Oregon National Historic Trail -- Fiction; Pioneers -- United States -- Fiction
"Same thing you did, Joe. I will say, though, that it's some of the
neatest shooting I ever saw. Lard Head was standing against Frawley
Thompson's fence, and that bullet whistled close enough to curl his
hair. I'll bet there's one Indian scared sober."
"Was he drunk?"
"He's always drunk."
"Makes no difference," Joe declared. "That kid of mine has to have some
respect for people, Indians included. And he's got to realize that
rifles are dangerous."
Pete said dryly, "I kind of think he's beginning to. Shall we bring your
mare mule in and shoe her?"
"Reckon."
They roped the mare mule, dragged her to the forge, threw her, and shoed
her. She struck viciously when they let her up, but Joe had expected the
attack and he dodged it. They put both mules back in their pasture and
Joe looked uneasily at the house. Emma never struck any of the children,
and Joe had just administered Tad's first spanking. If there were to be
repercussions, they might as well be faced right now. Joe said,
"Excuse me a minute, Pete."
"Sure."
Joe walked nervously toward the house. Beyond much doubt, they would
start for Oregon tomorrow and he had had few arguments with Emma. He
felt uneasily that beginning their trip with a quarrel would be a bad
omen, and sure to bring bad luck. Joe quailed when he looked in at the
door, for Emma bristled to meet him.
"What did you do to Tad?"
Joe braced himself, then became a little angry. "I paddled his hinder
for him, hard as I wanted to lay it on!"
"If you hadn't, Joe Tower, I'd have paddled yours! The idea! Shooting at
that poor, besotted Indian!"
Joe asked in astonishment, "You're not mad at me!"
"I would be, if you hadn't done a father's duty!"
He put his hand on her shoulder for a moment, and gave her a wry smile.
"Did Tad tell you?"
"Tad hasn't been near the house. Barbara told me." She wilted into his
arms. "Oh, Joe, do you suppose--?"
Because he knew her so well, Joe knew what she was thinking. At eight
years of age all youngsters were harmless, but at eighteen some might be
bad and some good. Joe crushed his wife to him.
He said, "We'll teach him. It's just that he has to learn some things
the hard way."
"Oh Joe! I'm glad we're going! Oregon will be good for him!"
Joe's heart skipped a beat with delight at hearing her say this. "It
will give him a chance to work his vinegar off. I'm not so sure he could
do that if he stayed here. He'd want a farm of his own, and Elias would
have to loan him some of the money to buy it, and the first time Elias
pressed him there'd be fur flying. It wouldn't be Tad's either."
They felt a tender intimacy, a closeness that made them cling together.
Joe cleared his throat. He had deceived her, and now he must undo that
deception.
He said, "I didn't give your dishes to Helen."
"But," her eyes puzzled, "I asked you to."
"I know. I made a box for them and put them in the wagon instead."
A little anguished shadow flitted across her face. "I couldn't bear to
have them broken."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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