Chapter 18

We moved out after breakfast and our only ceremony for the dead Indians had been dragging them out of the way so we could get past without running over their corpses. We weren't worried about desecrating the bodies, we just didn't want to be bothered with the rough ride they'd cause. Shit, they'd taken a shot at raping, robbing, and killing and they'd come up on the short end of the stick. Fuck a bunch of noble red savages.

For several days the traveling was back to boring and uneventful. The next thing that interested me was when we stopped at Soda Springs and spent a day resting and enjoying the bubbling waters there. Jack warned us not to drink any, but of course a few dyed in the wool idiots didn't pay any attention. They earned several days of cramping stomachs and runny shit for their efforts and I was pretty sure they'd be paying closer attention the next time Jack gave instructions.

A few days after Soda Springs we came up to Fort Hall. It wasn't a major metropolitan center but there were people there and we stopped for a day. My women wanted to take a look around and we did, but aside from a pair of boots that happened to fit Anita nearly perfectly we didn't find anything we wanted to own.

Our next break from mule ass viewing was a few weeks later at Fort Boise. Our destination was the new one. Twelve or fifteen years ago the original Fort Boise had been abandoned over irritating flooding and deadly Indian attacks. We only stopped for a couple of days to rest the stock and patch up any wagon troubles anyone had. We were headed for wetter traveling though and everyone went over the caulk and tar routine again.

From Fort Boise the trail traveled North Northwest for a good while until we basically turned left to skip the old route up to the Whitman Mission where years earlier Dr Marcus Whitman and his wife, Narcissa - Methodist Missionaries - had built the large mission and provided help and care to both immigrants and the local Cayuse Indians. A devastating measles epidemic broke out in 1847 and since the white people lived over it and many Indians did not it made the Indians suspicious. The whites present were killed and the mission was burned.

It didn't really mean much to us though. We weren't headed there and besides there was nothing to see at this late date. We could almost feel the end of the trip rushing up on us now. Spirits were high as everything seemed to be going well.

By the time we made it to the cutoff for Barlow Toll Road things were going fine. Most of the tough spots had been made bypassable by enterprising men. We were able to pay tolls to get by the bad places instead of sacrificing goods, livestock, and lives. I don't know about the others but I was more than happy to pay seven seventy-five per wagon and ten cents per head to cross the Deschutes. In fact I didn't hear a single person bitch about it.

I'm not sure about everyone else, but I was happy as a pig in shit when we rolled to a stop outside Oregon City. The journey was over and we were where we'd headed, mostly.

We had a sort of shindig on our last night together. At least the ones that weren't completely sick of the other travelers were. Almost miraculously William had been the only one to be killed or die during the whole trip, except for Bill's suicide by stupidity. I even splurged and took a shot of whiskey in his honor, nearly choking myself into joining him with the unaccustomed foul brew.

After the celebrating had mostly died down, my bunch, along with Jasper, Blossum, and Swallow were just relaxing and drinking coffee around our table.

"Well damned, we're here now. What do we do next?" Jasper asked.

"I'm not sure what to do first," I said, and it was the truth.

"I'm not sure about where we go from here, but I do know the first thing Jack, you, and I have to take care of," Helen said, and I just waited her out.

"The three of us need to go and see the lawyer Bill made arrangements with. We'll have to report Bill's untimely demise and establish you as my husband in the eyes of the law.

"Even though most of the money Bill sent to a bank here in advance was from my previous husband's estate, I'll still need a husband to avoid trouble using it. In fact I don't want to use it but I do want to make sure you can," Helen said.

I remembered now, after I'd killed Bill she'd told me about the cash and gold in the wagon and other money Bill had scattered out in banks. I don't think she'd mentioned some of it was here in Oregon City, but I sure as hell didn't mind the fact.

"I think the lawyer was also scouting around for properties Bill could buy. Bill wasn't very interested in trying to homestead, or whatever you have to do to get the free land," Helen said.

"I don't think there's much of the free land left anyway and I'm sure I couldn't support my enlarged family on a hundred and sixty acres no matter how hard I worked, but why does Jack need to go with us?" I asked.

"So he can verify Bill was killed by Indians during the trip and can swear he married us a few days later," Mary said, and smiled so innocently.

Of course all the others laughed like hell at me, but I had the last laugh even though I didn't take it in the crowd. Not only did I now have what was surely a rich wife, I had several helpers for her in the bedroom department. I celebrated that happy coincidence later after we were all in our wagons supposedly sleeping.

Helen had already talked things over with Jack without mentioning it to me and he was Johnny on the spot just after sunrise while breakfast was being cooked. He and I drank coffee and got our lies straight while the food was in progress, then we ate all we could and drank more coffee while waiting for Helen to get dressed.

We struck out walking toward town to look for the lawyer's place later and it was lucky that Mister Jennings offices weren't far. There were two secretaries in a sort of waiting room and after she had the details one of them went to tell what she knew.

I thought it was a little odd we were escorted back into his office right away when she came back.

I'd never had any use for a lawyer before and I didn't expect to like Don Jennings, he surprised me a little bit though. He was a glad hander, the type I could take or leave, but he wasn't so bad after that. He let Jack tell the tale we'd made up and didn't even ask any questions. He just told us he'd have one of the secretaries fix the papers and we could come back in and sign them day after tomorrow.

"You probably understand this isn't such an unusual circumstance, although it came up more in the past than it does now. At any rate there should be no problems. There's a chance you'll need to appear before a judge, but even that isn't likely. I'm sure Mr Jenkins won't need to do anything else at all except sign his statement.