The Plain Prairie Princess Read online

  “Yes, I know.” He ambled straight out into the dark night.

  “I can’t believe this,” Lerryn said.

  Retta walked back over to them. “What?”

  “You were talking to a real Indian.”

  “You can’t believe that there was a real Indian on the prairie?”

  Lerryn shook her head. “I can’t believe my little sister is friends with a real Indian.”

  “He’s very nice, you know.”

  William poked at the fire. “I can’t believe how well li’l sis talks to them. You look so relaxed, like you’ve done this all your life.”

  “Two Bears is very easy to talk to. I wasn’t this friendly with Dance-with-the-Sun, and Tall Owl scared me to death.”

  “How many Indians do you know?” Lerryn asked.

  “I don’t know. When I wear my buckskin dress, they seem to welcome me right in,” Retta said. “Some of them say that I look sort of Shoshone. I don’t think so. I don’t look like anyone.”

  “I’ll tell you what I can’t believe,” Andrew hooted.

  “That’s the first time I ever heard anyone say it’s too bad Lerryn doesn’t look like Coretta.”

  Retta’s face flushed. “That was rather silly for him to say, wasn’t it?”

  “Not for me,” Lerryn replied. “He thought I look sickly. It just reminded me we are only as attractive as the one looking at us thinks we are.”

  Retta bit her lip. “He didn’t mean it as an insult.”

  “Coretta Emily, never in my life did I want to look like an Indian, until about ten minutes ago. But then I realized you and I are different, and that’s okay. So you get to be princess of the Shoshone—if you’ll let me be queen of the wagon train.”

  Retta laughed. “Oh, I’ll let you. But Ansley might not.”

  The four sat around the fire for several moments in silence.

  Retta leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands. She thought about how they’d been living in this little wagon for seven weeks, and yet they were seldom together. Just the four of them—the Barre children.

  I’m very happy and scared to death at the same time. I don’t know what Papa wants to tell us. I don't know why he and Mama keep talking. It can’t be good news. But I don’t know what news it could be.

  Lord, I’ll ride with Mama every day and cook and clean and wash and sew. She doesn’t have to do anything. Papa says I have strong bones for a girl. Now I know he tells me that so I won’t think I’m fat, but he could be right. I am strong, and I can work hard.

  Retta watched William fuss with the fire. Andrew folded his arms across his chest. Lerryn kept rubbing her hands as if to dry them off.

  Lord, I do like my sister. Sometimes we don’t get along, but I like her. She’s like Mama, but younger and very snotty. Well, sometimes.

  Chapter Two

  Andrew and Lerryn sat back to back, leaning against each other for support.

  Retta stretched across the trunk, her head on William’s lap. He stroked her thick, unruly hair as she drifted in and out of sleep. She thought she heard a coyote. Or maybe she dreamed about a coyote. Or perhaps it was a Cheyenne signal.

  Lord, sometimes I like being the youngest. This is one of those times. They all take care of me.

  I like the freedom to be me ... and yet the comfort of knowing they’re watching out for me.

  She dreaded the day they get married. Maybe soon.

  William would belong to Amy Lynch.

  Lerryn would look after Brian Suetter.

  And Andrew?

  Well, Andrew may never make up his mind, even though there’s always a long line of girls interested in him. Perhaps he’ll be around a long time.

  Someday it would be just her and Mama and Papa.

  I hope I’m not too lonesome.

  It could be worse.

  Lots worse.

  It could be just her and Papa.

  Lord, I’m really, really scared.

  William rubbed her cheek with his palm. “Here comes Papa.”

  She sat straight and strained to adjust her eyes to the dark night. No lanterns were lit, and only the stars shone into their camp.

  “Papa, how’s Mama?” Retta blurted out.

  “Darlin’, that’s what I need to talk to you all about. I’m sorry to keep you up so late. I didn’t want to come out here until your mama went back to sleep.”

  “Is she resting now?”

  “She’s exhausted. She’s asleep.”

  “What’re we going to do, Papa?” Lerryn asked.

  “Your mama and I talked it over for a long, long time. Some things are not easy for me to talk about. I want you all to know that the biggest mistake I ever made in my life was bringin’ your sweet mama out on this prairie this year. I should have listened to her. I should have waited until next year. I let the Donation Land Act sucker me into thinkin’ we had to go claim that land now. My reckless impatience is inexcusable. I will live with this the rest of my life. No matter what happens, I want you to know that this was your papa’s folly, and he knows it.”

  “What do you mean, ‘no matter what happens’? What’s going to happen?” William asked.

  “I don’t rightly know all that will happen, but it’s important to me to tell you that I can be a stubborn, even prideful man. So I want you to know that I take full responsibility for this.”

  “For what, Papa? Mama was sickly before we left Ohio,” Andrew pointed out.

  “Which is precisely why I should have stayed in the states. However, we are here ... on the prairie ... almost halfway to Oregon.”

  “So what do we do now?” Lerryn pressed.

  “We make the best decisions we can from this point forward. Your mama’s sick, real sick.”

  “But she’s going to be all right, isn’t she, Papa?” Retta asked.

  Retta studied his square-jawed silhouette against the white canvas wagon top.

  “Darlin’, we’re all in the Lord’s hands, and ever’one of us has to trust Him for the future. Same is true for Mama. We’re just trustin’ Him day by day. But one thing we know, she can’t travel for a day or two. Every bounce of that wagon brings pain and danger.”

  “What’re we going to do, Papa?” Retta pressed.

  “We aren’t goin’ to move the wagon. We’ll park it and rest up a few days.”

  “We’re goin’ to hold up the wagon train?” William asked.

  “No. I wouldn’t do that if I could. No one wagon has the right to stall the others. I sent word to Colonel Graves to pull out in the mornin’ and leave our wagon.”

  Lerryn clutched her hands together and bit her knuckles. “They’re going to leave us?”

  Mr. Barre paced around the campfire. “They lost a couple days in the storm and another today pulling the California-bound out of the bog. They have to keep up. The worst part of the trip is up ahead.”

  Andrew unfastened the buttons on his shirtsleeves and began to roll them up. “Are we goin’ to go on our own, Papa?”

  “Only for a few days. As soon as your mama is better, we’ll either catch up or lag back and join the wagon train behind us.”

  “You mean, we’ll just be sitting out here in the prairie by ourselves?” Lerryn asked.

  “I’ll make some arrangements at daylight.” His voice was almost a whisper.

  Retta leaned forward. “What kind of arrangements?”

  “Your mama and I talked it through. We decided that we should send you four on ahead without us.”

  William jumped to his feet. “Send us where?”

  “Now hear me out. The only way I could convince your mama to sit out her bad spell was to promise I’d send you children with the wagon train. So I’ll put William with Colonel Graves. He needs your help. You’re the best man with the horses in this whole outfit.”

  “Second best next to you, Papa,” Retta corrected. “Don’t interrupt, darlin’. Andrew, you’ll probably go with Sven Neilsen. He needs help, and you’
ve been wantin’ to ask him about gunsmithin’. Should be very educational. We’d like Lerryn to travel with Mrs. Ferdinand. You know that she’s been lonely ever since we buried her husband back at the bluffs. And, li’l darlin’, you’ll be with the Weavers, of course. They’ve been your second home ever since you were a little penny. Mrs. Weaver said it will be fine.”

  William folded his arms across his muscled chest. “You can’t split us up, Papa.”

  Mr. Barre sighed. “Well, son, I can’t ask anyone to take all four of you. That’s just too big a burden.”

  Andrew stood three inches taller than his older brother. “That’s not what William meant. He meant that you can’t ask us to go off and leave you and Mama.”

  Mr. Barre’s voice softened. “It’s just for a few days.” Lerryn scooted up next to Andrew. “Papa, it doesn’t matter how many days. We aren’t doing it.”

  “You don’t understand. The decision has been made. Your mama and I have talked this through.”

  Retta moved up next to William. “But, Papa, you didn’t talk to us.”

  “You’re only eleven. I don’t have to—”

  “I’m twelve, Papa, but I won’t go off and leave you and Mama.”

  Mr. Barre put his hands on his hips. “I don’t reckon I have to consult you on everything.”

  “I’m twenty years old, Papa, and this is something you do have to talk to me about. I’m not going,” William announced.

  “Neither am I,” Andrew added.

  “I’ve struggled, cried, and prayed about this all evening. Don’t grieve me by disobeying me.”

  “Don’t ask us to do something our hearts won’t let us do,” Lerryn pleaded.

  Mr. Barre paced in front of them. “Now look. You don’t understand. This is a very serious situation...”

  “We understand, Papa,” Retta insisted.

  “No, I don’t think you do.”

  “Papa, we know that Mama is very sick,” William said, “so sick she could die. So sick she wants to die. And she just might die.”

  “And we know you can’t move her,” Andrew added. Lerryn slipped her arm into her father’s arm. “We also know that a wagon stuck on the prairie by itself is a target for Indians and raiders. We know that staying back will mean danger to all of us.”

  Retta stepped up and grabbed his other arm. “But to go off and leave you and Mama would doom our entire lives to misery and regret. Papa, we know what we’re getting into. We’re not little children.”

  He hugged his daughters. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ll disobey my direct orders?”

  “Papa, we’re begging you not to order us,” Lerryn implored.

  “And if I do order you?”

  “May the Lord have mercy on us,” William replied. “And you’ll have to decide whether it’s best for us to follow you or to follow the Lord’s leading.”

  Retta laid her head on her father’s strong shoulder. “We won’t go, Papa.”

  “We’re the Barre family. We don’t split up,” Andrew declared.

  Retta felt his shoulder start to shake. “You aren’t making it easy for me,” he finally choked out.

  “Is it easy to send us away, Papa?” Retta asked. She could see the tears roll down her father’s face.

  “No, darlin’, this is the toughest day in my entire life.” He brushed his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “You four do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  “You’re saying we could die right out here on the prairie all alone,” William said.

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Papa,” Retta said, “I don’t want to live without you and Mama and William and Andrew and Lerryn.”

  “Well now, darlin’, we don’t know what the Lord’s future plan for our family looks like.”

  “We know He planned for us to be together. And if we are to be split apart, let’s let Him do it, not us,” William asserted.

  “That’s your decision?” Mr. Barre said.

  “Yes, sir, it is,” Andrew affirmed.

  “Do you know that you are all as stubborn as your mama?”

  “Yes, sir, we do know that,” Andrew replied.

  Mr. Barre walked over to the wagon and tapped on the box. “Did you hear all that, Julia?”

  Her voice was very weak but decisive. “Yes, I did.”

  “Then we’re all stayin’.”

  “Yes, I reckon we are,” she replied.

  * * * * *

  After the children greeted their mother from the back of the wagon, Mr. Barre lined them up next to the dying fire. “Now I need you all to get some sleep. Even though we aren’t pullin’ out in the mornin’, there are some things we need to do.”

  “You want us girls to sleep under the wagon with William and Andrew?” Retta asked.

  “No ... well ... maybe just tonight, but after that I’ll want you girls in the wagon with Mama every night.”

  “What do we do in the mornin’, Papa?” Lerryn quizzed. “Do we just sit here and wait for them all to leave?”

  “More or less. I’m not movin’ that wagon one foot until your mama gets better. So at first light you boys cut out our horses, cows, and oxen. Push them out on the prairie to the south and hold them until the others are driven out of sight. I’ll come out and spell you. When everyone is gone, we’ll drive them up here to the wagon.”

  “We could make a rope corral for them,” William suggested.

  “Yep, we just might have to do that.”

  “How about us?” Lerryn asked.

  “Li’l sis can build the fire, like always. Big sis, do you want to cook or sit with Mama?”

  “I want to cook.”

  “You do?” he asked.

  Lerryn’s voice was almost a whisper. “I think Mama might want someone else to look at.”

  “She didn’t mean those things, darlin’.”

  “I know, Papa.” Lerryn rested her chin on her chest. “But even when you fall down by accident, it still hurts.” Mr. Barre stared at Lerryn for a moment.

  His voice was low.

  And soft.

  “You’re right, sis.” He turned to Retta. “So, darlin’, when I tap, you crawl up in the wagon to be with Mama. I’ll start a fire.”

  “I can start the fire, Papa. That’s my job,” Retta insisted. “Then I’ll crawl up in the wagon with Mama. Let me start the fire.”

  He shook his head. A slight smile dawned on his rugged face. “Did I ever tell you I have the best family in the world?”

  “Oh, Papa” Retta scolded, “you tell us that all the time.”

  They rolled the big canvas awning out on the ground under the covered wagon, and Mr. Barre tossed down the quilts. All four stretched out with their clothes on. The girls removed their shoes and stockings. Andrew stretched out at the east end. Next to him was Lerryn, then Retta, then William. Their heads aimed toward the river, and their feet pointed to the prairie.

  “Are you scared, William?” Retta whispered.

  “About sleeping under the wagon?”

  “No, about being left out here on the prairie by ourselves.”

  “Just a little maybe. I’d be a lot more nervous without all of you around.”

  “You mean without Papa?” Retta pressed. When William talked softly, he sounded just like her Papa.

  “No, I mean all of us,” he replied. “Somehow family makes it better.”

  “Do you think Indians will come attack us, Retta?” Lerryn asked.

  Retta turned toward her sister. “You’re asking me?”

  “You know more about Indians than the rest of us combined,” Andrew stated.

  “I know the Shoshone won’t attack. They’re my friends, and they’re in a hurry to get to Fort Bridger. And I know the Cheyenne that are led by Dance-with-the-Sun won’t attack. At least, as long as I wear my buckskin and carry that coup stick. I think they just wanted the Arapaho.”

  “What about that mean Indian?” Lerryn asked.

  “If Tall Owl
gets free, he’s liable to be mad at you,” William said.

  “He’s by himself,” Retta reasoned. “If he broke free, he would have to take us all on.”

  “If he gets free from that bunch, it means he has helpers. Remember how they dragged him across the river?” William reminded her.

  “I don’t want to think about it.” Retta shuddered. “Let’s think about good things.”

  “Like what?” Lerryn questioned.

  “Like Oregon,” Retta whispered. “William, what’re you looking forward to most about Oregon?”

  “Havin’ my own farm.”

  “Are you goin’ to file for 320 acres of your own?” Andrew asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You goin’ to marry Amy Lynch?” Retta probed.

  “If her daddy lets me. He said we couldn’t marry until I held that Donation Land Act claim in my hand. Course, if I was married, my wife could get 320 acres, too.”

  “How about you, Andrew?” Retta asked.

  “I’m goin’ to start me a blacksmith shop. Papa said if I helped him build a barn, I could use it for blacksmithing until I get a place in town.”

  “What town?” Lerryn queried. “Did you ever wonder what town we’ll be near?”

  “Maybe we get to name one,” William chuckled. “Did you ever think about that?”

  “We could call it Barresville,” Retta ventured.

  “We came from Barresville,” Lerryn reminded her.

  “Well, there can be two of them.”

  “We could name it Cutler after Great-grandpa,” Andrew suggested.

  “We could name it after Papa,” Retta offered. “Eugene? Have you ever heard of a town called Eugene?” William chuckled.

  “Well, in that case, I think Rettasburg has a nice ring to it.”

  “No one asked me what I look forward to in Oregon,” Lerryn put in.

  “Well?” Andrew pressed.

  Lerryn rolled over on her back. “School.”

  “I don’t know if there are any schools in Oregon yet,” William mumbled in a sleepy, deep voice.

  “Well then,” Lerryn maintained, “I’ll just start one. I’ll be the teacher.”

  “Really?” Retta rolled over next to her sister.