Rekindled Love
Rekindled Love
An Oregon Trail Romance
Susan Leigh Carlton
Susan Leigh Carlton
Tomball, TX 77377
Description
Caroline and Ben grew up together, shared a desk in their one-room school, shared a first love, and shared their first kiss.
At fifteen, Ben’s family sold their farm and joined a caravan on the Oregon Trail.
Separated by half a continent, Caroline and Ben both grew up and moved on, marrying, having children and losing their spouses. They meet again years later through the mail and find that initial spark rekindled, can they get past their grief and find each other, and happiness together?
Previously
New Concord, Ohio, March 1846…
The two nine-year-olds watched the wagons pass on the corner of Third and Main Streets. “Where are they going?” Caroline asked Ben Palmer.
Ben was sure of the answer and said with confidence, “They’re going to Oregon.”
“How do you know?”
“Pa told me.”
Where’s Oregon?’
“It’s that way,” he said and pointed toward the Muskingum River, which neither of them had ever crossed.
“You don’t know either.”
“Do to.”
“Do not.”
“Sure is a lot of them,” she said.
“Sure is,” agreed Ben. “Pa just came out of the store, I got to go.”
“Bye, Ben.”
“Bye Caroline.”
* * *
Caroline Andrews was born on a farm near New Concord, Ohio, in April of 1837, to Samuel and Charity Andrews. Samuel was sure God would bless him with a son, at last giving him some free help in working the corn crop on his three hundred acre farm. In addition to corn, the year after Caroline was born, he set aside a small part of his farmland for tobacco, but depended on corn and hogs to make his living.
He was not blessed with a son and Caroline would be their only child. Caroline’s mother was a small but very attractive woman with long blonde hair and fair skin, typical of her German ancestors. Caroline inherited her mother’s features and coloring and her sweet disposition.
Caroline’s curiosity knew no bounds. Her mother often said Caroline’s first word was ‘why’. The insatiable curiosity fed a need to learn. When she began school at the age of six years, an entire new world opened for her. She had daily access to someone whose job it was to teach her and to answer her questions.
* * *
Church was over. Charity was standing outside, waiting for Caroline’s Sunday school class to let out when Edith Klein, the teacher in the small one-room school, approached.
“Edith! How are you? I haven’t seen you since school started. Are they keeping you hopping?”
“Yes, they are. I’ve never had a class like this before,” she said. “I’ve never seen the likes of that girl of yours. Every other sentence is a question.”
“I know that’s right. She’s been that way since she was three. I was glad when she finally got old enough to start school.”
“Well, between her and the Palmer boy, I have my hands full.”
“I’ll speak to her if she’s causing you any problems,” Charity said.
“Oh, she doesn’t act out or anything like that. She’s very polite, but she’s like a sponge, the way she soaks everything up. Ben is the same way. They ask more questions than the other eight combined. It’s a blessing to see children so anxious to learn.”
* * *
Benjamin Palmer…
Born in February, 1837, Ben Palmer received more attention than his older brothers. “Ma, why does Ben get to do everything and not get in trouble?” Leroy asked. “If I’d done that, I’d a got a licking for sure.”
“Well, Ben is the baby,” Alice Palmer answered her oldest son’s question.
“Ma, he’s nine years old. He ain’t no baby.”
“He’s my baby. You and Seth are not babies any more. Why, you’re almost men now. You have to help me watch out for Ben. I don’t want nobody picking on little Ben.”
From that day on, it was Little Ben. The Palmer boys scuffled with each other every day. The other boys in school learned if you fought one of the Palmer brothers, you fought them all. Leroy and Seth both deviled Little Ben.
“What happened to you, Ben?” his mother asked, taking note of his ripped shirt and dirty pants.
“I jumped out of the hayloft and missed the stack.” He didn’t mention he had been pushed by Seth, and Leroy hadn’t caught him as promised. Ben was not a tattle.
The Andrews and Palmer farms were a mile apart, separated by a creek. Isaac Palmer had switched all of his land over to tobacco with the exception of Alice’s garden to take advantage of the booming tobacco market. Samuel Andrews raised corn and hogs for his cash crops. He devoted ten acres to tobacco. Tobacco required attention from planting to drying and curing. The grain crops required far less attention, and could also be used to feed the hogs. Even with his three sons, Isaac still needed to hire additional help whereas Samuel only needed help at planting and harvesting time.
* * *
Caroline and Ben, 1852…
“Your pa sold the farm?” a stunned Caroline asked. “Where are you going to live?”
“We’re going to Oregon,” Ben said. “We’ve already bought a wagon. We have to leave pretty soon so we can get through the mountains before winter.”
“But school won’t be out by then; you’ll miss the rest of the year.”
“I know; I hate that part of it.”
“Why did your pa decide to leave?” she asked.
“Brown spot has ruined our crops for the past two years. Pa says he’s had enough of that and the hard winters here. There’s two other wagons from around here we’ll join up with when we leave. It’s likely we’ll get in with others later.”
Always full of questions, Caroline asked, “How will you know the way?”
“Pa said we’ll just follow along with the others from here, and join up with a real train in Indianapolis, and go to Missouri, and then get on with a big wagon train on the Oregon Trail.”
“It sounds kind of scary to me,” Caroline said. “That’s a long way to go and you don’t know what’s waiting on the way or at the other end.”
“I’m not scared; there’ll be a lot of people with us. When we get there, we’ll have land to build a house. Besides, they give every family six hundred forty acres, and anyone over eighteen can get one hundred and sixty acres so in three years, I can have my own farm. This is my big chance to get started.”
“I’m going to miss you, Ben. You’ve always been my best friend. We’ll probably never see each other again. That’s going to be hard. I sort of thought I would be your wife someday.”
“I thought so too,” he replied.
“Goodbye Ben.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, and then joined her parents.
* * *
The next day…
The sun peaked over the horizon, and revealed a blue sky with the eastern horizon painted with the pinks and reds of the new day. The covered wagon moved slowly down the road in front of the Andrews farm. Caroline could see three figures walking beside the mule drawn wagon, and a fourth, smaller person walking behind the two cows and another mule in back of the wagon. That’s Ben; I’ll never see him again. She watched through the window until the wagon was out of sight.
She sighed, and dressed for school. After she brushed her hair one hundred strokes, she went to the kitchen. “I saw the Palmer’s wagon go by a few minutes ago,” she told her mother. “I’m going to miss Ben. He was the nicest boy in our class.”
Her mother hugged her. “I know it’s hard to l
ose someone you’ve known all of your life. The memory will fade and you won’t think of him anymore.”
“I don’t want it to fade,” Caroline said. “I like Ben.”
“I know, honey, but that’s the way it is. People move on, and that’s what you have to do now, there will be someone come along and replace him.”
Chapter one
The Saddest Day
Roseburg, Oregon 1861
Jenny’s mother, Clara Stevens came to the kitchen door in response to Ben’s shout as he yanked back on the reins to stop the horses.
“What is it? Is it the baby?”
“It’s Jenny, Miss Clara. She’s real sick. You take Becky and I’ll get Jenny inside and go get the doctor.”
“Put her in her room. How long has she been like this?”
“She thought she had a cold, then last night it got a lot worse. I should have brought her in then, but she said she would be okay. I found her on the floor when I came in from the barn this morning. She needs the doctor.”
“Hurry, Ben,” Clara told him.
He tore out of the house and whipped the horses into a gallop. He pounded on the doctor’s door. Mrs. Coombs came to the door. “What is it, Ben?”
“Jenny’s real bad off, Mrs. Coombs. She needs the doctor. She’s at her mother’s house.”
“You go on back. I’ll get Jim started.”
“Yes ma’am, but please tell him to hurry.”
* * *
Jenny was coughing blood when he returned. “Is the doctor coming?” Clara asked.
“Mrs. Coombs said he would be right behind me. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“It doesn’t look good. She’s having trouble getting her breath.”
Doctor Coombs came in followed by his wife. “Ben, you go in the other room while I take a look at her.”
Ben went into the kitchen where her father, Jeb, was waiting. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“She was sneezing and coughing. We thought she had a cold, but yesterday, it got worse.”
“Good God, man. Why didn’t you bring her in then?”
“I wanted to, but she said no, she would be all right.”
“What’s taking so long?” Ben asked. “Why doesn’t the doctor do something?”
Mrs. Coombs came out of the room, trailed by Clara. “Can you get some boiling water? Jim thinks the steam might help her breathing.”
“I’ll put some on,” Jeb said.
“Would it be all right if I went in?” Ben asked.
“I think so. You go ahead. He may have to ask you to leave again, but go ahead.”
“Is she any better?” he asked the doctor.
Doctor Coombs shook his head. “There’s a lot of pneumonia going around. We’ve lost two in town this week, but they were both elderly. This is as bad as I’ve ever seen it.”
Her closed eyes fluttered open. When her voice came, it was weak. “Ben,” the gravelly whisper pierced the room. Her breathing was shallow. He had to put his ear close to her mouth to hear. “Ben,” a gasp, and a desperate struggle to get enough air to say what she had to say. “Becky is going to need a mother. Promise me you’ll find a good mother for her.”
“Jenny, don’t leave us,” Ben pleaded. “We can’t do it without you.”
“Promise me Ben. You have to promise,” the anguished voice whispered. “Promise me, Ben.”
“I promise, Jenny. I’ll take care of Becky.”
“I love you, Be…” Her eyes closed; she took her last breath. She was gone.
“Nooooooooo! Jenny, no,” he wailed. He wrapped his arms around the frail body. “We need you. Becky needs you.”
A hand rested on his shoulder. “She’s at peace now,” Jenny’s mother said.
He gathered his wife in his arms, rocking back and forth, whispering her name, crying, with tears cascading down his cheeks. “I want to be alone with my wife,” he said. They left him alone, cradling the still body.
“We’ll be going back to town,” Dr. Coombs said. “Do you want me to ask the undertaker to come out?”
“Please do,” Clara said.
“I’ll take care of it. Call me if you need me.” He nodded toward the closed door.
Two hours passed. Ben was still in the bedroom. Clara opened the door and started in. “Ben, I need to take care of Jenny.”
“No. No one’s going to touch her. Leave us alone.” He rocked back and forth; his face buried in her hair, the dried tears on his face shimmering in the flickering candle light.
She backed out of the room. “Jeb, you had better go get Alice.”
He nodded and went to the barn, saddled his horse and made the short ride to the Palmer farm.
He knocked on the door. When Alice saw his face, she asked, “Has something happened to Ben? Is he all right?”
“Jenny died a few hours ago,” he said, “Ben won’t let anybody in the room. Clara said you’d better come.”
“Jenny died? That can’t be. We just saw her last weekend.”
“It was the pneumonia. Doc Coombs said it was the worst he’s ever seen. Two people died in town this week.
“I’m going to have to get on back. There’s no telling what Ben might do in his state. The baby is asleep right now. We need your help.”
“We’ll leave as soon as we can get hitched up. You go on back.”
Alice had her shawl. “Let’s go,” she said to her husband. “We need to see about Ben and Becky.”
Chapter two
She’s Gone
“Where is he?” Alice asked, after hugging her best friend.
“He’s in the bedroom. He won’t talk to any of us.”
“Clara, I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am. A parent should never have to bury their child.”
“It is hard. Apparently she was sick several days and it turned really bad yesterday. So far, Becky seems to have missed it. She doesn’t know about her mother yet. Go on in. I hope you can get him talking.”
“He’ll talk to me or I’ll jerk a knot in his head. I know Jenny meant the world to him, but he has a daughter that needs him now.”
Her son was sitting by the bed, holding the hand of his late wife. “She’s gone, Ben. You have to accept it. You can’t bring her back.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t taken her to live in that drafty shack.”
“She was where she wanted to be. It wasn’t two weeks ago, she told me she was happier than she had ever been and was hoping for another baby.”
“It’s still my fault. We could have lived with you, or here. We could even have taken a house in town and I could have worked for the blacksmith.”
“I’ve got news for you. Your home is better than what we had when we first got here. It’s no more drafty than this one, and less than what we left in Ohio, or don’t you remember? Now, go wash your face and see to your daughter. Clara and I have to take care of Jenny.”
“No. I can’t do it without Jenny.”
Anger and sympathy united. “Benjamin Palmer! You’re not dumb, but right now, you’re acting as stupid as a pair of oxen. Now you do what needs to be done, or I’ll have your father and Jeb come in and take you. I’ll even send for Leroy and Seth if I have to.”
With reluctance, he let go of Jenny’s hand and the arm he was holding; stood, put his arms around his mother and bawled. “Why, Mama? Why did she have to die?”
“No one is promised tomorrow. When our time is up, the Lord calls us home. It was Jenny’s time to go. It’s sad for those left behind to mourn and miss them, but it’s the way things are.”
“Do you remember all of the graves we saw along the trail? There were some younger than Jenny, but she survived that, gave you all of the love she had, and then gave you a daughter. Would she want you to sit here and cry, or would she want you to go on living for her and your daughter?”
“Okay, Mama.” He walked over to the wash-basin and splashed cold water on his face. The kettle of water
he had brought at the doctor’s request caught his eye. “A lot of good that did.” His grief and anger mixed and boiled over. He swept the kettle from the stand, spilling its contents onto the floor, the bed, and Jenny.
“Oh , dear God,” he wailed and embraced the body of his wife again.
Alice went to the door and called out, “Isaac, please come and help me with our son.”
“What do you need?” Ike asked from the doorway.
“Clara and I need to take care of Jenny and Ben won’t let go.”
“Come on, son, there are things that have to be done and you have to let the women folk do them.”
“Leave me alone,” Ben said, and shoved his father’s arms away.
Ike had been toughened by years of farm work. His body was hard as any oak tree, and his arms were like limbs from the same tree. He wrapped them around his son and carried him from the room and deposited him at the kitchen table. “Now sit,” he ordered. He poured a cup of coffee. “Drink that.” He sat in the other chair. “Look at me when I talk to you.”
“It’s time for you to stand up like a man and face what has been laid upon you.”
“You’re not the only person that lost someone today. Clara and Jeb lost their only child. Rebecca lost her mother. Your mother and I lost a girl that was the same as our daughter. It’s hard, but life’s hard. You have responsibilities. Are you ready to take care of them or are you going to leave them for others to handle?”
The tears glistened in his eyes when Ben looked into the strength of his father. “I’m not as strong as you Papa. How would you feel if you lost Mama?”
“I would be sad, and I would miss her mightily. I would pray to God and ask him to take care of her for me, and then I would face the world.”
“That’s easy for you to say. It’s not the same.”
The iron grip tightened on his arm. It felt as if the fingers were digging into the bone. “You will never talk to me that way again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Pa. I meant no disrespect.”
“Look who’s awake,” Clara said. “I heard her crying. She’s dry now.” She handed her to Ben. “You hold her while I fix a bottle for her.”