eyes as she related the tragedy of her parent’s deaths. She explained that she was in search of her only living relative, Patrick Flannery, a cousin who was working in the gold fields in California.
"My goodness! How will you ever find this cousin of yours? You can’t just wander all over the mountains looking for him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"I’ll find him, ma’am. If I can get to California, I know I’ll find cousin Patrick."
"Horace, we’ve simply got to help this brave young man! Why, I’ve never heard of more courage in my life."
The man looked doubtful, but Shinonn could see he was weakening. Horace thoughtfully pulled out two cigars and, nipping the end off of one, handed the other to Shinonn.
"Care for an after dinner smoke?"
She took the cigar, bit the end off like she had seen her father do a thousand times, and leaned forward to light it off Horace’s match. She puffed several times to keep it lit, then casually took it from her lips, looking for all the world as if she had smoked cigars all her life.
"Mr. Carter, do you think we could discuss the job now? I’d sure like to have it settled as soon as possible.’
"Well, I guess we had better come to some agreement. Our train is leaving day after tomorrow and if I don’t hire a hand by then, Etta and I might just as well turn around and head back east.
"I still think you’re a little on the young side, but I’m up against a rock and a hard spot here," he grumbled. He sat for a moment, gazing at the ground. Finally he looked at Shinonn and nodded his head.
"You’ve got the job, sonny. I just hope the Good Lord takes care of us all!"
There was a decided spring to Shinonn’s step as she walked back to her campsite that night. She knocked the ashes from her cigar with a practiced flourish as she strolled along, totally pleased with how she had handled herself.
When she returned to the Carter’s wagon the next morning, Horace was prepared to finalize their contract. He proposed the following: Tim would help with driving the wagon and spell Horace at leading the oxen. The boy was also expected to handle any blacksmithing tasks that might crop up and help Etta around the camp. For these services the Carters would provide food for Tim and his two horses. They would also pay for his passage on the train. Shinonn would stay with them until the train reached the California split. At that point the Carters intended to continue on to Oregon and Tim would be free to go to the gold fields. A simple handshake sealed the verbal contract.
Although her husband was still a bit apprehensive about Tim’s age, Etta was overjoyed to have the boy’s companionship for the long journey ahead.
"Don’t you think he looks just like my baby brother, Johnny?" she asked her husband after all the arrangements had been agreed upon. "Why, I feel just like he’s family!"
***
Light was just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon when Shinonn crawled out of her bedroll and began to break camp. A pot of coffee boiled away over the last campfire she would light at St. Joseph, Missouri. Misty clouds floated eerily over the meadow where people busied themselves, preparing to start out on the grandest adventure of their lives.
At six in the morning of May 16, 1855, a bugle sounded, calling together all those who would begin the westward trek that day. Wagons began pulling toward the staging area. At first it was utter chaos as wagons, children, men and women, old and young, dogs, horses, mules and oxen all tried to find their way to the same open field.
One man seemed to be everywhere, giving directions, yelling orders, cussing like Shinonn had never heard before. Even a stranger would have guessed him to be the leader of the motley assortment of wagons. He was the wagon master, the man who was responsible for getting them all safely to their destinations.
When forty wagons had reached the staging area, two long blasts on the bugle announced a
"My goodness! How will you ever find this cousin of yours? You can’t just wander all over the mountains looking for him. Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"I’ll find him, ma’am. If I can get to California, I know I’ll find cousin Patrick."
"Horace, we’ve simply got to help this brave young man! Why, I’ve never heard of more courage in my life."
The man looked doubtful, but Shinonn could see he was weakening. Horace thoughtfully pulled out two cigars and, nipping the end off of one, handed the other to Shinonn.
"Care for an after dinner smoke?"
She took the cigar, bit the end off like she had seen her father do a thousand times, and leaned forward to light it off Horace’s match. She puffed several times to keep it lit, then casually took it from her lips, looking for all the world as if she had smoked cigars all her life.
"Mr. Carter, do you think we could discuss the job now? I’d sure like to have it settled as soon as possible.’
"Well, I guess we had better come to some agreement. Our train is leaving day after tomorrow and if I don’t hire a hand by then, Etta and I might just as well turn around and head back east.
"I still think you’re a little on the young side, but I’m up against a rock and a hard spot here," he grumbled. He sat for a moment, gazing at the ground. Finally he looked at Shinonn and nodded his head.
"You’ve got the job, sonny. I just hope the Good Lord takes care of us all!"
There was a decided spring to Shinonn’s step as she walked back to her campsite that night. She knocked the ashes from her cigar with a practiced flourish as she strolled along, totally pleased with how she had handled herself.
When she returned to the Carter’s wagon the next morning, Horace was prepared to finalize their contract. He proposed the following: Tim would help with driving the wagon and spell Horace at leading the oxen. The boy was also expected to handle any blacksmithing tasks that might crop up and help Etta around the camp. For these services the Carters would provide food for Tim and his two horses. They would also pay for his passage on the train. Shinonn would stay with them until the train reached the California split. At that point the Carters intended to continue on to Oregon and Tim would be free to go to the gold fields. A simple handshake sealed the verbal contract.
Although her husband was still a bit apprehensive about Tim’s age, Etta was overjoyed to have the boy’s companionship for the long journey ahead.
"Don’t you think he looks just like my baby brother, Johnny?" she asked her husband after all the arrangements had been agreed upon. "Why, I feel just like he’s family!"
***
Light was just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon when Shinonn crawled out of her bedroll and began to break camp. A pot of coffee boiled away over the last campfire she would light at St. Joseph, Missouri. Misty clouds floated eerily over the meadow where people busied themselves, preparing to start out on the grandest adventure of their lives.
At six in the morning of May 16, 1855, a bugle sounded, calling together all those who would begin the westward trek that day. Wagons began pulling toward the staging area. At first it was utter chaos as wagons, children, men and women, old and young, dogs, horses, mules and oxen all tried to find their way to the same open field.
One man seemed to be everywhere, giving directions, yelling orders, cussing like Shinonn had never heard before. Even a stranger would have guessed him to be the leader of the motley assortment of wagons. He was the wagon master, the man who was responsible for getting them all safely to their destinations.
When forty wagons had reached the staging area, two long blasts on the bugle announced a
Similar Books
