Chapter 18
"I need you to be straight with me." Phineas stopped walking once they were far enough from the nearest wagon that no one could overhear. He turned and faced Jem directly, his arms folded across his chest. "When you moved on, Pruitt just now, did any part of that feel familiar to you?"
Jem shook his head. "No."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing." He looked down at his hands before lifting his gaze again.
"Phineas, I don't know what that was. I don't know where it came from.
My body just..." He stopped and frowned.
"It just moved." Phineas studied him for several long seconds.
Whatever answer he was looking for, he seemed to find it.
Even if Jem did have Phineas' trust, it didn't matter.
He was losing trust in himself. He hadn't felt so confident or sure of himself as he had while fighting those men.
For a moment, it felt as if he was doing something he was truly good at.
What reason did he have from his past life to be a good fighter?
He let out a slow breath and dropped his arms.
"You believe me?" He searched Phineas' face for an answer. Five weeks ago, he'd become friends with Phineas, and in that moment, he wanted to know that his friend at least believed that he hadn't intended anything malicious.
"I believe you think that's the truth." It wasn't quite the same thing. Phineas clapped him once on the shoulder and started back toward the crowd that was still gathered.
Jem dreaded facing them. So far, everyone had been welcoming, but he knew many would see him breaking up the fight and evidence that he was a fighter, that he knew what he was doing around weapons and fists. They would not come to any good conclusions.
"Come on. I need to deal with this before it gets out of hand,” Phineas muttered.
It already had. Jem could hear it before they reached the group. The low murmur of dozens of voices carried across the camp. People were still talking. Still picking apart what they had seen. His stomach tightened. When he and Phineas stepped into view, conversations immediately faltered.
The crowd had thinned, but not by much. Most of the company remained gathered near the center of the camp. The Hartley brothers leaned against their wagon with their arms crossed.
Mrs. Finch stood beside her cookpot, no longer pretending to stir it. Several others watched openly as Jem approached, men he'd worked beside, women whose wagons he'd helped repair, families he'd traveled with for weeks. Every eye seemed fixed on him.
Leland stepped forward before Phineas could speak.
"I'll say what everyone else is thinking.
" He planted himself in the middle of the gathering and swept his gaze across the crowd.
"That is not a man who doesn't know how to fight.
" He pointed toward Jem. "That is a man who's been trained to hurt people, and I, for one, am not willing to march the rest of the way to Oregon with someone like that beside us.
" Several people nodded. Others exchanged uneasy looks.
"Now hold on," a voice called. One of the men that Jem had helped the week before with his team pushed forward from the back of the crowd, Declan.
"He stepped in to stop those two from hurting each other,” Declan announced.
"He could've stepped between them," Leland shot back. "Instead, he put Pruitt on the ground before anyone could blink. That's not something a farmer learns. For all we know, Jem here could be a criminal, working from the inside to learn about each and every one of you before he robs us blind."
"You'd rather they beat each other bloody?" Declan crossed his arms over his chest, angry, staring at Leland as if he’d like to get into a bit of a fight himself. Jem certainly hoped he didn’t.
"I'd rather know who I'm traveling with.
" Leland turned toward Phineas. "He has no memory, no family we can verify, no history we can account for.
Now we find out he can fight like that? We don't know who he is.
" A heavy silence settled over the gathering.
Phineas looked slowly across the faces around him.
“What would you have me do?” Phineas looked uneasy, but Jem didn’t blame him. He knew if it were up to Phineas and Theda, they wouldn’t be asking him to prove himself at all.
"We have a vote, see if Jem should continue on with us to Oregon. Now that he's on his feet and quite healthy, don't you think it's fair that we all get a say in who is traveling with us?
"All right," Phineas said at last. "We'll vote."
Jem's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Phineas was doing his best to help him, and that was giving the people what they wanted for now. There was no reason for any of them to dislike him. Phineas raised his voice.
Heads of families only. Those in favor of asking Jem to leave the company." Hands began to rise. Jem hated that he counted them. Seven. Eight. The Hartleys. Osgood. Several others. Each hand felt like another stone added to the weight already sitting in his chest.
Before Phineas could call the vote, Reverend Jessup raised a hand. Not to vote.
"Can I say something?" Jem had hardly heard the reverend speak much. He'd heard him a few times on Sunday, during the service he held. Reverend Jessup was wise, but Jem wasn't sure he'd be able to sway anyone.
One by one, the remaining conversations faded.
"I won't pretend I wasn't unsettled by what I saw.
" Jessup's voice was calm and measured. He looked directly at Jem, "I've been watching this man since he joined us.
Not because I suspected him of anything.
Because I make it my business to pay attention. "
He folded his hands in front of him. "What I've seen is a man who uses his strength to help the people around him.
Today, he used it to stop a fight. I've yet to see him use it to start one.
" A few people shifted. "Leland isn't wrong to be concerned.
Fear is a natural response to what we witnessed.
But decisions made in fear are rarely good ones. "
His gaze swept briefly across the gathered families.
"This man deserves the benefit of the doubt.
I believe we can afford to give it to him.
" That was all. Jessup stepped back. No one spoke for several moments.
Jem could almost feel the mood of the crowd changing.
Not dramatically. Just enough. Shoulders eased.
Expressions softened. The uncertainty remained, but some of the tension had gone out of it.
Then Theda stepped forward. "I'd like to say something.
" The crowd turned toward her. So did Jem.
She stood near the front with her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
For a moment, she glanced at the people gathered, then she lifted her chin.
"A few weeks ago, Nora Crenshaw went into the Platte River." The crowd grew quiet. "Jem went in after her without a second thought. His ribs weren't healed. He could barely breathe without pain, and he still went."
Mrs. Crenshaw lowered her eyes.
"He brought Nora back. And he brought Edmund back, too." Theda paused. "When the Osgood wagon nearly rolled going downhill, he was the one on the brake line." Osgood shifted uncomfortably.
"When the Wesley baby came early, he spent half the night hauling water.
I don't know who Jem was before this journey.
But I know who he's been since I've known him.
" Her voice softened. "Every time someone has needed help, he's been there.
" Theda finally looked at Leland. "Maybe none of us knows where he came from.
But we've all seen the kind of man he is.
" Silence settled over the camp. Thoughtful this time.
Leland pressed his lips into a thin line. "Theda…"
"I've said my piece." She stepped back. Phineas waited another moment before speaking. "Those against." Only a few hands rose. "Those in favor of keeping him with the company." This time, more hands went up. The Crenshaws first, then others followed. The result wasn't close.
Jem let out a small breath of relief and was met by Theda’s bright smile at the outcome. The gathering slowly broke apart. Families drifted back toward their wagons. Conversations resumed in low voices.
Leland held Jem's gaze for a moment before turning away. He didn't look pleased, but he let the matter drop. Jem let out a slow breath. As people dispersed, his eyes followed them automatically.
Declan gave him a brief nod as he passed . Verity Crenshaw rested a hand on her husband's arm and murmured something under her breath. Little Edmund sat on the wagon tongue nearby, watching everything with wide, curious eyes.
Then Jem spotted Ansel Crenshaw. The man was already turning away. He hadn't spoken during the discussion. Hadn't argued. Hadn't defended him. He had simply raised his hand.
Against.
Jem watched him walk back toward his wagon.
A moment later, Edmund slid down from his perch and hurried after his father.
Jem looked away. He couldn't blame the man.
Others in the wagon train had every right to worry about the people traveling beside his family.
Even so, the knowledge sat heavier than he cared to admit.
"Don't read too much into it," Phineas said as he stepped up beside him and slapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm not reading anything into it." Jem shrugged. Phineas glanced sideways at him, one eyebrow lifting. He was running through every interaction he could remember with people and trying to figure out why they'd distrust him.