Soon they were all wedged into the wagon, Ma in the middle flanked by Danny and Ian, with Kate up front, all of them sitting on whatevercrates were the most level. At the back, Pa pulled the canvas cover as tight as he could. Still, there were holes at either end that gave perfect little windows to what was outside, like portholes in a ship showing the murky dangers of the ocean. Except these holes would let in any water that came near them. The storm advanced in front of the sun, plunging them into a baleful half-light.
“Guess we’ll see how well this canvas holds up,” Ian murmured softly.
“A truer test there never was,” Pa said as he settled his big frame on a small barrel of lard.
Danny rubbed his hands together almost gleefully. “We’re gonna see the Elephant all right!”
“I’d just as soon have never glimpsed the thing,” Ma said with a scowl.
“Aw, Ma, what’d be the fun in that? Goin’ all the way to Oregon without anythin’ the least excitin’?”
Ma pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders. “You may call it exciting, Daniel, but I call it entirely vexatious.”
Kate smiled. She couldn’t help agreeing with her twin. Her blood was pumping in anticipation. She peered out. The white tops of the wagons fairly glowed against the grim sky. The storm was nearly on them. She couldn’t see the front edge of it through the small hole, just a wall of darkness deepening with every second.
“Don’t ya worry, Edie. ’Tis but a momentary trial. We’ll be through and done with it in no time,” Pa said, his green eyes twinkling even in the dim interior.
“And come out the other side as wet as drowned ducks.” Ma shivered. “I hope the flour stays dry.”
Ian put a comforting arm around their mother, steady and sweet as always. “The Lord will see us through, Ma. ‘In every high and stormy gale, my Anchor holds within the veil,’” he said, quoting her favorite hymn. Kate smiled affectionately at her older brother. At twenty-one, he had the wisdom of a man twice his age.
Pa bellowed out in an exuberant baritone: “‘On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand! All other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand!’”
“I’m more worried about the mud,” Ma said, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Fat raindrops began to fall, hitting the canvas overhead like coins dropping from the sky, and the timbre of the storm shifted. Alongside the near constant thunder was a low, rushing sound. Kate looked out her porthole. As she watched, the wind rushed down across the hills like a giant’s hand sweeping over the grasses and pressing them flat to the earth.
“It’s comin’!”
The wind hit like a locomotive. The wagon rocked and the canvas cover snapped, the ties keening their protest. And with the wind came the rain, falling nearly sideways under the force of the gale, battering their meager shelter with such ferocity she couldn’t hear what Pa was shouting from the other end of the wagon. Then she saw him take a quilt and hang it in front of the hole to try and keep some of the water out. She did the same, struggling to keep it in place with the wind flapping it against her body. Danny clambered over to help, and they stood there with their backs pressing against the quilt, grinning at each other and getting soaked. But at least the worst of it was staying off their provisions. The water sluiced off the canvas in waterfalls as the storm battered against it for what seemed like hours.
Kate peeled back the blanket, peering out to check on what she could see of the stock in the makeshift corral. Most of them had bunched together and turned their rumps to the wind, keeping their heads down and soldiering through it. All but one. Kate squinted through the rain. A mule was kicking up a fuss right outside their wagon, braying and tossing his head. She could see the whites of his eyes shining through the gloom.
“Don’t you dare, Joe. Don’t you even think about it,” she muttered to herself. That good-for-nothing mule was staring at the chain with a crazed look in his eye. “He’s gonna jump the chain!” she shouted to Danny.
“Who is?” he shouted back.
“Who do you think?”
Danny scowled. “That darn mule!”
Without another thought, they dropped the blanket and loosened the ties on the canvas. Kate heard Ma’s faint shout but ignored it as they clambered out into the deluge.
Kate was immediately drenched. The wind battered her with its fists, tugging her hair out of its braid and whipping it wildly around her face. The raindrops felt like a thousand needles pelting her through the thin fabric of her dress. Danny climbed down beside her, and they ducked under the chain. Joe whirled and reared, braying like it was the end of the world. Kate and Danny stood in front of him under the pounding rain, spreading their arms and making a human wall, calling to him above the storm and trying to convince him not to jump. Joe kicked out in frustration, then backed up, haunches bunching under him. Kate lunged forward with Danny right beside her, filling the void; if Joe had enough space to think he could make a run for it, he surely would. Finally corralled by Kate and Danny and backed up against the rest of the herd, Joe had nowhere to go.
As quickly as the storm had hit, it moved away. Within minutes the rain eased to a drizzle, and the rage of the wind was spent, fading to a fitful breeze. Joe shook his head and gave a final bray, then settled next to the rest of the stock as if he hadn’t just lost his mind. Kate lowered her arms and shook the rain from her hands. She looked over at Danny. He was splattered in mud from head to toe and grinning.
“You look like a drowned rat!” Kate said.
“Could say the same for you,” he retorted and shook his head like a dog, sending water spraying.
Kate laughed, then hugged her arms around herself, shivering. “I’m freezin’. I’m goin’ back inside.”
They climbed back into the wagon, laughing and arguing over who was covered in more mud.
“Why on earth did you two go out in that?” Ma chastised.
Kate found a somewhat dry spot on the mostly soaked blanket then pulled her hair over her shoulder to wring it out. “Joe nearly jumped the chain. Had to make sure he didn’t.”
