“I surely hope Mac and Daniel find those boys and return home soon,” Esther said. Little Martha squirmed on her lap, so Esther set her on the floor and gave her a rag to chew. Jenny held Andrew safely on her lap to avoid Martha’s probing fingers.
“Yes,” Jenny said, with a sigh. “Now I’m anxious about both our husbands and the boys.”
“I can’t wait to tan Jonah’s hide,” Esther said. “He may think he’s too big, but he ain’t.”
“I just want William safe,” Jenny murmured.
“I spoke with Abigail Duniway last week,” Hannah said. “She’s still looking for a young woman to help with her school. She cannot pay, but she would provide room and board and an education to whomever she hires. It might be an opportunity for Maria or for Cordelia.”
“My Cordelia?” Esther exclaimed. “She has no interest in book learnin.’ She says she’s done with school. And I need her help at home.”
Jenny thought again about Maria. Her daughter helped with the younger children and housework, but Jenny could hire a maid to take Maria’s place. She’d rejected sending Maria away when Hannah brought it up earlier, and she hadn’t yet raised the subject with Mac again. Maria didn’t want to leave, but she needed to experience life outside the shelter of their family home. Abigail Duniway could show Maria possibilities for her future beyond keeping house. Plus, having William and Maria at home together might prove to be a tinderbox. A little distance wouldn’t hurt the two of them.
“What if I talk to Maria?” she said. “And we’ll have to wait until Mac returns to decide. But we’ll think about it.”
The next day, a Monday, Jenny and Maria washed the baby’s laundry. Jenny sent out many of Mac’s and the older boys’ clothes to an Indian laundress in town, but she did the delicate baby clothes and lacy items herself. Having a laundress was an indulgence she appreciated, remembering the years when she did all the heavy work herself.
“What would you think about going to boarding school?” Jenny asked Maria. She scrubbed one of Andrew’s little shirts and handed it to Maria to rinse.
Maria looked at her with a stricken gaze. “You want me to leave home?”
“I’m thinking of your education,” Jenny said. Her hands were wet and soapy, but she wanted to hug the girl. “It’s not because I want to send you away.”
“I was so unhappy at the school in town.”
“This is a school in Lafayette,” Jenny told her. “Run by Mrs. Abigail Duniway—you’ve met her. She’s a very resourceful woman. Her husband was injured, and she now supports her family by running a boarding school for girls.”
“Does she want me?” Maria asked.
“She wants a girl to assist her,” Jenny said, wringing the soap out of another shirt. “You could help Mrs. Duniway and get experience teaching younger children. Plus, you would receive some schooling from her yourself.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“Even girls should have an education, Maria. I’ve tried to provide you with lessons here at home. But with all the younger children, I can’t teach you properly. And you need to become comfortable with people outside our family and friends.” Jenny wished Mac were there to help her with this conversation.
“Does she know I’m part Indian?”
Jenny dropped the laundry in the tub and dried her hands. Then she placed her hands on Maria’s shoulders and turned the girl toward her. “Whether you are part Indian has nothing to do with your education. And whether she knows about your heritage has nothing to do with it either, though she knows you’re adopted.”
“Does she know about my mother?”
“Maria.” Jenny tried to hide her exasperation. “Your mother did the best she could under the circumstances. She made choices I would not have made, choices I hope you will never even have to consider. But you must fight to become the woman you want to be, not let the situation of your birth decide your fate.” She squeezed Maria’s shoulders gently. “Now, do you want more schooling or not?”
Maria nodded. “Yes. I just don’t want to be embarrassed.”
“You are my daughter and Mac’s daughter. You can hold your head up proudly anywhere in Oregon.”
Chapter 56: Another Trek to Klamath
After reaching Goose Lake Valley via the new pass, Drew’s expedition retraced the route they’d taken away from Fort Klamath in the summer. They reached Drew’s Valley on October 11 and continued to the Goose Lake Mountains on October 12, camping that night in a glade near the summit.
Nighttime temperatures turned bitterly cold, and Will was reluctant to leave his bedroll the following morning. Joel toed both boys with his boot, first Jonah, then Will. “Get up, lazybones,” he said. “We’re almost back to Klamath. Don’t slow us down now.”
Once out of bed, the boys hastened to break camp and load their mules. Then they and the other packers followed the cavalry down the mountain.
Due to the steep terrain, Will leaned back in his saddle, almost standing on the stirrups, while underneath him Shanty grunted at every step. His mules plodded along on their sure feet.
Will worried about how Mama might chastise him for running away. And how would Mac treat him? He would surely be punished—and he would deserve it all.
Will regretted letting Jonah talk him into leaving. He’d learned something in the almost six months he’d been gone, particularly in his time with the expedition. He’d learned to pull his own weight with the rest of the packers. He’d learned to follow orders. And he’d learned there were consequences for failing to do as he was told.
The men around him had each taught him something. Drew showed him the class of an education—scribing for the colonel was far more interesting than loading and unloading his mules each day. Sergeant Geisy’s tirades taught him about the importance of order and attention to the care of his mules. Sergeant Crockett stressed the importance of truthfulness, despite his own lie to the colonel.
His encounters with Humboldt Jim and his conversations with Drew led Will to conclude Mac was right about the Indians, more so than Drew or Samuel Abercrombie. Though caution was necessary around the natives, white men were as deceitful and violent as the tribesmen, and white men’s violence led to many Indian reprisals.
Perhaps most surprising to Will, he’d learned more about Mac and Mama. He’d listened to Joel’s description of how Mac had taken care of Mama before Will was born, even detouring the wagon train to the Whitman Mission. Mama wasn’t the only one who’d tended to Will all his life—Mac had as well, despite not being Will’s father.
But what lay ahead for him? Will still had no idea what to do with his life.
And how did he feel about Maria? Did he love her? Jonah waxed on about Iris whenever he had the chance, though Will wondered whether Iris felt as strongly about Jonah as Jonah did about her. How did Maria feel about Will? She hadn’t resisted his kiss, but maybe he had startled her into passivity.
She was young, and he had nothing to offer a wife. He wasn’t ready for marriage, but when would he know? How would he know whether Maria was the woman for him?
The questions reverberated through his head with every step and sway of Shanty’s hips, with every gaseous expulsion as the horse descended the mountain.
On October 13, the expedition reached the Sprague River, one of their first landmarks after leaving Klamath months before. Seeing the familiar burbling stream seemed almost like arriving home. They traveled along the Sprague River for two more days, then rested on its banks on October 15 before making their final push forward.
“We’ll take a Sabbath rest tomorrow,” Drew announced to the men on the evening of October 15. “Start sprucing up your gear. We’ll want to make a good appearance as we ride into Klamath in a few days.”
But his orders to the cavalry to spend their rest day cleaning gear didn’t seem to apply to Will. On Sunday morning, Drew called Will to scribe for him. “I have some summary thoughts I want to capture,” the colonel said. Once again, Drew ignored his earlier rebukes of Will.
When Will was settled with quill and ink, Drew began, “The land from the Owyhee to the new pass was mostly volcanic. The lava beds ran north to south, so we crossed them at the perpendicular as we headed west, making travel fatiguing. But we took care to find the best passes over the mountains, despite the rugged terrain. We crossed through two large watersheds, one heading north to the Columbia, and the other south toward the Sacramento.”
Drew spoke on for several minutes, while Will tried to keep up. After describing the land in more detail, Drew made his recommendations to his superiors. “I suggest a permanent post at the northern end of Goose Lake Valley, which would benefit the frontier settlements throughout Northern California and Southern Oregon. A post established in Goose Lake Valley would permit the rapid movement of troops in any direction to protect our citizens.”
Then Drew paused. “This next section is confidential,” he told Will. “I expect you to keep it to yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” Will said. He didn’t plan to get crosswise with Drew so near the end of their journey. He’d been in the colonel’s bad graces twice, and that was plenty.
Drew continued, “I am indebted to the men under my command for the success of this reconnaissance. Sergeant James Moore ably commanded the detachment left in Camp Alvord, and he is worthy of higher rank. Sergeant Garrett Crockett was my staff officer and quartermaster. Sergeants A.M. Beaty and Geisy were diligent in performing their duties on our reprovisioning foray to Boise.” Drew went on about the other sergeants and corporals in the group, then said, “The uniform cheerfulness and alacrity with which the enlisted men performed their duties added to my pleasure and interest in this expedition.”
Will noted that Drew did not mention any of the packers. But then, this report was for military commanders who would appreciate commendations for their soldiers, rather than for the hired packers. Still, Will wished he knew what the colonel thought of him.
