Where the Trail Ends: American Tapestries by Melanie Dobson Page B

good teacher.”
    “You would be a good teacher for me.” She laughed lightly. “Or perhaps I could teach you.”
    “I do not think so—”
    She stood and stepped toward him, reaching for his hand. “I am a very good teacher.”
    He turned quickly and plucked his cloak off the stand, throwing it over his shoulder. Perhaps in this case it was better to be like Joseph in the Bible...and flee.

Chapter Nine
    “Pull harder!” Jack yelled as the men tugged on the ropes that were wrapped around trees and held the Kneedlers’ wagon back even as the oxen inched down the steep slope. The men had spent an hour chaining locks on the wheels and then rigging up a pulley to lower the animals and wagons to the bottom.
    Micah lay on a quilt, asleep on the ground beside Samantha, as Papa helped the men with the pulley. She petted Boaz as they waited, so grateful that he’d led them to Micah. Now she prayed that rest was the best cure for her brother. And that he’d give up his penchant for exploring on his own in the wilderness.
    The Kneedlers’ wagon made it safely down the slope along with the Parkers’ and Jack’s, but the next one, owned by the Oxfords, did not. One of the oxen slipped, tripping his yoke mate, and the men had to release the ropes. The wagon splintered with an ear-shattering crash when it hit the ground below.
    Silence spread over the company until Miles Oxford swore. Then she heard his wife, Betty, and their two children begin to cry.
    Jack’s voice rose above their cries. “We’ll consolidate their supplies with ours.”
    Samantha surveyed the damage below them. Bags of food were split open, their contents scattered. Clothes and blankets were spread out over the ground.
    The oxen bellowed with pain, and Samantha’s stomach wrenched as Jack and Miles Oxford shot them.
    The Waldrons’ wagon was last, but Samantha looked away from the slope, toward the trees. She couldn’t bear to watch Abe and George go over.
    She felt Micah’s forehead, and it felt like it was burning with fever. If only she had some cool water to wash him in. As she waited, she prayed that God would give her another opportunity to be a mother to Micah. If so, she promised Him, she would never let him wander off again.
    Papa shouted to her, and she looked back toward the men. The oxen and their wagon had made it safely down.
    Papa picked up Micah, and then Jack led the women, children, and remaining animals carefully down the steep slope.
    As Papa placed Micah in the wagon, she saw the frightened look in his eyes. “We have to start moving.”
    She nodded. The other wagons had already gone ahead through a narrow passage in the trees, and they didn’t want to be left behind. She tucked Grandmother’s quilt around Micah and then kissed his forehead as she pulled a blanket over him. “We’re going to make it.”
    As the sun began to set, she asked God to provide water. Maybe Mama could ask God to send one of His angels to guide them to a stream.
    The company didn’t find water, but an hour later, water found them. The skies opened up and rain poured down on them.
    “Micah,” she said as she prodded her sleeping brother, “it’s raining.”
    He didn’t wake, but she backed away from the wagon and opened her mouth wide, letting the skies quench her thirst. Then she opened the barrel, hoping God would fill it for them.

    The light rain revived their tired party. For the first time in weeks, Samantha heard laughter around her. Even Mrs. Kneedler was outside dancing in the rain. Mama would have liked that—a time to dance. If she were with them, Samantha could see her dancing too.
    Samantha soaked a rag in the rain and dabbed Micah’s face over and over with the coolness.
    Before it got dark, Samantha helped Papa carry Micah into the tent, and then she cut up pieces of jerky for Papa and for Boaz. Micah’s eyes opened slightly. He seemed to listen to the rain.
    “Mama?” Micah asked as the sun began to set.
    Papa cleared his