Will heard a gunshot, but Jonah came back empty-handed except for two eggs. “I snuck into a barn and got shot at when I come out,” Jonah reported. “But the farmwife missed these two eggs in the chicken coop.”
Will coddled his egg in the shell over the fire and ate it. At least it didn’t contain an embryo. Then he rolled up in his blanket and tried to sleep.
The next morning, Will’s ribs seemed to touch his backbone. Shanty was happy enough on the grass near their campsite—Will was glad his horse wasn’t suffering as he was.
The boys rode grumpily until around noon, when Will spotted Eugene across the river. “There’s the town,” he said. “We need to cross the Willamette and buy provisions.”
“You got enough money?” Jonah asked.
“I got some. Let’s hope I can buy enough to get us to Jacksonville,” Will said. “I’ll get flour and potatoes. Maybe cornmeal. And a pan. That and your hunting should keep us from starving.”
The road led to a shallow crossing of the Willamette upstream from the steamboat landing. Boats couldn’t travel any farther south due to the shallowness of the river. The boys backtracked into town and dismounted outside a general store near the dock. Once inside the store, Will recognized the proprietor from when he and Mac had patronized this establishment the year before. He hoped the man didn’t recognize him.
Will asked for two pounds of flour and two of cornmeal, plus a spider pan. Then he added two strips of jerky so he and Jonah could eat immediately. That took most of his coins. Jonah added birdshot to their purchases, and that took the last of Will’s money. They’d have to live off the provisions he’d bought and whatever Jonah could shoot.
As they headed out of town, Shanty started limping. “We ought to stop at the blacksmith’s,” Will said. “I want to check his shoes.”
“How long’ll that take?” Jonah complained.
“Don’t matter,” Will said. “I won’t ride him while he’s limping.”
Jonah grumbled, but Will dismounted and led Shanty into the smithy. The blacksmith took a look and said, “Got a nail loose in his left hind shoe. Won’t take long to fix.”
“How much will it be?” Will asked, remembering that he’d spent all his money. “I’m out of coins.”
The smith frowned. “What you got to trade?”
Will fingered the Bowie knife in his pocket, reluctant to offer it. The knife had been a gift from Mac. “How about some birdshot?” he asked.
“We might need that,” Jonah objected.
“I bought it, and I’m giving it up in trade,” Will said. “I won’t ride Shanty with a loose shoe.”
The blacksmith took the birdshot Will had just purchased, then nailed Shanty’s shoe on snugly. When the task was done, he asked, “You boys headed far?”
“Jacksonville,” Jonah said, repeating what he’d told the ferryman back in Molalla. “My brother’s a prospector. We’re joining him.”
“How far you come?” the man asked.
“From up north,” Will interjected, elbowing Jonah. There was no sense in telling anyone more than they needed to. Not if they wanted to avoid discovery.
“You got a long ride ahead,” the smith said. “Jacksonville’s about a week’s ride from here.”
Will’s heart sank. Jonah had been optimistic on the length of the trek.
“Roseburg’s about two days,” the man continued. “Follow the road south out of Eugene. Ain’t but one good road to get there.”
After thanking the blacksmith, Will and Jonah left the store and headed toward Roseburg, chomping on the jerky they’d bought as they rode.
May 3, 1864. Bought provisions in Eugene. Out of money, but we ate tonight. It’ll be at least a week until we reach Jacksonville.
Chapter 22: Worries Back Home
Jenny’s cramping continued in the days following the doctor’s visit. One morning, she noticed spotting when using the chamber pot, and she took to bed on her own initiative, asking Mac to call the doctor back.
The doctor was firm when he came. “Mrs. McDougall, you must rest,” he said. “Stay in bed. Have your meals brought upstairs. Your only chance to save the baby is to be still.”
How could she stay in bed? Jenny wondered. She had a family and household to care for.
“It’s Will’s fault,” Mac said, pacing the room after the doctor left. “If the boy hadn’t run off, you wouldn’t be in such distress.”
“I am fearful about Will,” Jenny admitted. “But I worry about all the children. Nate’s birthday is on Saturday. I need to get ready for that.”
“It won’t hurt if Nate misses a party this year,” Mac said.
“But he’s ten,” Jenny protested. “That’s a big milestone.”
“Maria,” Mac bellowed.
“Yes, Pa?” Maria said, rushing into the room.
“Can you plan Nate’s party?”
