May 6, 1864. Passed Roseburg. I shot a rabbit. Best rabbit I ever ate.
The next day, their ninth after leaving home, the Applegate Trail wound from one creek bed to the next, staying mostly in the lowlands, but sometimes climbing a hill and dropping on the other side. The horses had no trouble with the terrain, but Will wondered how oxen or mules could pull a wagon through the underbrush and up and down the slopes. Maybe the trail had been in better shape in its early days.
And to think this route was supposed to be easier than Barlow Road or rafting the Columbia. His respect rose for Mama and Mac, for Daniel and Esther, and for all the Pershings and Abercrombies who made the journey. Mama and Esther had been younger than Will and Jonah were now, yet they’d cooked and washed clothes like grown women. Mac and Daniel and other men had scouted the unmarked route and led their wagons across rivers and mountains.
Today was Saturday, Nate’s tenth birthday, Will realized when they made camp that night. He wondered what festivities Mama planned for Nate. She made each child’s birthday a special occasion. Mac sometimes teased her, and Will sometimes did also—though he secretly enjoyed the attention when the celebration focused on him.
Last September, when he turned sixteen, Mama turned their parlor into a dance hall. She invited other youngsters his age, and the party was just for them. Maria was allowed to attend, but none of the younger children. The boys and girls danced together shyly, the boys mumbling their requests and the girls their acceptances. But then, at the harvest dance a month later, Will felt experienced. And again at Christmas parties.
Mama knew what she was doing, showing him with his birthday party he was now grown, a man. He’d had confidence in himself, based on hers in him.
Where would he be for his birthday this year? Who would bake him a cake?
The boys had finished the rabbit Will shot at their noon meal, so in the evening Jonah hunted for another. But no luck. Their dinner consisted of corn pone and water. He could take a day or two of that, but Will looked forward to finding Joel soon and getting a proper meal. Maybe even a proper bed.
May 7, 1864. No meat tonight. We should reach Jacksonville soon.
Chapter 24: Nate's Birthday
Jenny’s week passed slowly. She heard the commotion of the household but didn’t leave her room. In late afternoons, Maria brought the younger children to see her, and she hugged and spoke with each of them briefly. But Maria took them away when they grew boisterous. Jenny missed their chatter and even their arguments.
Mac came and went. He stayed home through breakfast, she knew, because he brought up her breakfast tray after he ate. He stayed with her while she picked at her food, then took her dishes back to the kitchen. He was usually home for the noon meal, and he repeated his visit while she ate. And again at supper.
From time to time, his deep voice rumbled as he talked with one or more of the children. Sometimes he stuck his head in to check on her while she rested. And at night he crawled into bed beside her and gathered her into his arms.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Friday evening when he came to bed.
“Fine,” she said. Then with a sigh, “I can’t stay in this room forever. When can I get up?”
“The doctor comes again on Monday,” he said, pulling her closer. “We’ll see what he says.”
“I’ll miss Nate’s party,” she murmured.
“No matter. He’ll have others.”
“Any word of William?” Her eldest was seldom far from her mind.
“No.” Mac heaved a breath against her cheek. “I rode out to Daniel’s today. He and Esther haven’t heard anything either. And Sheriff Thomas has seen no sign of the boys or Jacob Johnson.”
“Did Esther write Joel?” Jenny asked.
She felt Mac nod. “Said she posted the letter yesterday.”
“Then there’s nothing more we can do,” she said.
“No,” Mac replied drowsily. After a minute, he relaxed into sleep, his arms growing heavy around her.
Saturday morning Mac was awakened at dawn by shouts from the hallway. “It’s my birthday,” Nate cried. Sticking his head out into the hall, Mac told the boy to hush, but the rest of the household was already roused.
“Dress and go down for breakfast,” Mac ordered, and for once the children rushed to obey.
Twenty minutes later, Mac entered the dining room to find them eating sausage and eggs. Maria aided little Maggie, who held out her sticky hands to Mac for a hug. He kissed the toddler’s cheek, then Eliza and Lottie demanded their turn. This felt like the first happy morning since Will had left, now some eight days ago.
How much longer would it be before they found Will?
After they ate, Mac told the children to amuse themselves quietly—they wouldn’t leave for Esther’s and Daniel’s house until almost noon.
When he took Jenny’s breakfast tray up to her, she laughed when he told her about the children’s antics. “I wish I could go with you.” She sighed wistfully.
“I know,” he said. “But you need the quiet time to rest. I’m sorry Nate woke you so early.”
“No matter,” she said. “I wasn’t sleeping. I nap so much during the day I can’t sleep at night. I lie here and worry about Will.”
“I’ve asked Sheriff Thomas to have Deputy Albee ride by the house while we’re out,” Mac told her. “But the deputy won’t bother you. He’ll just check to be sure all is quiet. And Mrs. O’Malley will stay until we return. And I’ll put Rufus in the kitchen.”
“I don’t need—”
“Maybe not,” Mac said. “But I’ll feel better knowing someone is checking on you. No one knows where Johnson is.”
