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Sarah walked over to Emma and put her hand on her forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.” She lifted up her face and looked into her eyes. “Your eyes seem clear, too.” Then she obviously thought of something else because she began to laugh. “Oh, Emma,” she gasped. “When was the last time you had your monthlies?”
Emma stared at her as if she spoke a foreign language. “I don’t remember,” she sputtered. Her eyes wide, she gasped. “I think it was right after we buried Peter.”
Sarah put her arm around her and gave a small squeeze. “I think you’ll have something, or should I say someone, new and noisy in your house shortly after we reach Oregon.”
Emma continued to stare at Sarah. “But…but Peter and I were married for five months, and I never became-you know.”
Her initial reaction slowly changed from astonishment to small jolts of joy. A baby? She would have to tell her mother, she would be so happy. And her father; she knew he longed for grandchildren.
Then it all burst like bubbles in a bathtub. Her parents were miles and miles away. She would give birth in a strange place, with no family there. Either she would have to stay in Oregon until after the baby came, or give birth in a jolting wagon on the trip back. No, thanks.
Sarah broke into her thoughts. “Emma, just because you and Peter never had a child doesn’t mean you can’t have one with another man. You probably weren’t married long enough, anyway. Besides, sometimes it’s not the woman’s fault, you know.” She patted her arm “Go on and see Dr. Bennett. I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing. Now I have to round up my terrors and get these chores done before we pull out. I’ll see you later.”
After a few questions, Dr. Bennett confirmed what Sarah said. Walking in a bit of a daze, Emma headed back to her wagon. What would Davis say? They had never discussed the possibility of a family. Did he want a family? What about her plan to return to Indiana?
Now that she knew she was with child, it seemed even more important to have her mother near. Childbirth scared her. She had heard enough horror stories, but had always assumed when the time came, she would be in her own home and have her mother nearby.
Davis was getting ready to pull out when Emma returned. He smiled at her and helped her up onto the wagon seat. “You feeling okay, darlin’?” He smirked. “You look a little pale.”
Even though he’d given her a wide open opportunity to tell him, she just smiled distractedly, re-tying the ribbons under her bonnet. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Chuckling, Davis shook his head and climbed up alongside her. The clanging and rattling of pots and pans commenced as th
e wagons rolled forward.
About thirty minutes after the wagons began their trek, Nate rode up alongside the Cooper wagon, again tipping his hat. “You folks will notice the landscape changing soon. We’ll be seeing some snow covered peaks soon.” He addressed Davis. “Ezra is getting up another hunting party this afternoon. If you think Emma can drive the wagon, we could use your help. We’re trying to get as much fresh meat as we can before we get too far into the mountains.”
“I reckon I can do that.” Davis turned to Emma. “Do you think you can handle the wagon, darlin’?”
Emma nodded, still distracted by her newly discovered news.
“Be ready right after the noon break, Cooper.” With that terse statement, Nate wheeled his horse and rode off.
Chapter Twelve
About an hour after Davis left with the hunting party, dark clouds rolled in over the wagons making their way toward the mountains. Emma nervously eyed the sky as she guided the animals along the trail. Within minutes the clouds darkened, the temperature dropped, and the wind picked up. She kept glancing at the sky, wishing Davis had not gone with the hunting party. As the wind grew stronger, it became difficult to keep the animals moving; they shifted with restlessness, making it harder to control them.
A scout rode up behind her wagon. “Mrs. Cooper, you need to stop and tie down your wagon canvas better. The wind’s going to whip it off.” He shouted over his shoulder as he continued on down the line. Emma pulled hard on the reins, and the animals came to a stop. They snorted and stomped as she frantically crawled back into the wagon, pushing boxes and barrels aside to get close enough to anchor the ties better.
The animals bellowed, crying out as their fear increased. The wind whipped one side of the canvas and flipped it over the top. Emma edged up on the side of the wagon, bracing her knees against a post to grab for the tie, dragging it back down. She barely got it tied when rain started off as soft plops, then soon turned into a cacophony of drumming on the canvas.
Lightening, the likes of which she had never seen before, streaked to the ground in rapid succession, close to the wagon, followed by earth shaking thunder. Emma’s heart sped up, and clamping her hands over her ears, she crawled into a corner, wrapping her arms around herself. Water gushed into the wagon as rain poured down, whipped frantically by the heavy winds. One side of the canvas became loose and flapped. A small pellet of ice hit her in the cheek.
Startled, she jumped up, grabbed the canvas again, and was smacked in the nose. Hailstones the size of marbles bounced on the ground, giving the whole area a look of a winter snowfall. The noise was deafening, and a terrified Emma crawled back to her corner, praying and wiping her face of the rain mixed with salty tears.
Hail continued to pelt the canvas, tearing small holes, which soon provided more openings for the rain to pour in. The fierceness of the storm turned the ground into mud. The animals outside continued to snort and bellow, and in their terror started moving the wagon forward. But the mud caused the wagon to slide sideways.
Frantic, Emma crawled back onto the front of the wagon, and reached for reins that were no longer there, but dangling between the two oxen. Clinging to the seat, all she could do was watch helplessly as the wagon continued to slide, heading toward a rapidly filing creek.
The pounding grew harder and she watched in horror as the muddy water of the creek grew closer. Soaked to the skin, and shivering from fear and the cold rain, Emma looked up and realized the new pounding was coming from horses headed in her direction. Sheets of rain practically hid the hunting party who’d returned. Six horses split off, headed toward their own wagons, two others raced toward Emma.
“I lost the reins,” she shouted over the thundering. Her body shook uncontrollably.
“Hang on,” Davis yelled as he slid off his horse and climbed onto the wagon. Nate pulled his horse up on the other side, hopped off, then jumped on one ox. Lying prone, he reached for the hanging rein. He whipped it back in Davis’s direction, who caught it, then grabbed the other one Nate threw back. Using all his strength, Davis stood and pulled on the reins to stop the animals from moving. Nate crawled back onto the seat.
The wagon continued to slither toward the creek. Emma covered her eyes with her hands as Nate put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. Davis finally got the animals to stop, but the back of the wagon continued its slide toward the rushing water. Just as the back wheel hit the water, it wedged against a large boulder and with a groan and cracking sound, the wagon came to a stop. Rain continued to pour down. Davis pulled his hat lower and wiped his forehead with his arm.
Glancing over at Nate and Emma, he shouted above the racket of the storm. “Much obliged for your help, Hale, now get your hands the hell off my wife.”
