Will’s muscles ached from hefting saddles and panniers all afternoon. “Packing mules is hard work.”

“We’re out under the stars. We spend our days with horses and mules. It’s work,” Jonah acknowledged, “but no worse’n farmin.’ And Joel’s easier on me than Daniel ever was. Easier’n your pa, too.”

“So you’re glad we left?” Will asked.

“Sure as heck am,” Jonah avowed. “And when Colonel Drew heads us toward the Owyhee, I’ll be even gladder. All day in the wilderness. We’ll have our mules to contend with, but nothin’ else.”

“I thought you wanted to marry Iris.”

Jonah sighed. “Well, at some point we’ll go home. Once I’ve earned enough to marry her.”

July 1, 1864. We leave the Sprague on Sunday. Then the true adventure begins. I’m excited to go, but sometimes I wish I hadn’t left home.

Saturday the expeditionary force continued to prepare for the trail. Jonah and Will managed to get away from camp for an hour of fishing in the Sprague River, though the skies were overcast and threatened rain.

“Hope it don’t rain tomorrow,” Jonah said. “It’s bad luck to start out in a storm.”

“Who told you that?” Will scoffed. “One of the old codgers?”

“Just stands to reason,” Jonah said. “All our clothes are clean, everything’s packed away. We’ll be miserable if we get wet on our first day.”

Unfortunately, Sunday, July 3, dawned gray and misty. By the time the militia left camp, the rain fell steadily.

Chapter 34: Searching in Eugene

Late on the afternoon of June 28, Mac and Daniel disembarked from the steamboat in Eugene and found a hotel. “No use approaching the storekeeper tonight,” Mac said as he paid for their room.

The next morning, Mac took Daniel to meet the storekeeper who thought he’d seen Will. “Do you remember any more about my son’s visit here?” Mac asked. “Or about the other boy with him?”

The man shook his head. “’Fraid not. Recognized your boy, but that’s it.”

No matter how much Mac and Daniel pressed, the proprietor had nothing more to offer. They spent most of the day visiting other stores in the area and talking to dockworkers near the steamship and the nearby livery. None of the men they spoke to remembered two boys on horseback passing through the area in early May.

“We left it too long, I’m afraid,” Mac told Daniel that afternoon. “I hate going home to Jenny with no new information.”

“Same here,” Daniel said. “Esther’s pesterin’ me somethin’ fierce. And she’s worse since the baby come.”

Mac left Daniel on his own for supper and ate with Byron Pengra to discuss the road project.

“We are successfully promoting the Oregon Central Military Road,” Pengra told him. “We have sufficient investors to proceed with a survey.”

Mac looked up from his plate. “Is that what you’re calling it—the Oregon Central Military Road?”

Pengra nodded. “Associating the road with a military purpose helps during wartime.” He leaned forward. “And I’ve decided to argue immediately for a railroad along the right of way. No sense waiting until after the road is built. I want to increase our chances of getting land grants along the path.”

Mac shook his head. “You don’t even have the route surveyed yet. How do you know the land can support a rail bed?”

“The survey will start soon,” Pengra argued. “We need to lay a foundation for expanding the road to a rail bed now. As we survey, we must be sure the passage is wide enough to carry a train safely. That’ll take more than a wagon route. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m not against the proposal,” Mac said. “But I think you should proceed slowly. We still don’t know when the transcontinental railway to San Francisco will be complete. How will your plan integrate with the California route?”

“We need to be ready to link into the transcontinental train as soon as it’s finished. So our route must be laid out before then.” Pengra took a sip of wine. “Will you increase your investment to fund the railway?”

Mac sighed and sipped his own wine to delay his answer. How could he tactfully decline? A road was one thing. And Oregon would need a rail connection to the East someday. But was Pengra’s design the best the state could do? Why not a railway from Portland—the largest town in Oregon? Or farther south than Eugene—closer to San Francisco? “Let me think about it,” he said. “I can’t commit tonight.”

Pengra glared across the table as he chewed his steak. Mac hadn’t improved his alliance with the man this evening.

The next morning, June 30, Mac and Daniel rode a short way south of Eugene, talking to storekeepers and landowners they met. They learned nothing and headed back to town to catch the steamship back to Oregon City. Mac stood at the rail and stared at the water as the boat chugged along, stewing both over his failure to find Will and over the dispute with Pengra.

Jenny waited for Mac all afternoon, though she knew the steamboat wouldn’t arrive until evening. As she stitched a pillowcase in the parlor, Cal wandered into the room. “Can I talk to you, Mama?” he asked.

“Of course, Caleb.” She looked up from her needlework with a smile, then frowned when she examined his demeanor. Cal was an easy-going child, but now his face contorted in a grimace. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“Is Pa going to bring Will home?” he asked.

“I hope so, though probably not on this trip.” Jenny beckoned to Cal, and he sat beside her. “Don’t you want to see your brother?” She put an arm around his shoulders.

Cal nodded, his expression still sober. “Is it my fault he’s gone?”

Jenny leaned away from him to peer into his face. “Why would it be your fault?”

“We fought after I took Maria’s horse. Will don’t like me much.”

Jenny smoothed Cal’s hair. “Doesn’t, son. And you’re wrong—William likes you. All brothers squabble sometimes.” Mac had assured her that was true.

Cal shook his head. “It’s more’n that. He’s jealous of me, but I don’t understand why. He’s oldest. He gets to do more’n me. I don’t know why he don’t—doesn’t—like me, but he doesn’t.”

Jenny stroked his hair again. “It isn’t your fault William left, Caleb. Sometimes boys have growing pains and need to get away.” She hugged him. “But when they leave, it hurts their parents terribly.” She tipped his chin toward her. “Can you promise me you’ll never run away? Come talk to your father or me if something bothers you?”

Cal nodded. But would a twelve-year-old remember his promise? He hadn’t faced any challenges beyond arithmetic yet. Jenny wondered what future heartaches her children would bring her. William was only the first of her offspring to test his wings.

After supper, Jenny paced in the parlor, waiting for Mac. Finally, Maria told her to rest. Jenny tried to calm down, but she couldn’t concentrate on her needlework.

Sunset came late in Oregon in June, but it was after dark before Mac let himself in the house. Jenny ran to him. “William?” she asked. “Is there any news? Did you find him?”

Mac shook his head.

“What did you learn?” she asked, grabbing his arms.

“Nothing.” Mac sighed. “It was a waste of time.”