Emma's Journey (Oregon Trail 1) - Page 60

Both the Bergers commented on the loveliness of the gift, and complimented Davis on his choice. Emma, in turn, ambled into the parlor and returned with a box she presented to her husband. Inside laid a beautiful, light and dark brown scarf Emma had managed to knit in small bits of time between preparing her new house for Christmas.

“Darlin’, I love this. Thank you so much.” He immediately wrapped the scarf around his neck, and leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Did you enjoy your Christmas?” he asked, running his fingers lightly up and down her arm.

“Yes. This has been such a wonderful Christmas.” Then she burst into tears and waddled from the room.

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

Davis walked out his back door and glanced up at the sky, studying the clouds. He had a sneaking suspicion the weather was soon going to take a turn for the worst. The air was crisp and cold, and if those clouds were any indication, either rain or snow would be arriving before nightfall.

Most of the emigrants who packed up and headed west knew in addition to the abundant, fertile land in Oregon territory, they would be blessed with mild winters. And while there was truth to that, every once in a while the mild winter would take a turn and hit Oregon with a major snowstorm.

Blowing on his cupped hands to warm them, Davis joined Emma in the kitchen. “Looks like we might be in for some snow.” He poured a cup of steaming coffee and pulled out a chair to sit.

“Snow? I didn’t think Oregon got snow.”

“Snowstorms need cold air and moisture. You don’t generally find those two at the same time here, but once in a while a snowstorm will happen. If cold air from the arctic drops south right there along the Columbia River Basin, the valleys fill up with cold air. Moisture that moves across the area creates rain, and if the air is cold, you’ll get snow instead.”

Emma placed both hands on her swollen belly and rubbed. “Sounds complicated to me.”

“I’m going to run into town to get some supplies.” He watched her over the rim of his coffee cup. Dark circles under her eyes and a drawn expression concerned him.

Emma stirred cream into a cup of coffee, her breakfast of toast still sitting in front of her, but pushed aside. “I don’t feel up to the trip today. My back’s been hurting all night. I think I might have strained it when I hung those curtains in the baby’s room yesterday.”

He shook his head. “I told you I would do that. You need to slow down, Emma. You’re getting close to the end here.” Seeing tears filling her eyes, he softened his features. “No, you don’t have to come, I can go myself. Just make me up a list of what we need. If we do get smacked with some bad weather, I want to make sure we have what we need for a while.”

Davis strode to the hooks along the back wall and reached for his fleece coat, which he put over the flannel shirt tucked into wool pants. The scarf that Emma had given him for Christmas came next, along with leather gloves and finally, his hat.

“Emma, did you make up that list?” He strolled into the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry, I was just daydreaming. I’ll do it right away.”

She groaned and kneaded her back as she got up from the chair and shuffled over to the counter to write her list.

“Honey, you don’t look too good. Are you feeling all right?”

“I think I’m just tired. I would be fine if it wasn’t for this backache.”

“I want you to lie down while I’m gone. No hanging curtains or putting up other doodads today.” He tilted her chin up and gave her a quick kiss before heading to the door. He turned back with his hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to make this a quick trip.”

An hour later the snow began to fall when Davis was about fifteen minutes outside of Oregon City. Rather than starting off slow as many storms do, this one kicked right in. Within minutes, a fine layer of white covered the ground. Davis hunkered down in the wagon, tugged the collar of his coat up and hurried the horses. If it kept falling at this rate, it could be hard to get home. He pulled his hat down as the blinding snow whirled around and hit him in the face like tiny needles.

The mercantile was dark, the

“closed” sign displayed in the window. Davis tied the horses to the hitching post and banged on the door. He wiped the snow off the small glass, and peered in. The curtain separating the store from the house area moved, and Davis spotted Hans hurrying to the door.

“What are you doing out here in this terrible weather?” Hans asked as he closed the door behind him and fumbled with the kerosene lantern. “Come into the kitchen. Mae has coffee on. When we saw the snow falling, we decided to close up since we didn’t think anyone would come out.”

Davis smiled as he unbuttoned his coat, thinking that was the longest speech he’d ever heard the usually taciturn man make.

“Davis, oh my, with the snow falling, you’re out here? Where is your lovely wife, I hope she didn’t come with you? Do you want some coffee or tea? Here, sit, sit, Hans add more wood to the fire so Davis can warm up.” Mae clucked at him while she took his hat and coat and laid them over a chair near the fire.

“Coffee sounds good,” Davis said. “I had to pick up a few things, which I thought I could do before the snow came, but it started sooner than I would have liked.” He rubbed his hands together.

“And Emma is home?” Mae asked as she put a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Yes. She didn’t feel too good today, so I’m glad now she didn’t come with the snow being so heavy already.”

“Oh my poor little missy. What’s wrong, that she doesn’t feel good?”

Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical
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