A New Life

By Christine

Brushing the hair back off her face, Inger walked slowly toward the wagon. It had been a long day. They had been up since before dawn and she was tired. She found Ben at the back of the wagon, rummaging through their supplies. He looked at her and then turned his hand over, holding it out towards her. "I need you to bandage this for me."

Inger caught his hand, looking closely at the deep cut. Blood dripped from the wound as Ben smiled gently at his wife. "Don’t look so worried, it’s just a scratch. I need you to bind it up for me so I can get back to work."

Inger looked at her husband closely. "Ben, this is not just a scratch. It is deep and will need cleaning out before bandaging."

Ben let out a frustrated sigh and pulled his hand away. "The Thomas’ did not fare so well on the river crossings today. Their wagon was badly damaged on that second crossing. I need to help with repairs."

"Ben, listen to me. This wound needs to be properly cared for." Pushing a wad of cotton into the wound, Inger quickly bound it. She smiled up at her husband. "There, that will stop the bleeding until it can be cleaned. Now go and sit by the fire and I’ll ask Adam to fetch some water."

With his good arm, Ben pulled her towards him and held his arm around her waist. "Have I told you how much I love you?" he whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Inger leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. Comforted by the steady beat of his heart, she laughed, "Well, not since this morning." Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed away, her eyes bright as she teased. "I don’t know how you can love me looking like this." She placed his hand on the swell of her stomach. Ben’s eyes softened as he felt movement—new life. His eyes filled with warmth and love for this woman who shared his life, his dream.

Inger looked up into this face she knew so well. The strong jaw line, hair curling softly over his collar, penetrating blue eyes that usually sparkled with good humour. Those eyes that could turn cold and impersonal when angered were this moment focused on her, warm with knowing and love. She took his arm and pulled him towards the fire. "You must wait here, Ben." Inger turned to leave. "Adam is at the Thomas’; I’ll get him to fetch some water."

Ben shook his head. "Adam’s not with the Thomas’s, Inger. I’ve just come from there."

For a moment, Inger looked confused. "But I gave him permission to join you there as soon as we made camp." She pressed her hand to her mouth. "That was two hours ago. He must be there."

Ben shot up from the stool, and grabbed his rifle from the back of the wagon. Grasping Inger by the shoulders he said, "Go to the Thomas’, tell them and the others that Adam is missing." He jerked his chin to the left. "I’ll check the bluffs. He may have gone there to look at the herds."

Fear clutched at Inger’s heart. There were so many things that could happen to a child, alone in this country, but she would not allow her fears to take over. She took off at a run, wiping her tears away with an impatient hand.

Ben started up the sandy bluff. Adam had been fascinated by the herds of buffalo that crossed their paths today on the trail and Ben was certain he would find the boy there. The top of the bluff would be a good place to satisfy his curiosity—to take in his fill of these wonderful creatures. He reached the top and paused to gather his breath.

"Adam!"

The boy whirled around. "Pa, I was—"

Ben held up his hand. "Whose permission did you have to come out here?"

Adam took a step backwards.

"Well?" Ben moved toward the boy.

Adam looked warily at his father. "I didn’t have permission, Pa." He turned and gestured behind him. "I....I just wanted to see the herd."

Ben’s jaw tightened, the boy knew better than to disobey. Out here, his safety, his very life depended on him following instructions and obeying instantly—just as Ben had been required to do at sea. Ben thought he had made that clear. "You wanted to see the herd, even though you knew it was wrong to be out here alone?" Ben’s voice was low and even.

"Yes Pa." Adam looked down.

"I’m disappointed in you, Adam. You know better than to disobey."

Adam was quiet on the walk back to camp. He spared a worried glance at his father, upset by Ben’s silence. He found himself half-running to keep up with his father’s long strides.

As they came closer to camp, Ben turned to his son. "Run ahead and make your apologies to your mother, young man. Then to the other families for inconveniencing and worrying everyone." Ben reached out and grabbed the boy’s arm. "You will then stay by the wagon until you are told otherwise. Do you understand me?"

Adam gave a brief nod and an almost breathless, "Yes, sir."

Ben watched the boy run on ahead. He gave a deep sigh and ran his hand over his face. Life on the tail was tough and uncompromising, especially for children. There was no room for mistakes. Mistakes cost lives. Ben took a deep, calming breath and followed his son into camp.

Ben sat in the warm, golden light of the fire. His hand poised over the page of his journal as he considered the words to describe this day on the trail—the great herds of buffalo, like a dark moving sea, wide, shallow rivers, golden grass for as far as the eye could see, and the people who shared this journey with them. Ben also kept a record of their mileage, as best he could reckon, of the wagons, livestock and traveling conditions. He had kept a journal for as long as he could remember, all through his years at sea— it was habit now.

"Pa?"

Ben turned at the soft sound. Adam stood beside the wagon, head down as he scraped his toe in the dirt.

"Adam, what are you doing out of bed, you should be asleep."

"I couldn’t sleep, Pa. Please can I talk to you?"

Ben put down his journal and motioned with his hand. "Come here, son."

Adam walked to his father and stood before him. Bathed in the golden glow cast by the dying embers of the fire, Adam spoke softly, his eyes downcast. "Pa, I’m sorry for disobeying you today, and for worrying you."

Ben reached out and lifted the boy’s chin. "You know better than to disobey, Adam."

"Yes, sir." Adam whispered. "I just wanted to see the buffalo."

"I understand that, Adam, but life on the trail demands a lot from all of us, son. We need to be aware of what we’re doing all the time. There is very little room for carelessness or mistakes. When you disobey, disregard the rules of this family, you not only put your own life at risk, but that of other members of this train as well." Ben paused and searched the boy’s face. "Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Adam shifted on his feet and looked anxiously up at his father. "Yes, Pa, I understand."

Ben gave a brief nod and then placing an arm around Adam’s shoulder he guided him back to the wagon. "We’ve got an early start in the morning; you need to get some sleep."

Ben watched as Adam climbed into the wagon, and then turned and slowly walked back to the fire and to the open journal waiting for him.

The next morning, at first light, everyone was woken by the now familiar shouts of ‘Arise! Arise!’ Breakfast was quickly eaten and the whole camp came to life as they prepared for the day’s march. Today, Ben would scout ahead of the train. He would mark the trail for those who followed, check river crossings and find good camping grounds with water and grass for the animals.

Matthew, Simon and Rachel Thomas’ oldest boy, would drive Ben’s wagon. Ben had grown to like and respect the young man. He was just twenty, but steadfast and responsible. He was a willing worker and had proved himself already on several difficult river crossings. Ben trusted his ability to deal with anything unexpected.

The wagons moved slowly forward and Ben came alongside Inger as she sat beside Matthew at the front of the wagon. "I’ll see you when we stop at noon." Smiling widely, he tipped his hat and allowed the wagon to move ahead.

Dropping back, Ben rode up beside Adam who was walking alongside the wagon, well clear of the wheels and the team. Looking down at the boy, Ben raised his voice so he could be heard. "Would you like to ride with me today, Adam?"

For a fleeting moment Ben saw the boy’s eyes light up. Then he looked down and scuffed his boot in the dirt. "What about what I did yesterday, Pa?"

Ben quickly dismounted and turned the boy to face him. "You were punished for your mistake, Adam. If you’ve learned from this, then we’ll put it behind us and start afresh."

"I won’t ever do anything again without asking first." Adam spoke so softly that Ben had to lean close to catch the words.

Ben looked down to hide his smile. The boy’s innate curiosity and questioning mind might preclude that. He gave no hint of his thoughts to the boy though, instead, he looked up and nodded. "I’d appreciate your keen eyes on the trail today, Adam. Would you ride with me?"

The smile that filled Adam’s face was answer enough. Ben mounted and then reached down to pull the boy up behind him.

With the sun rising steadily behind them, Ben leaned forward in the saddle and urged his horse into an effortless canter. The weather was beautiful, the breeze light and feathery—the prairie glorious. The golden grass, shaking and shimmering like a restless ocean, stretched to the horizon. There was a freedom to being out here on horseback and Ben turned and grinned at his son. On impulse, Ben swung his horse in the direction of the high bluff and rode to the top. It was a magnificent sight—cottonwood lined the shores of the river and in the middle were beautiful timbered islands.

Eventually Ben turned and rode back down the bluff. As they rode at an easy canter, deeper into the prairie, Ben’s eyes swept the area around him, always vigilant. So far they had seen no buffalo. But after riding for some time, they came across a herd of antelope. Ben eased back and brought his horse to a walk. Ben and Adam watched the white-rumped pronghorns until they ran from sight.

Keeping his horse at a walk, Ben led her down to a stream. They would rest for a while here. Adam walked at the water’s edge, throwing flat stones and watching the ripples they created. Ben studied the stream carefully, assessing the depth and strength of the currents—it would make a safe fording for the wagons.

Turning to call to Adam, Ben paused as something caught his eye—a dust cloud. From his vantage point on the bank of the river, he could see it clearly; someone was riding full speed from the direction of the camp.

As the rider drew closer, Ben recognized Matthew Thomas. Ben’s throat tightened. What would cause him to ride out here at such pace?

Sliding his horse to a stop, Matthew spoke quickly, breathlessly. "Ben, it’s Inger!"

Ben stood, dazed for a moment, unmoving.

"It’s the baby. You must get back to camp!"

Ben moved then. He swung onto his horse and reined him around. "Adam, you are to stay with Matt and do exactly as he says."

Ben broke away and rode with as much speed as he dared over the rough ground, back to the wagons. He raced past the first wagons, still moving slowly forwards. Then, in a clearing, two wagons were stopped beside the river under the shelter of a grove of cottonwood trees. Dismounting quickly, he ran to their wagon and flung back the flap. He paused, forcing himself to breathe, his blood hammered in his ears, masking any sounds. Moving quickly but carefully he climbed into the wagon. The wagon smells were familiar and reassuring. There was the scent of smoked bacon, of dried herbs and spices, of linseed oil, of tallow and soap and of the woman he loved. He dropped to his knees and took Inger in his arms. She was weak and her lips were dry, but she smiled gently at him. Relief washed through him and he felt his heart ease.

Dragging his eyes from Inger’s face, Ben’s gaze fell to the child held tightly in her arms. A beautiful, fair haired child, with round, rosy cheeks. A tiny fist waved in the air, finally settling as it found its way to the small mouth.

"We have a son, Ben." Inger’s words were filled with wonder.

Ben took a deep breath and smiled tenderly at his wife. A son, a brother for Adam, they were truly blessed.

"I should have been here, My Love." Ben took Inger’s hands in his. "I’m sorry." He turned to her and gently took her shoulder and cradled her against him.

"You weren’t to know, Ben. And besides Rachel was a wonderful help. We are lucky to have friends like the Thomas’."

"Yes, we are that."

Ben sat for a long time, gazing into the fire, drawing comfort from the nighttime sounds which had become so familiar. It was a clear night and he smiled as his eyes quickly found the North Star—his guide for so many years at sea and now on their journey west. The camp was quiet now, soft murmurings the only sounds as people settled to sleep.

Leaning back, Ben rested the journal on his knee. He pulled back the soft, brown leather cover and opened it to a new page. With the flickering light from the fire reflected in his eyes, Ben wrote the date at the top of the page. Then with great care he recorded the birth of his second son, Eric Hoss Cartwright—on the prairie, in a cottonwood grove on the east shore of the Little Blue River.

Tomorrow they would rest. The next day they would continue their journey—a journey to fulfill the dream of a new life.

The End