Independence 5

~~~

This is historical fiction - with the naughty parts included. It's entertainment. If you want to know more (which, quite honestly, I hope this tale encourages), search the facts out for yourself.

~~~

I woke with Mitchell's alarm. I was naked and lying on my back. Annie was lying on the cot beside me. She was naked as well. She was kind of facing me but also kind of lying on her belly. Her left arm was thrown across my stomach.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. She grinned.

"You kind of passed out," she said quietly.

"Did ... Did you get what you needed?" I asked.

"A couple times," she answered, still grinning.

"Lydia?"

She nodded and said, "Same."

"Good," I said.

"Really good," she said, grinning more broadly. "You like that?"

"Fuck, yeah!"

"Do you want to try fucking my throat."

"Yes."

"Good. I want to feel it shooting inside of me."

"We need to get moving."

"Yes, we do," she agreed.

We both tried to rise, groaned, collapsed back onto the cots, and then tried again. We finally succeeded.

We got dressed and folded up the cots.

Annie left to go help her mother. I started breaking camp and getting everything packed away.

~~~

Eleven days later, we pulled into The Dalles. The place was an absolute madhouse. Mitchell and I had talked to every family unit up and down the wagon train. Mr. Bond had a list of those who had said that they were going to brave the Columbia River.

We stopped near the landing and Mitchell moved to the front of the wagon train. I moved to Mitchell's place. Mitchell and Mr. Bond went down the line - wagon by wagon - confirming each family or group's decisions.

When a family stated their intention to break company here, Mr. Bond took them to the landing, pointed down the river and once more described the gruesome deaths and agonizing loss that would accompany that decision.

One of Mitchell's families took the $5 and lined up at the pier. One of mine did as well. Mr. Bond warned both of them that their absolute safest choice was to pay experienced men to get them onto the water and guide them to Fort Vancouver.

The estimate for such services and equipment were somewhere between $70 and $100. Few - if any - of the families in our wagon train still had that kind of money on them. Besides the costs of the wagons, the supplies, and the $100 fee for Mr. Bond's shepherding services, we'd each paid out probably $10 more in fees and tolls for ferries and other conveyances to bring us this far.

Mitchell and I went back up the lines, letting people know that we were moving again. Mr. Bond had ordered us to drill into their minds not to get separated from the wagon train in The Dalles. Not only would they lose out on the $5 that Mr. Bond carried for their toll - but he would no longer be responsible for their care or safety. We had warned them of every sin and vice that ran rampant through the town - ready to prey on newly-arrived victims.

I honestly thought - in the days leading up to our arrival - that he was exaggerating. As I looked around us, however, I began to wonder if we'd done enough to scare our people into blind obedience.

We moved on from The Dalles and climbed the ridge to reach the entrance to the Barlow Road. Mr. Bond stood by as each wagon passed and paid the tolls for each of our group. He also paid for the herd of cattle behind us. I didn't know how many of those animals belonged to the families in our group and how many were profit-makers for the man - but it all quickly added up to well more than I had in my wallet.

Other than the drinks and food that I had bought in the Hamilton tavern, I had pretty much saved all of the money that I had made in the year that I had served in the volunteers. I still had a good amount of that left - even after buying supplies for the trail. In less than two weeks, I would collect a paycheck from Mr. Bond as well.

We would arrive at Oregon City having spent around 25 weeks on the trail. At $2/week, I'd earn another $50. I was tentatively planning to spend that on either supplies or another horse - so that I could turn around and head back up the trail to Missouri.

~~~

The Barlow Toll Road was a little more than a rough path carved through the trees. We climbed steep grades and crossed boulder-strewn ravines. We took a short break at Summit Meadows to make repairs and rest before the strenuous descent down Laurel Hill.

In no time at all, it seemed, the whole arduous adventure was all over. We came to a halt at the edge of a small city. Mr. Bond called Mitchell and me forward, ordering us to bring all of our gear and our mounts. Cookie had moved the supply wagon to the side of the road. We tethered our horses there - with Mr. Bond's. On foot, the two of us accompanied him as he passed down the line of wagons.

At each unit, he spoke to the family or group, explained what he knew of the layout of the town, and answered any questions they had. He then handed the head of the group a $5 bill, informing them that it was to be used to buy a hot meal and a warm bed for the night.

Every person was surprised at Mr. Bond's generosity. I was impressed with his business acumen. There was no doubt in my mind that the man could have run for election anywhere in the surrounding vicinity and he would have easily won whatever seat he chose to run for.

As each wagon and group headed off, we moved to the next.

Many of the people in Mitchell's half of the wagon train not only thanked Mr. Bond but Mitchell as well. When we got to my half, I got lots of handshakes and hugs - from a few women that I thought I barely knew - and from almost every child. Each little boy and girl wanted to say goodbye to Slowpoke. I told them that he was just up ahead and that he was waiting for their kisses, hugs, and head scratches.

Annie's mother asked two things: the location of the land office and where Slowpoke and Dusty were. She informed me that she would wait just past the supply wagon. Annie kissed me on the lips and headed off with her mother.

We eventually got to Nathanial's wagon. He collected the $5, asked the location of the land claim office, and informed me that he - too - would be waiting with Annie and her mother. I got a hug and kiss from Lydia, a hug and kiss from Ruth, and a salute from Jedidiah.

When Jasper's family headed out, I got a hug and kiss from Maybelle, squeezes and kisses from Edna, and a salute from Tolliver.

Having already watched the boys, Virgil grinned and saluted me as well.

As the last wagon pulled away, Mr. Bond turned to Mitchell and me.

"I want to thank you boys," he said. "I've done this three times now. It's heart-rending every single time. I warn them that we'll lose one in ten but it doesn't settle it until it's one of their own. We only lost one in 20 on this trip and I'm still not happy about it."

He looked at me and then back to Mitchell.

Mr. Bond held out his hand to him. Mitchell took it.

"You ran things exactly like you should. I have your pay here and a letter, recommending your services to any wagon master on this trail. You have my compliments and thanks."

He handed over two envelopes and then turned to me.

"You got too close to your people and I have to wonder how many of them have shared your bed. That being said, I have never had more compliments from the families in one of my wagon trains than I got from yours. Even the ones that hate your guts couldn't come up with any real answer when I asked them where you had failed. Quite honestly, you scare the shit out of me but I seriously believe that - if something had happened to me - you could have taken my place and gotten every single one of these wagons to this point right here - and it's hard for me not to respect the hell out of that. I have your pay here and a letter, recommending your services - despite my reservations - to any wagon master on this trail. You have my compliments and my thanks."

I accepted the two envelopes. As he walked away, I tore the envelopes open.

"Uh ... boss ...?" I called after him.

Without turning around he said, "Yes, it's twice what I promised you - both of you. Well done and the best of luck to you both."

I hurried to catch up with him. Mitchell did as well.

"Thanks, Mr. Bond," I said. "I have a question, if you have time."

"Talk while we walk, young man," he replied.

"I have a girl in Independence ..."

"Besides all of the ones you've been fucking for the last 25 weeks?!" he gasped.

"Uh ... yeah ..."

"Good and gracious Lord, boy!"

"I plan on grabbing some horses and racing back to Independence as soon as I make my land claim."

"What's your question?"

"How long will it take and what should I make sure to take with me?"

"12 weeks if you're quick and careful - but you'll need extra mounts. You'd best hurry or the passes will snow shut before you get through and you'll still be pushing Christmas to return. Heavy coats and plenty of layers. Light trail food and ride for as long as you possibly can. Switch horses the next day and keep riding."

"So, if there are three of us riding?"

"Fuck, boy! You'll need a half-dozen mounts and at least one pack-horse. Pray none of them goes down or you'll be risking death by freezing."

"Thank you, sir!"

"You realize that you're quite insane?" he asked.

"Motivated and determined," I replied.

He shook his head, untethered his mount, and swung into the saddle. As soon as Mitchell and I took possession of our horses, Cookie threw the brake on the supply wagon and then he and Mr. Bond headed off.

Mitchell held his hand out. I took it and shook it.

"Best of luck on the road," he said, grinning. "I'd wish you luck with the ladies but you seem to have no trouble in that department."

I laughed and said, "Best of luck, Mitchell."

He swung into the saddle, nodded, and headed off.

"Alright," I said, catching up to the others. "Who paid attention to how to find this land claim place?"

~~~

As Slowpoke and Dusty followed the wagons, I thumbed through the bills in the pay envelope. Mr. Bond had given me $100. Even if prices were the same as in Independence, I should be able to buy another mount and another pack-horse with that money. I was hoping, however, that prices would be lower. I glanced around me. There were more people on horses than anything else - although I did see one woman riding a cow side-saddle. She even winked at me. I tucked the money into my wallet and pocketed the envelope.

I pulled out the letter of recommendation. It was fairly straight-forward. Mr. Bond explained who he was, a brief history, and his journeys along the trail. After that, he went on to list my skills, accomplishments, and a few notes of praise from those in my care. At the end, he noted that I tended to carry my heart on my sleeve - which had its challenges - but that he had been unable to find a single person in the wagon train who had a serious complaint about me - and that the notes of praise were so long and wordy that he could only include a bare few.

As I thought back over the last 25 weeks, I breathed a prayer of thanks to Providence that Jasper's family had ended up in Mr. Bond's wagon train. I couldn't think of a better organized, nicer, more generous man. Among wagon train masters, I sincerely doubted that I would ever find one better.

We joined the queue at the Land Claim Office. Holly's father was just leaving as I arrived. He gave Nathanial and his daughter directions to the plot that he had claimed. He was delighted. The land already had a home built on it. The property owner had been found murdered. The officials posted in the paper for any surviving family members to come forward to claim it. The waiting period had run out and the land had been made available to be claimed once again. He tucked the deed under his arm, hugged his daughter, and hurried off. He even smiled at me as he passed.

It took a bit of time but there were several clerks working. They were not overly amused that a group of us were asking for plots of land that were adjacent, but it was also, obviously, not the first time it had occurred. An hour or so passed and we each had our deeds - as well as directions to reach them.

It was mid-afternoon and none of us had eaten. We found a restaurant and went inside. I glanced out of the window on the way to our table to find someone snooping around Jasper's wagon. I told them to order me something to eat and drink and hurried out to ask the person what they thought they were doing.

As soon as they saw me, the person took off like a bat out of hell. I walked across the lawn of the place, tapped on the window to get Jasper's attention, and motioned that I would be keeping an eye on the wagons. I yelled through the glass for him to bring me a sandwich or something when they finished. He nodded and gave me a sign that he understood.

I found a bench under a shade tree and quietly faded into the background. There was gravel under the bench - to keep the grass from growing. I reached down, picked up a few marble-sized stones and jumbled them around in my fingers to occupy myself.

No less than three different individuals - not counting the one I'd already run off - came snooping around the wagons to see what they held. Each time, I reared back and whipped a rock at them to get their attention. As soon as they saw me, I made a motion across my throat with my fingers - indicating what was going to happen if they didn't buzz off. Each one quickly disappeared. By the time my friends finished their meal - which wasn't all that long - I was beginning to think that the whole fucking town was nothing but a bunch of sneaks and thieves.

I quickly caught the others up on my concerns about the city and its inhabitants. I warned everyone to be on high alert to make sure that we weren't robbed before we got ourselves settled. As I'd sat on the bench and thought more about Holly's dad's claim, I began to grow concerned that there was some group of individuals who had organized themselves to murder new arrivals and make off with all of their possessions.

We compared notes, once again, on where our property lay. We turned south, moved toward the edge of town, turned west, and - once again - came to the city's edge. From there, we followed the dusty road off towards our plots.

We had traveled a couple miles before Holly pointed off to the south, reporting that her father's claim lay down that lane. She wanted to go see the house that he'd acquired. I admitted that I was curious as well - and the others agreed. We turned down the lane and followed it a mile before we saw the place. Suddenly, we stopped. I rode forward to find out why.

At the edge of the property, a half-dozen armed men were hiding behind some bushes and yelling at the house.

"That's your father's house, right?" I asked Holly.

She nodded and said, "Based on the directions he gave Nathanial and me."

"Annie," I called. "You up for a little deer hunting?"

"Deer hunting?" she asked.

I nodded my head behind me and pulled my Colt rifle from its sheath. Her eyes widened but then - as she studied the scene in front of us a little longer - she nodded.

"You all stand ready to defend yourselves," I told them as I unloaded Dusty.

Annie climbed onto his back, got settled, and accepted the rifle. I got out the musket. We checked our guns, made sure we had our reloads at the ready, and then I saddled up and we moved forward. I took us off to the right side of the lane. There was a husk of a wagon there. We got there and dismounted without drawing the attention of the group that was obviously sieging the house.

"Stay behind cover and be ready to fire," I told her. "Take down anybody that aims a gun this way."

"I've got you covered," she promised.

I stood and moved towards the group, just to the edge of their peripheral vision. There was a pile of firewood ahead of me which I hoped to use for cover, if needed, and I was pretty sure I was going to need it.

"Howdy boys!" I yelled.

One man looked my way and jostled his neighbor - who passed it down the line. I held my musket by the barrel, loosely in my right hand, with the muzzle pointed at the ground - like I was taking a walk in the woods.

"Who are you and what do you want?" one of the men asked.

"What're you fellers doin'?" I inquired.

"Never you mind," he replied. "Be on your way. It's none of your business."

"And what if I choose to make it my business?" I asked.

"You'll just get yourself killed," he shot back.

One of his men turned and saw the four wagons strung out along the lane. He bumped the speaker's shoulder and pointed.

"This here is our property," the man said. "We're evicting a squatter."

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Why?"

I tried to think back to what Holly's father's name was. All I could come up with was William. Lydia's husband had been a William but they'd called him Bill. He had died on Windlass Hill.

I took the little I knew, folded it with some shit, and made up my story.

"I asked the guy at the claims office about this place," I lied. "He told me the name of the owner. I came to see if I could buy it. If the name you tell me matches the name that he gave me - well then - you're just the man I'm lookin' to talk to. If not, then you're keepin' me from talkin' to that man and I'm liable to get a might bit pissed off about it."

I knew the winds were changing when the barrels of the men's guns shifted to point at me instead of the house.

"Larry! Run and get the others!" the speaker-man yelled behind him.

I dropped to one knee behind the wood pile, set my powder horn and bag of loads on the ground where I knew I could grab them without looking, and lined up on the speaker.

A guy at the far end of their line - Larry I presumed - leapt up, untied his horse, and swung into the saddle. He headed straight off across the meadow - straight for the road.

"Annie!" I hollered. "Shoot to injure - not kill!"

"Injure?!" she asked.

"Thigh or belly."

I watched their line - down the sights of my firearm - and held my breath. I heard the Colt crack. A moment later, Larry flinched. The colt cracked again. This time both the man and the mount flinched. The mount stumbled once, and slowed, but kept moving.

"I got him," Annie yelled.

"Gut or leg?" I asked back over my shoulder.

"Both," she replied.

"Good girl," I told her. "You ready to collect some antlers?"

"Give me a sec," she replied. "I want to reload."

"There's only six of them," I said. "You should have six shots left. Don't miss."

"Fuck you!" she yelled.

I laughed.

The speaker jostled the man next to him - who stupidly stood to his feet to target me.

I ducked as he fired. His shot hit the logs in front of me. I popped up, lined him up, and fired. I heard the report of Annie's rifle behind me. I had targeted his chest. It took him in the belly. Damned musket balls. Annie had, obviously, once again targeted the skull. Part of his brain sprayed the men behind him just before he dropped.

There was mass confusion in their ranks. They somehow still hadn't come to the realization that I was providing covering fire for the sniper behind me. As I watched their line, reaching down to refill my musket with powder and ball, they were focusing on me and ignoring her. I decided to use their ignorance to my advantage.

Every time they opened themselves up, I squared up on them - whether I was really ready to fire or not. One of the dumbasses would stand - or lean out from the bushes to target me and I'd make some stupid noise or jump around and then point my musket at them. Annie would fire and more brain matter exploded from the back of a man's skull.

"Golly Moses you motherfuckers are stupid!" I yelled after she dropped the fourth one.