Free Gone West by Kathleen Karr Page B

might even pick up a few pointers for future crossings.”
     
    Jamie loosed his death grip and did as bid. Then he was back, holding her less tightly.
     
    “We’ve shoved off, Ma! We’re floating now! Can you feel it?”
     
    “Yes.” Maggie tried to control the quaver in her voice. “Yes, I certainly do feel it.” It was a strange sort of a floating sensation, the wagon swaying and complaining in ways it was unused to. It made her feel completely out of control. The trail might be hard, but at least it kept her feet firmly on the solid earth.
     
    “Long time since we’ve been on the water, Ma. Remember when we crossed the Mississippi after Nauvoo? Just after Charley was born, that was, and Pa expecting a posse from Carthage on our backs the whole time ‘cause we’d consorted with the Mormon doctor, or maybe even a posse of Mormons on account of the press.” His forehead wrinkled a moment at the thought of two posses potentially after them before he leaped ahead. “ ‘Course, the ferry was considerable bigger there, almost like a real boat. Then there was the one on the Missouri, before we got to wintering in Independence~”
     
    “You remember all that, Jamie?”
     
    He was insulted. “It was only last year, Ma!”
     
    Maggie smiled. “You’re so right. I forget what a young man you’re becoming. Especially since your last birthday.” She forced herself to peek through the arched canvas opening ahead of them. They were approaching the shore at an angle. It must be the currents. But the far bank did seem to be coming closer. They might even be halfway across. “There will be many more rivers to ford on this trip, Jamie, but I doubt any of them will be as deep as this.”
     
    “I know, and they’ve got nice names, too. The Platte. The Snake . Imagine naming a river snake .” He chuckled, and ventured another look through the side flap. “Ma! I can see Dickens and Miss Sally! They’re swimming for all they’re worth, and don’t look too happy. And there’s Brandy and Duke coming up. Buster is way over to the side. Looks like he might land a fair piece downstream. Can’t see Checkers or the rest, though. Gosh, aren’t we going to have a time rounding them all up when Pa follows us!”
     
    Maggie gave her son a hug. He was getting her across, not the other way around. She stared through the side opening with him. She could see the tobacco-chewing Pappan leaning into his pole from his perch in the canoe. His hairless chest was glossy with sweat and spray, and glistened a fine bronze in the sun. He was worth the six dollars and change.
     
    Almost before she realized it, they were bumping softly into the far bank. The ferrymen were hooking them to teams of oxen to pull them up the slope, through the quarter mile of sandy flats to solid land and the waiting wagons of the train beyond. Maggie sent a heartfelt `Thank you’ to the heavens.
     
    By the time their wagon was settled with the others Johnny would be almost across with the caravan. She wouldn’t even think about his following the Butlers downstream.
     
    Everyone still fording the river made it. Then there was the stock to catch. Johnny took off with the other men after their animals. The women used the time and the river to catch up on their washing. By dark each white-top was covered with freshly laundered clothing and linens, spread out to catch the breezes. Maggie had the children asleep when Johnny finally returned with the last of the oxen. He tethered them to graze and wearily stopped at his own hearth, accepting the coffee and food she’d kept warming for him.
     
    “It’s rice for a change. I thought you might like it. I fried it with wild onions and a little bacon. Has it gotten too dry?”
     
    He offered a smile through his full mouth and swallowed. “Ambrosial.”
     
    “Johnny. Your father always used to say that.” Maggie felt tears welling up at the sudden memory of the old man. The day had been too long. She