The Oregon Trail Series Short Stories Read online

  His focus still on the game, Arnie added, “You could ask her out for a Sunday walk, maybe take her to church.”

  “We could ask Mrs. Marie if she’d invite Miss Jenny to the Christmas party. You’d get to see her day after next, before church and all,” Lefty said.

  Arnie shook his head, running a hand through his pale blonde hair. “She’s already invited, told me so herself.”

  “She is?” Lucky’s heart seemed to skip a beat. “Are you sure?”

  Placing a tile, Arnie said, “Yep, and is looking forward to seeing all of us again. She didn’t say you specifically, but I knew what she meant.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Lucky asked. “Wouldn’t want to get my hopes up and all, not with a beautiful woman like her.”

  Lefty shrugged, not looking up from the game. “She liked you fine on the way here. Maybe she’s seeing someone else because you’re not seeing her.”

  “You have gumption for everything else. Might as well pull up your bootstraps and ask her to the dance,” Arnie said.

  Neither men looked up when Lucky stood and went to stir dinner. “Might as well.” Tomorrow, first thing after chores, he could see if Sam or Nick needed anything in town. He could use that chance to maybe get spiffier clothes. Even though he kept himself somewhat clean, a new shirt never hurt a man’s chances with a lady. Or so he imagined, judging by how the Granville ladies liked Nick and Sam’s appearances. No matter how dandy the man might be while squiring around Jenny, Lucky intended on being finer. He wiggled his toes. At least he wore good socks, not that he’d get a chance to show them to any lady.

  Lucky sat, reclining on the bed. He glanced at the clock on their mantle, seeing he had time to write in his journal before dinner. Stew leftover from lunch cooking over the fire gave off an appealing smell. He glanced at the two still playing. By the time they would declare a winner, he’d be done scribbling in the day’s events. He first thumbed through pages prior to the ribbon bookmark. His entries during the trip west filled a couple of pages a day. He turned back to today’s blank area. Now, however, two days could fit on a single page. He supposed the inspiration to draw or describe his surroundings hadn’t hit him in a while. Lucky finished writing down the day’s few events and weather. With no sight of Jenny and seeing the same landscape every day, the entries shrunk to a few lines each.

  Done with his recordkeeping, he stood, wanting to do something. “Who’s winning?” he asked once at the table.

  Arnie responded, “I am, not by much.”

  “By more than he’s admitting.” Lefty frowned at his tiles. “He’s improved.”

  Grinning as Lefty made his play, Arnie added, “I’ve been learning how to lose so well, thought I’d try something different.

  Lucky laughed, “Good thing you didn’t quit, Left. We can have tournaments, maybe play the new guy the Granvilles have been talking about hiring in the spring.” He went to the hearth and stirred their dinner. “How close is one of you to winning again? I’m getting hungry.”

  “Not long,” replied Arnie. “Go on, dish up, since Lefty is about to lose.”

  Doing as suggested, Lucky filled bowls for them, not waiting until they finished the game. He sat, eating and watching them. Once Arnie won, Lucky and Lefty began their game, finishing up their food at the same time. The game lasted into the evening until the trio decided morning would arrive before they tired of playing.

  The embers stoked for a little more warmth, he snuggled into his bed. He loved camping out, but at the moment, being off the ground felt good, too. As he settled in deeper, the rope net under him creaked with protest. Sleep took him as his head hit the goose down pillow.

  Early morning light drenched Lucky’s face, waking him up to the new day. He rolled over from his side to his back, a forearm across his eyes to block the brightness. One of the others, Lefty, he guessed, had breakfast cooking. He smiled. His chore list included a visit to town. Jenny lived in the settlement with her family, making the task much more appealing.

  Arnie swept in, stomping his feet at the door. “It’s warm in here.”

  Giving him a side glance, Left asked, “Isn’t it usually?”

  “Not until going outside.” Arnold took off his boots, leaving them by the door to dry. “Animals are fine and I’m hungry.”

  Lucky sat up. “So am I.”

  “Good, because pancakes are ready.” Lefty served up, and the other two men sat and began eating.

  After a while, Lucky tried to be casual in his tone and stated, “I’m thinking about riding into town today.”

  A look passed between the two other men. Lefty said, “Might be a little late to have new clothes made for the party.”

  He sat down his fork, unhappy at his motives being so transparent. Lucky retorted, “Might be, sure. Then again, I might not be in town to get prettied up for some ole gal who likes some other man. Ever think about that?”

  Tapping the fork against his plate, Arnie replied, “I thought about it, yeah.”

  “So did I, Luck, and she likes you. The girl’s eyes sparkle when you talk to her.” Lefty shrugged. “But don’t listen to me, I don’t have sisters and haven’t seen my mother in years.”

  Arnie said, “Since Mrs. Marie and your girl are friends, just be as nice to her as you would Mrs. Granville.”

  Lucky stood. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Both are fine ladies. What is polite to one has to be polite to the other.” He stacked the plates, putting the forks on top.

  “Don’t worry about dishes, Arnie’s got them today,” Lefty said.

  “What? I don’t-“

  After giving the other man a stare, Lefty said, “He does. So go on to town, I’ll make a list of goods we need, and try to see Miss Jenny.”

  Chuckling, Lucky retorted, “Since you put it that way, an order and all…” He tipped his hat. “I’ll get my horse ready while you figure out what I’m buying.” At Lefty’s nod and Arnie’s sullen expression, he left to saddle up his horse for the trip. Going to town didn’t take much time, an hour or so on horseback, maybe longer in this snow.

  With his mount saddled and a list in his pocket, Lucky started toward civilization. He felt a little guilty, not stopping at the main house to ask if he could fetch them anything. But if he’d mentioned town, the ladies there would delay him with questions. Last time, they’d told him what to look at, who to look for, and report back to them. He frowned. What they thought worth hearing about wasn’t the same as what he thought worth talking about. All the dresses looked the same to him and he’d not been around enough people in the settlement to know who was who. He knew he’d disappointed the Granville women last time with his lack of details, but that couldn’t be helped. That’s why he’d liked traveling with Jenny on the Oregon Trail so much. She’d know what the other women wanted to hear and he’d get to listen to her lovely voice.

  Despite the few flakes last night, other wagons and horses flattened the snow to a brittle slush. The rough gave his horse extra traction and Lucky made good time into town. The closer he rode, the more he had to steer out of the way of oncoming people. Passing by the various stores, he watched for Jenny in what he hoped was a subtle way.

  So many ladies walked with and past him. Some of the pretty ones increased his shyness and he could barely mumble a “Good day,” to them. He smiled when meeting any of their gazes, resorting to tipping his hat when they returned his grin. They were all pleasant, but they weren’t Jenny. Lucky went into the dry goods store, enjoying the smell of spices, new leather, and fresh woven wool. He stepped up to the counter, list in hand. “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning!” the man greeted. His sparse white hair matched his full beard.

  “I have some items to purchase.” Lucky gave the list to the shopkeeper. “They go on the Granville account.”

  Reading, he said, “I see. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have them ready for you.”

  Lucky nodded. He kept himself busy by looking around the store as t
he owner gathered the various food and leather goods needed. Soon after, everything was stacked on the counter. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Of course, son.” With that, the shopkeeper turned to the next customer. “Good morning! How’s the family doing?”

  He took the chance to leave. After taking his items, Lucky stepped out of the store and into the bitter cold. Moisture had frozen in the frosty air, sparkling in the morning sunlight. He smiled at the sight and began walking back to his horse.

  “Mr. Lucky! What a pleasure it is to see you.”

  He turned at the familiar voice. Shyness clouded his thinking and he blurted, “Miss Jenny! A pleasure, sure.”

  She laughed. “Maybe I’m overstating it. Still, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

  His heart thudded in his chest at the thought of her glad to see him. “I am?”

  “Of course! I miss our long talks and your music,” Jenny said.

  She stood a little close to him, enough for him to see the twinkle in her eyes. He tried to focus on what she’s said, replying a little too loudly, “Oh, yeah, I miss that, too.” Lucky wanted to keep her talking and out in the wilderness, he’d known how to do so. Not here, though, not in the middle of town and under everyone’s watch.

  After a few seconds of waiting, she smiled at him. “Are you going to be at the Christmas Party, then?”

  His brain seemed frozen as much as the icicles on the shop’s eaves. Seeing her expectant expression prompted him. “Yes, I am. I’ll be there.”

  “I see.”

  Her smile faded a little when he didn’t say anything else. Wanting to please her or to at least avert a frown, Lucky asked, “I suppose you’ll be going, too?”

  Jenny’s face lit up like a spring sunrise. “Yes, I’d planned to and hope to find an escort. Maybe I can find someone who will ask me by then.”

  “Oh.” If she’d wanted him to take her, she’d have said, instead of hinting she wanted someone else. He felt bad. “Well, I hope you find one, soon.” Lucky knew her face well enough from the months they’d spent on the Trail together. The disappointed expression she wore bothered him so he added, “I mean, I’m sure you will. You’re a lovely lady. Any man would be lucky to dance with you.” Uncomfortable at the thought of her in the arms with anyone else, he tipped his hat. “Nice seeing you, miss. I look forward to seeing you again at the party.”

  “Likewise, Mr. Martin.” She lifted her chin while walking into the dry goods store.

  Her addressing him by his surname told her displeasure more clearly than any telegraph ever did. Lucky walked away and it felt like scurrying to him. He wasn’t the type of man who liked being in a foul mood, yet, gloom followed him like a pesky little sister. He considered going to the clothing store to see what they had on hand to sell. Looking down at what he wore and not seeing any holes in the pant’s knees, he decided against buying anything new. What was the use of spending money he had saved on fancy pants? The love of his life wouldn’t be dancing with him. Full of woe, he packed up the purchases into his saddlebags and headed home.

  Back at the ranch, Lucky didn’t want to inflict his sad mood on anyone else. He volunteered to do the chores for his bunkmates as a Christmas gift. That night, after dinner and doing the dishes, he wrote poetry and dreamed up songs about heart break and lost love. Glancing at Arnie and Lefty playing cards, he liked how they’d asked about him seeing Jenny, then not pressed for details. He appreciated them giving him time to be glum about his love life.

  Their consideration continued through the next day, Christmas Eve. Lucky tried to be a little more like his usual happy self and hoped everyone was fooled. He went through the motions, caring for the stock, eating breakfast, cleaning their bunkhouse, and wore a smile he didn’t feel inside. The air around the main house and barns crackled with excitement, all due to the later party. If smells from the kitchen were any sign, the food would be the main draw. The Granvilles had insisted on hiring the music, not letting Lucky play. Just as well, he thought. All he’d muster up now were sad songs, and besides, who ever heard of dance music coming from a bugle?

  Assisting with the decorations improved Lucky’s outlook for the evening a little. Joking around with Sam, Nick, Arnold, and Lefty helped as well. If the prior evening was any indication, the full moon would be on their side, providing enough light to drive home after Mass. Every lantern on the property stood ready in the barn for the night’s event. As the afternoon slipped into evening, his stomach felt full of salamanders all fighting each other. He kept himself busy and his nerves occupied by doing anything and everything possible to help set up the event.

  Guests began filing in almost as soon as they were finished. He knew almost everyone from town. Having missed a noon meal, he began eating as soon as the hot foods arrived. A couple of chicken wings later, his stomach turned to knots when seeing Jenny and her family walk through the door. She wore a blue and white gingham dress, the blue matching her eyes. Her hair fell in a cascade of curls around her shoulders and Lucky thought she looked like an angel on Earth.

  “You going to eat that?” Arnie asked.

  “Huh?” Lucky looked down to see he had a wing halfway from his plate to his mouth. “Oh, yeah, I’d planned to. There’s plenty more, you don’t need to poach from me.”

  With an evil grin, Arnie said, “I just wondered. You seemed distracted.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  Shrugging, he replied, “Suppose so, if she weren’t your girl already.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Not yet, so eat up and go talk to her.”

  After glaring at the boy’s smart aleck expression, he finished his food in a hurry. He put the dirty plate in a wash tub, straightened his shirt, and went to find Jenny. Scanning the crowd, he saw her standing next to a man. The two talked, the gentleman as tall and lanky as Lucky was short and stout. Before he could look away, Jenny saw and waved him over. Feet feeling heavy, he forced a grin and went to meet her.

  Staring at her felt like looking at the sun. He smiled. “Hello Miss Jenny, Mr.…?”

  Holding a hand out to shake, the man said, “Brewster, John Brewster, and you’re?”

  “Lucky Martin,” he replied while shaking Brewster’s hand.

  After smiling at Lucky, Jenny said to her friend, “Mr. Martin was one of the gentlemen who kept us safe on the journey here, John. I’m sure we’d have died without his help.”

  John’s eyebrows raised. “Really? Well, Martin, sounds like you’re a fine man to have around. I’m lucky Jenny had you as a guide.”

  He didn’t like how this John was so grateful where Jenny was concerned. “Is that so?”

  “Sure it is. If not for you, she and I might never have met.”

  “Glad I could help,” Lucky replied, forcing a grin instead of a grimace. He didn’t like how Brewster had hair as light as his own was dark. He and Jenny made a handsome couple and the thought of those two together burned his biscuits.

  “You’re a fine man, Mr. Martin. Jenny and I will see you later, after our song ends, perhaps?” John turned to her, “Miss Allen, care for a dance?”

  “Of course, Mr. Brewster, I’d be delighted.” She smiled and placed her gloved hand in his as he led her to the dance floor.

  Hands in pockets and leaning against the wall as casually has he could muster, Lucky watched them. She smiled and laughed with the man, her hair glowing in the lantern light. He didn’t like any of this one bit. She’d been his best friend out on the Trail and he missed her easy companionship. Lucky fidgeted against the wall some. If he were honest, he’d admit to wanting more from her than their usual conversation. Dreams of her kisses had woke him more than once. When the music ended, he stood up from his support. Another dance begun before he could make his way over to her. Brewster lost no time in whirling her away to the tune.

  Upset at missing the chance to dance with her and not wanting anyone else to see, he slipped out of the barn, headed toward the cabin. When there, he coul
d keep an eye on the mantle clock and go back in time to attend Christmas Mass. No one would be the wiser. Jenny had a guy, the Granvilles were too newlywed to care about him, and the other hands were busy dancing with the ladies. At his home, he stoked the fire before sitting on his bunk. Lucky took out his journal to scribble down some song ideas of heartbreak and regret.

  A soft chime broke his concentration over what rhymed with scoundrel in his ode to Brewster. He didn’t have much time before the church service started. Not attending sounded like an option until Lucky considered Jenny might be there. If she wasn’t, then at least God would know he tried to be a good man this year. He got up after putting away his journal, grabbed his coat and hat, and headed out of the door.

  The Granvilles, all of them, had been decent to him over the past few years. Still, Lucky thought, decent didn’t mean he had to like attending their Christmas Mass. He saw no need in worshipping at night when God listened every minute of every day. Still, Nick and Beth wanted him there, Sam and Marie agreed, so here he sat. Candle light filled the small church. The preacher, no, the priest he corrected himself, wore a white robe. Most clergy he ever saw wore black, but this was the first church service he’d attended with the family. Maybe the holiday made it special.

  He sat, sleepy, listening to the Latin incantations of the priest. As others filed past him to accept the Eucharist, Lucky stared at the cross hanging above the altar. Thinking of how beautiful Jenny looked this evening, how sweet and lovely, he felt compelled to make a prayerful wish. He didn’t want her to hate Brewster. The man seemed like a nice enough guy. Instead, he wished with all his heart that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

  A parishioner coming back to the pew broke his intense gaze. Sheepish at being so fervent, he smiled and opened the hymn book. The song, How Precious Is Your Unfailing Love stared up at him from the page. His skin turned into gooseflesh and he glanced back up at the cross. Yes, the tune was of God’s love, but Lucky had to wonder if this was an answer to his prayer. Should he try again, he wondered. Reopen the book to another song that might tell him to go ahead and propose to Jenny? As people settled back into their seats, he almost shook his head. No need in asking again and getting an answer like How Long Will You Forget Me, Oh Lord.