Dreams Beneath Your Feet (22 page)

BOOK: Dreams Beneath Your Feet
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Rideo, ergo sum,
” he declared, and braced Hannibal by the shoulders.

“You came, my friend, you saw, and you have truly conquered.” Hannibal hadn't seen the fort in half a dozen years.

“I have great responsibilities,” said McLoughlin. “Join me in the sitting room.”

It was a warm-looking room, luxuriously furnished and smelling of leather books and waxed floors. The doctor invited Julia to sit beside him on a sofa. At another time her heart would have been touched. She hadn't seen a sofa in a dozen years.

The doctor addressed Hannibal. “How may I be of service to you?”

Julia spoke up. “Dr. McLoughlin,” she said, “we come to you on a matter of great urgency. Our daughter Esperanza left her husband, fled here for help, probably carrying a newborn child. Is she here?”

McLoughlin's imperial manner evaporated. He put his arm around this woman he'd never met before. “Oh, my poor dear,” he said.

Julia burst into tears.

He lifted her by the hand and led her away. “Come to my office,” he said to everyone. “It's more private.”

 

E
SPERANZA RAN INTO
the room calling in the Crow language, “Mother, Mother!”

She hurled herself into her mother's arms and broke in huge, breath-sucking sobs.

Dr. McLoughlin left discreetly.

When she recovered slightly, Esperanza said to Flat Dog over Julia's shoulder, “Papa.” And to Sam, “Papa.” She reached out her hands to both of them.

Hannibal decided he should follow Dr. McLoughlin. Jay sat on the floor close to Esperanza.

The story tumbled out like water over falls, all full of turbulence. The day of the birth, alone and afraid. The effort of the delivery, followed by the bliss of holding the baby. The sense that something was wrong, but inability to see in the half darkness. The sight of the cord, the fierce cutting, the unwinding—all too late.

“It's all my fault,” Esperanza said. “I was too slow to understand. I couldn't see well.”

“If Joe had been there,” said Flat Dog, “he would have seen.”

“I've thought so much about it since I left him,” Esperanza said. “He was gone most of the time. Hunting, trapping, drinking, all the things he likes to do with his friends. Sometimes I've hated him. Sometimes I've told myself he was only being Joe, just like always. ‘No man like Joe.' ”

Sam just held her hands, looked into her eyes, and felt how much he loved her.

“How did you get here?” said Flat Dog.

“I rode Vermilion. Left when Joe was over at Doc's.”

“Have you been treated well here?” asked Jay.

“Dr. McLoughlin has been so nice. He gave me a job in the kitchen right here in the governor's house, and they gave me a bed here with the servants. The doctor didn't want me out in Kanaka Village in case Joe came and was mad.” She snuffled. “I've eaten better here than in my entire life.”

They had a lot more emotional conversation. Sam savored every word. He savored even more his daughter's hand in his own.

Finally Sam put it to her. “Do you want to go on to California with us?”

Esperanza said, “I want to be with my mother and my two fathers.”

 

A
FTER MAYBE HALF
an hour, Dr. McLoughlin rapped lightly on the door.

“Come in.”

He and Hannibal entered, an aroma of cigar smoke and an aura of camaraderie wafting in their wake.

“May we offer you a place to stay tonight?” Dr. McLoughlin said to the group. “We have accommodations for visitors.”

“That would be very kind,” said Julia.

“And I would appreciate your being my guests at dinner. We like to feed our guests well.”

Jay spoke up. “Dr. McLoughlin, I have a special request. My mother is your cook.”

“What's her name?” said McLoughlin.

“Maylea Palua.”

“She's our chief cook!” cried McLoughlin. “She's excellent.”

“May I see her now?”

“Certainly.”

“She's in the kitchen,” cried Esperanza. “I was just working with her.” The girl was excitable.

“Also, Dr. McLoughlin, would you invite her to dinner with the rest of us?”

Hannibal saw conflict tighten the doctor's face. He was bound by strict ideas about the superiority of Englishmen. But his eyes softened. This was a special occasion in what was truly a New World.

“I can do better than that. We shall free her from her duties,” he declared, “invite her to spend the afternoon with us touring the premises, and ask her to join us at dinner.”

 

H
OW ON EARTH
, thought Julia,
is Jay going to keep his secret with his mother around everybody?

The solution turned out to be simple. Maylea spoke only Hawaiian and Chinook. As a matter of fact, Jay and his mother had most of the fun on the tour. They rode Jay's gelding together, because Maylea had never been on a horse before.

The doctor was as kind to Maylea as to anyone, deliberately including her in the conversation and waiting for Jay to tell his mother what was said.

At the back of the riding party Sam noticed something. “He's kind,” Sam murmured to Hannibal, “but he's kind like he's God and we're his children.”

“British imperialism,” said Hannibal. “We fought a war to give that the boot.”

“I don't think I like God,” said Sam.

Hannibal grinned. “Here's a truth about the four winds, Mother Earth, and Father Sky. They're real, and they're the same for everyone.”

Dr. McLoughlin showed off the crops, orchards, and dairies. “We have met the Company's goal of being independent for our comestibles,” he said. Only Hannibal knew what he meant, but the others could guess. He also had established shops for all the everyday work of a town, blacksmithing, wheel making, barrel making, sewing, and the like. His eyes gleamed with proprietorship. “I regret that this is too vast an estate to see in a single day.”

Sam and Hannibal smiled at this sideways brag.

“The missions in California have accomplished nothing so fine,” said Hannibal.

“And nothing at all anymore,” the doctor said with a tight smile.

Esperanza showed them the room she had shared for nearly one moon with other kitchen workers. In it were the few belongings she'd brought from Joe's cabin, her clothes, two blankets, and a cradleboard.

“I made the cradleboard myself,” she said. The pride showed even through her wan voice.

The front piece was fully beaded in Crow blue, Cheyenne pink, and white.

“Beautiful,” said Julia.

Esperanza grimaced.

They had a sumptuous meal with everyone in good spirits. Esperanza seemed giddy with happiness and drank a little too much wine.

Three parents, the grown-up daughter who was not quite a parent, and three children shared a room. When the oil lamps were wicked out, Sam, Flat Dog, and Julia lay in the dark thinking
of the boy who had died, their first grandchild. Death corraled each one in his own mind, lonely and afraid.

 

F
ROM THERE
O
REGON
was easy business for the Morgan–Flat Dog family. The White-Headed Eagle himself rode upriver with the family to the Willamette Falls, to show them how he had laid out a town plat on his land claim there and was offering lots for sale. He was also about to get his mill running.

“The Methodists have recently claimed the same land,” he declared, “that I filed on in 1829. My claim should take precedence, and I trust it will. Over-patriotic, those
missionaries
.”

He put a little twist on “missionaries” that tickled Hannibal. Though the doctor was a Catholic, he had strictly forbidden any attempt to interfere with the religions of Indians of his territory. The Methodists took the opposite attitude. And while the Methodists were quick with criticism of McLoughlin, they had to admit he'd invariably been kind to them. If he hadn't advanced them provisions on credit to get through their first winters here, they would have starved.

“Everyone knows this will be American Territory, south of the Columbia,” said McLoughlin. “I plan to live here myself, when I retire.” He looked at the immense power of the Falls. “What energy for a mill,” he murmured.

He rode up the Tualatin River with the family to see the horses and was delighted. Hannibal insisted that he get on several of the saddle mounts and ride in the hackamore style they'd been trained in.

“Capital!” he said. “First class!” He followed that with a bid for the entire herd. “Or if you will accept a letter of credit,” he said, “I will give you one to the Hudson's Bay in Yerba Buena, on San Francisco Bay. My daughter and son-in-law have just started our new post there.”

Yerba Buena. The name made Sam think how soon he would see Grumble and at Monterey Tomás, Abby, and others.

He talked the offer over quietly with Hannibal and Flat Dog.

“We could probably get more if we took our time and sold them a few at a time,” said Hannibal.

“He's offering a lot of money,” said Flat Dog. A dozen years' wages for an ordinary worker, in fact.

“I'd like to get on the trail to California,” said Sam.

“And we're indebted to the doctor,” said Hannibal.

They accepted.

“In gold,” Flat Dog told McLoughlin.

 

I
N THEIR TIPI
, back on the Tualatin Plains. Warm evening air cozied up to them like a blanket. They sat outside and ate and talked quietly. They discussed teaching Joe Meek a lesson for abandoning Esperanza, but they didn't have the heart for it. Julia said, “Being gone, being drunk—just Joe being Joe.”

Esperanza said, “I don't want to go anywhere near him again, ever.” She added, “No man like Joe.”

Otherwise they were lost in their own thoughts. Jay wanted nothing but to get out of Oregon and into California, where he would be safe. Esperanza huddled close to Julia and pecked at her food. Azul and Rojo played quietly. Flat Dog and Julia sat close to each other, somber. All the great labors were behind them and the dream of California on the near horizon.

Sam shared the feelings, but he also felt empty. Hanging from a lodge pole behind Esperanza was the cradleboard, the one she'd spent countless hours beading. A work of art. But it was empty. One place at his family table would always be empty.

 

T
HE NEXT MORNING
a Frenchy messenger arrived in a lather from Dr. McLoughlin. First he handed them a good map. A glance showed that it was even better than they needed. Up the Willamette River to Salem, three days, the Frenchy said, pointing. The Methodists had a mission there. Farther up the Willamette
several days and over a divide at its head to the Umpqua River. “Indians
dangereux,
” the Frenchy said, “very treacherous. Maybe ten year ago zey wipe out party of your Captain Jedediah Smith completely, but for three men.”

Over another divide to the Rogue River and up that to its head. When you cross Siskiyou Pass, you're in California. South straight past Mount Shasta, a volcano, to the head of the Sacramento River, and down it all the way to San Francisco Bay. Probably more than seven hundred miles altogether, about two months' travel. Rugged country, those mountains at the border of Oregon and Alta California.

Then, like an afterthought, the Frenchy handed Sam a letter. “It come on big ship
de la mer
only late yezzerday. Ze doctor, he t'ink maybe you want.”

Sam opened the letter, saw it was in Spanish, and recognized the handwriting of Tomás.

At Santa Fe
November 2, 1840

 

Dear Uncle Grumble—

I write this news to you and Aunt Abby and trust that you will forward it to Sam.

Sam winced a little at the word. “Sam” instead of “Dad.” That was one of the ways Tomás used to put distance between himself and his adopted father. Funny, when Tomás was just twelve, it was he who had the idea of adopting Sam as his father.

I have been offered a great opportunity by de Vrain, one of the great traders of this city. On condition of raising my own capital, I am permitted to join in the enormous de Vrain trading caravan bound to Chihuahua, the mining district, below, and on to Mexico City. Our old friend Sumner has put up the capital, as he often did for my father, and we will share the profits equally.

I look forward to a journey rich in experience and earnings. As you know, I have not been in my native mountains, the Sierra Madre Occidental, in a dozen years, nor have I ever seen the land beyond them, the principal cities and industries of my native land, and the capital. You can imagine my excitement!

Sam hoped Tomás wasn't planning a side trip to his birth village. When the Apaches made the raid that enslaved Tomás, they killed the men of the village, including Tomás's father, and the small children.

You and Sam will understand that this is too great a chance to pass up. Though it delays my arrival in California for about a year, I will arrive as a man better prepared to start a prosperous life.

Please give my affection to Abby, and when my father arrives, tell him I shall make him proud of me.

Your devoted

Tomás

Sam folded the letter and put it away.
I'd rather he was just here. Just here with us.

 

 

 

Forty-three

A
T FIRST LIGHT
of the day of departure Sam daydreamed of Monterey. The sunlight on the bay, like no other light in the world. He saw the mission and its fine buildings, and the cemetery where Meadowlark was buried.

His mind played back good times with the best friends of his first days as an adult on his own, Grumble and Abby. Also his longtime partner, Gideon Poorboy. After Sam had to cut Gideon's gangrenous leg off, the peg-legged man became Monterey's expert silversmith and goldsmith. Sam remembered the two women he had loved, both gone over. He brought back to mind the day he bought Tomás out of slavery. Tomás was an ache in Sam's chest.

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