Janette Oke - Loves Long Journey

Love's Long Journey (Love Comes Softly #3)

Janette Oke

This book is dedicated to you, the readers of Love Comes Softly and Love's Enduring Promise, with thanks for your kind words of encouragement.

JANETTE OKE was born in Champion, Alberta, during the depression years, to a Canadian prairie farmer and his wife. She is a graduate of Mountain View Bible College in Didsbury, Alberta, where she met her husband, Edward. They were married in May of 1957, and went on to pastor churches in Indiana as well as Calgary and Edmonton, Canada.

The Okes have three sons and one daughter and are enjoying the addition to the family of grandchildren. Edward and Janette have both been active in their local church, serving in various capacities as Sunday-school teachers and board members. They make their home in Didsbury, Alberta.

Table of Contents

Chapter

1 The Journey Begins 11

2 Day's End 19

3 Another Day 24

4 Traveling Neighbors 29

5 Rebecca Clay 37

6 On the Trail 44

7 Tedious Journey 47

8 Rain 56

9 Delays 60

10 The Big River 64

11 On the Way Again 69

12 Town 72

13 Breaking Camp 78

14 Rebecca 81

15 A Tough Decision 86

16 Tettsford Junction 90

17 The Taylorsons 94

18 News 103

19 Sunday 109

20 Parting 112

21 Putting in Time 115

22 The New Baby 123

23 Travelin' On 126

24 The Ranch 130

25 Missie's New Home 133

26 Winter 137

27 Christmas 142

28 Setbacks 148

29 Missie's Garden 154

30 Summer 160

31 Maria 163

32 Willie's Return 167

33 Afternoon Tea 174

34 Looking to Another Winter 181

35 Special Sundays 188

36 Dreams 192

37 Nathan 195

38 Love Finds a Home 201

Prologue

Imagine if you can the grief of family separation back in the days of the pioneers.

For weeks and months the entire family would have been in a fever-pitch of excitement and activity. Plans were made, clothing and bedding were sewn, crates and crocks were packed and supplies were purchased or prepared, sufficient for many months, or even years. Consider packing all that food, from coffee to flour, from lard to honey, from molasses to salt--pickled, salted, dried, canned. There were lamps and the fuel needed for them, grease for the wagons, repair parts for the harnesses, besides guns and gunpowder, tools, nails, rope, crocks, kettles, pots and pans, dishes, medicines, seeds, clothing, and material to make more when those wore out. Any furniture or equipment that the family could afford and find room for was packed in the wagons; a stove, sewing machine, bed, chairs, table--they all had to be taken along.

The packing was done carefully. Breakables were packed in sawdust and crated in handmade boxes. Many items needed to be protected against possible water damage, for there were rivers to be forded and rains to be endured. The crates would be unpacked at journey's end and disassembled; every board would be carefully hoarded for some future building project--a window frame, a stool, a small crib. The sawdust would be used sparingly to feed a fire, sprinkled lightly over the smoking buffalo chips.

The crocks and jars containing foods they had carried west would be re-used after they had yielded up their store.

Yes, it was a monumental task. The preparation for such a move must have taxed bodies and emotions to the limit.

But when the sorting and packing was finished, the wagons were loaded and the teams were hitched and ready to move out--what then?

Mothers and fathers bade their offspring farewell with the knowledge that they might be seeing them for the last time. There was almost no means of communication, should the need arise; from then on they would know next to nothing of their whereabouts or their well-being. Many families who stayed behind hoped that they would never hear--for only bad news was of sufficient import to be carried across the empty miles.

Wife followed husband, convinced that her rightful place was by his side regardless of the strong tug that pulled her to the home that she had known and loved. Danger, loneliness, and possible disaster awaited them in the new world that they were entering, but she went regardless.

I have often thought about those pioneer women. What it must have cost many of them to follow their men! To venture forth, leaving behind the things that represented security and safety; to birth their babies unattended; to nurse sick children with no medicines or doctors; to be mother, teacher, minister, physician, tailor and supermarket to a growing family; to support, without complaint, their men through floods, blizzards, sandstorms and droughts; to walk tall when there was little to wear, little to work with and even less to eat.

God bless them all--the women who courageously went forth with their men. And those who stood with tear-filled eyes and aching hearts and let them go. God bless their memory. And grant to us a measure of the strength, courage, love and determination that prompted them to do what they did.

Janette Oke

Chapter 1

The Journey Begins

Missie experimentally pushed back her bonnet and let the rays of the afternoon sun fall directly on her already too-warm head. She wasn't sure which was preferable--the loss of protection from the sun that the bonnet had provided or the shade from the wide brim that also kept the slight breeze from her face. It was hot! She comforted herself by reasoning that the worst of the day's heat was already past; surely it would begin to cool before long as the sun's rays waned.

Her first day on the trail had seemed extremely long. To Missie the excitement of the morning seemed already weeks past. But no, time insisted that it truly had been only at the dawning of this very day.

As she recalled the early events of the morning, Missie again felt a tingle go through her. She and Willie were really heading west! After all of the planning and dreaming, they were actually on the way. It still seemed a dream, yet Missie's weary, aching body verified that it was fact.

She shifted on the hard, wooden boards of the bumping wagon

to gain what she hoped would be a more comfortable position. Willie turned to her, his hands on the reins still aware of every movement of the plodding team.

"Ya tirin'?" he asked, his eyes on her flushed face.

Missie smiled and pushed back some strands of damp hair. "A bit. 'Bout time for me to stretch my legs again, I reckon."

Willie nodded and turned back to the horses he was driving.

"I miss ya when yer gone, but I sure won't deny ya none any relief that ya might be getting from a walk now an' then. Ya wantin' down now?"

"In a few minutes." Missie fell silent.

Willie stole an anxious sideways glance at her. She looked content enough.

"Sure's one bustlin', dusty way to travel, this wagon trainin',"

Missie commented. "Harness creakin', horses stompin', people shoutin'! Hadn't realized thet it would be so noisy-like." "I 'spect that it'll quieten some as we all get used to it." "Yeah, I reckon so."

Missie reached out to tuck a small hand under Willie's arm. She could feel his muscles tighten and ripple as they gave firm guidance to the team. His coarse cotton shirt was damp in many places and Missie noticed that he had undone a couple of buttons at the neck.

"Guess we sorta just brought our noise and bustle along with us," she said.

"Meanin'?"

"Well, you know what it's been like at home for all these weeks that we've been a plannin', packin', cratin', loadin'-- seemed it would never end. An' the noise was really somethin'-- everybody talkin' at once, hammers poundin', an' barrels an' pans bangin'. It was a madhouse, that's what it was."

Willie laughed. "Was kinda, wasn't it?"