Tom Gordon

Previously

Sarah Beauchamp and her father Maurice are part of a wagon train traveling to Oregon in the 1800s.

Chapter 3

On the fifth day out, Maurice's wagon broke a wheel. The travelers lined up in rows and helped unload the supplies. When the wagon was lightened, a group of men lifted the broken wheel off the ground and replaced it. Now, all that was left to do was reload the supplies. This was the first test that the group could work together to reach their destination.

One of the men who helped was Tom Gordon, a young man from Edinburgh, Scotland. Tom was a handsome young man. He had just turned eighteen. He was tall, well over six feet, and had long reddish hair. He was attempting to grow a beard but wasn't having much success.

His parents had died of typhoid two years earlier, and he was making the journey alone. Tom came from hard-working stock. He was a natural farmer, a trait that would serve him well as he set out to raise a family in the west.

The young man approached Sarah as they were loading the last of the supplies.

“Hello. My name is Tom.”

“I'm Sarah. It was nice of you to help.”

“On the trail, we have to all band together,” Tom said. "When we get to the next settlement your father's going to have to buy a new wheel.”

“We planned for emergencies. Papa has some money set aside for it.”

“That's good. It cost me all I had to outfit my wagon. I'd be in bad shape if I had trouble.”

“I'm sure everyone would help you. Like you say, on the trail, we have to work together.”

Sarah and Tom were the only ones of their age in the group. It was natural that they began to walk together. There was little else to do on the trip but walk.

Sarah loved to write poetry. This journey promised to provide enough material to fill several books. With her long brown hair and bright blue eyes, she looked like a poem.

She would read some of her poems to Tom as they traveled. Tom didn't understand all of them, but he pretended to be fascinated by Sarah's ability. He could listen to the sound of her voice forever.

Sarah had attended finishing school in France and carried herself with the grace of a fine lady. In France, she would have been courted by dozens of wealthy men, but rich men were few and far between in America.

That didn't matter to Sarah. She would be happy as the wife of a teamster. A life spent traveling would suit her fine. Even though the clothes of a frontier woman were coarse Sarah would wear them with grace. But not on this trip. On this trip, she would dress like a fine lady with billowy dresses and several petticoats and bonnets with ribbons.

She tied the skirts up as best she could to keep them out of the mud, but soon gave up and let them become tattered and soiled. No matter, when they got to Oregon, she would make new dresses.

Sarah's mother passed away from dysentery shortly after arriving in America. She never got the chance to see the new country that she wanted to be a part of. Sarah's father thought of returning to France, but he had become captivated by this new world and stayed. Some said it was to honor his wife, but Maurice knew it was for himself.

Things happened fast on a pilgrimage. Sarah and Tom grew fond of each other. As the weeks passed, they walked together and talked about their dreams for a new life.

“What do you want to do, when we reach Oregon?” Sarah asked.

“Open a general store and raise a family. My father was a storekeeper. There's a good living to be made in it.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Sarah said. “It will be a good life. I want to be a school teacher. There is so much teaching that needs to be done.”

As the weeks passed, Tom lost his shyness. One day he looked Sarah in the eyes. “I realize we hardly know each other, but I've grown fond of you, and I think you feel the same. Maybe we could achieve our ambitions together. I could make you happy, Sarah.”

“You make me happy just thinking about it.”

Tom leaned in and kissed Sarah.

Sarah held him and whispered. “Let's make that our plan.”

To be continued . . .