” Joshua said before mounting the horse Brion loaned him.

  “I’ll head East along this side of the river, Josh, and see if there’s a doctor in any of the wagon trains that way,” Brion offered.

  “I’ll head over to the tents and see what I can find out there,” Benji echoed.

  “I guess that leaves me to the western camps, then,” Joshua said. “If either of you finds a doctor, you bring him along to camp and don’t let Bridgette turn him away.”

  Brion chuckled, “Even Bri’s got more sense than that.”

  “I reckon that’s true and with Billy keepin’ an eye on her tonight, we can go find the doc,” Benji added.

  “Sometimes I wonder about that fella,’ seems he’s been over the river and through the woods a few times already,” Brion added.

  Joshua chuckled. “He’s a character all right, but we’ve got work to do.” He reined the sleek brown mare around and headed out along the river.

  “AYE, DOCTOR, I’LL DO what ya say.” Bridgette’s voice was soft, but Josh could still hear from where he sat next to a small fire, nursing a cup of coffee.