Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1) - Page 35

Davis hunkered down next to her. “Darlin’, you can’t stay here. You have to cross the river.”

She gazed at him with tear rimmed eyes. “I can’t do it. I’m too scared. I know I’ll drown.”

He grabbed her arm as she rose to run. “The wagon’s already on the other side. I came back on a horse. You’ll ride with me and I won’t let you go. I promise.”

“I can’t!” She waile

d.

Davis cupped her face in his hands. “I promise you on my life you won’t drown. I’ll hang onto you with all my strength.”

She shook so hard, her skin so pale, he feared she’d go into shock.

“All right, darlin’. I apologize for this ahead of time.” With that he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and strode toward the horse. Drawing on all his strength, Davis put his foot in the stirrup, and still holding Emma over his shoulder, swung his leg over the other side of the animal. With one quick jerk he dropped her into his lap and started toward the river, one arm snugly around her middle as he held both reins with his other hand.

She burrowed her head into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, almost cutting off all his air with her iron grip. With Emma sobbing all the way, they made the crossing without mishap.

Davis handed a still pale and shaking Emma over to Ezra and walked the horse back to Nate. Nodding a thanks in his general direction, he stalked back to his wife, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and moved her in the direction of their wagon. Hands on her bottom, he pushed her up into the wagon, and climbed in after her.

She huddled in the corner, her teeth chattering.

“Honey, this has to end. We’re traveling to a rough part of the country. Things happen. Indians, rain storms, animals, outlaws.” He gestured with his arm in the general direction of the river. “And river crossings. I can’t have you falling apart every time something frightens you. You’re a grown woman. Carrying a child. It’s time to face your fears.”

“I am grown up. I was grown up just fine in Indiana. In Indiana, I. . .”

Davis placed his hands on his hips, his legs spread. “Woman, I don’t want to hear the name of that cursed place ever again. You understand me?” He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a huge gulp of air to calm himself. His wife needed a boost of confidence. So used to relying on her parents for everything, she refused to acknowledge her own strength. And it was his job to prove to her she could handle most anything.

Taking another deep breath, he dropped his hands, rubbed the back of his neck, then climbed out of the wagon.

Fear of losing her was turning him into a lunatic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The early morning sun cast a shadow over Emma. She and Davis slept with their backs to each other, both hugging their own side of the pallet. The rest of yesterday passed with short curt answers to questions. Supper had been a quiet affair, and after cleaning up, Davis wandered over to where several of the men were playing cards, and Emma found her way to Sarah’s wagon.

Sarah seemed to be doing better since Stephen’s death. Her old spirit was back, and she laughed and joked with Buck and her other children. Seeing the loving family, Emma felt a jolt of sadness at the distance between her and Davis since the crossing. Instead of stopping, she walked by, giving the family a small wave. She soon found herself back at her own wagon. After washing and changing into her nightgown, she climbed into the empty pallet and was fast asleep before Davis returned.

Now lying beside him, she wondered about her future. Touching her stomach, she thought about the baby’s future, too. Returning to Indiana had receded in her mind until she faced the crossing. How could she birth and raise a child with all the dangers Davis numbered? She knew she could count on him, but he wouldn’t be alongside her every minute of every day. Sighing, she turned over on her back to find Davis on his back, staring at her.

“Mornin’,” Emma whispered.

“Mornin’,” he returned.

Davis shifted to his side and propped his head up on his hand. “I want to teach you to shoot.”

“Shoot?” She gasped.

“Yes, every western wife needs to be able to protect herself. I can’t be with you every minute.”

Had he read her mind?

“And I would feel a whole lot better if I knew you could shoot a gun. I’ll teach you how to clean it, load and fire it. When we stop for noon break today, and then again tonight, you’ll start practicing.” The look he gave her brooked no argument, so she didn’t try.

Shoot a gun?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days passed as the wagon train meandered through steep narrow paths. Emma no longer spent her mornings emptying her stomach in the bushes, but she continued to need a nap each afternoon.

Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical
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