Prologue No other region of the United States has so shaped the image of our national identity as the Old West. Together, as husband and wife, we have traversed the vast regions of Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Texas, New Mexico, Nebraska, Kansas, the Dakotas, Utah, Idaho, Nevada, Arizona, California, Oregon, and Washington.
We have read and reread many history books on the nineteenth-century old West, and between us have read literally hundreds of novels about it. From Daniel Boone to Davey
Crockett; from Kit Carson to Wyatt Earp; from Wild Bill Hickok to Buffalo Bill Cody, our national folklore is replete with rugged men finding their dreams fulfilled in the wide open spaces or craggy mountains of an untamed land.
Though this image is well founded, both of us find it one dimensional and incomplete. Little is said by historians or novelists about the role played by gallant, resourceful women in settling the West.
In this new series, Hannah of Fort Bridger, we will give men their due, but our intent is to show our readers the truth of women’s contributions in forming this nation’s vast land west of the wide Missouri.
As we present this second book in the series, let us follow valiant Hannah Cooper, whose faith in the Lord has been severely tested by the sudden death of her husband, Solomon,
in central Wyoming.
The California-bound wagon train in which Hannah and her four children are traveling as far as Fort Bridger, Wyoming, is still some two hundred miles from the fort. It has been nearly four months since they left their home in Independence, Missouri, to begin this venture westward. On the day they pulled out of Independence, their dreams were yet to be fulfilled—as Solomon had put it—
“out there under the distant sky.” As the wagon train pulls away from Solomon Cooper’s grave, will Hannah’s faith sustain her? Only the Lord knows what dangers and trials lie ahead on the trail. And when they arrive at Fort Bridger, how will she cope with the seemingly insurmountable obstacles in her path?
Will she be able to handle the task of running Cooper’s General Store without her husband? Especially since she’s carrying their fifth child in her womb?
Our heart’s desire in presenting this book and the ones that follow in the series is to encourage our Christian readers to more fully trust the Lord as they walk life’s pathway. And for those readers who have never opened their hearts to the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation and forgiveness of their sins, our prayer is that they might do so.
Chapter OneAt high noon, the California-bound wagon train was still camped on Wyoming’s Sweetwater River, just west of where the water roared through a narrow boulder strewn
section known as Devil’s Gate.
Stuart Armstrong reached out to help Hannah Cooper climb onto the wagon seat, but she turned to look over her shoulder one last time at the freshly mounded grave. As usual, the wagon train had stopped at dusk the previous night to make camp. After such an oppressively hot day, the Coopers had decided the whole family would sleep outside
beneath the wagon. The children fell asleep quickly, but Solomon and Hannah lay awake in each other’s arms for quite some time, talking softly.
In the dark hours of the night, Solomon awakened to a sensation of movement against his bare arm and heard a slight rattling sound. It took only seconds to realize that a rattlesnake had slithered next to him, yet he couldn’t see where the head was.
Even the slightest movement would cause the snake to strike. If any of his family stirred in their sleep…Solomon swung his arm toward the snake in the darkness and felt the sting of the rattler’s bite. The snake bit him twice more before he got to his feet and managed to kill it.
Hannah had a few precious minutes with Sol before he was gone, but it was enough time for him to urge her to fulfill their dream and go on to Fort Bridger.
“Ezra’s about ready to go, ma’am.” Stuart took her hand and helped her onto the wagon seat, then climbed up and grasped the reins.
Hannah looked at this kind man, her eyes red and swollen from a night of weeping. “Thank you for offering to drive, Stuart. I should be feeling up to it in a couple of days.”
“It’s my privilege, ma’am.”
He and his wife, Tracie, had traveled to Independence, Missouri, from Toledo, Ohio, to join Ezra Comstock’s wagon train. On the trail, Solomon Cooper witnessed to Stuart and led him to Christ. Tracie, who was now driving the Armstrong wagon by herself, had come to the Lord through conversations with Hannah.
As the Cooper wagon took its position in line, fourteen year-old Christopher Cooper mounted his bay gelding, Buster, and drew up beside the wagon. His dad’s horse, Nipper, trailed behind, tied to the tailgate.
Little five-year-old Patty Ruth Cooper sat between her mother and Stuart, holding tightly to her stuffed bear, Tony, named for Tony Cuzak, who drove one of the Cooper’s four
supply wagons.
In the back of the wagon were Hannah’s other two children, twelve-year-old Mary Beth, and eight-year-old B. J. (short for Brett Jonathan), and the family’s black and white rat terrier, Biggie.
As he waited for all the wagons to line up, wagon master Ezra Comstock swung into his saddle at the front of the line and talked to his nephew, Micah, who drove the lead wagon. Hannah thought back to Ezra’s words that morning. Just after the burial, he came to her and said, “I’d really like to see you go on to Fort Bridger, but not too far along the trail we’ll come upon a supply train headin’ back east. If you wish to join it, I’ll make arrangements for you.” Then he left her alone beside the grave.
She knelt and prayed, asking God to show her what to do. She was aware that her children were standing some distance away, watching her. They wanted to go on, but knew the decision belonged to her alone.
The words of Isaiah 26:3 came to mind, and soon her heart flooded with peace as she kept her mind stayed on Jesus. Yes, they would go on to Fort Bridger and make a new life there.
Now, as she waited for the wagon master’s familiar call to head out, she felt that same God-given peace even in the midst of overwhelming grief. Ezra looked back along the line of wagons to make sure they were all in position, then raised up in his stirrups and gestured west, shouting, “Wagons, ho-o-o!”
The Cooper family wagon was ninth in line, with their four supply wagons directly behind and more wagons trailing them. As the wheels began to turn, Hannah twisted on the seat and leaned out. Tears came as she took one last look at her beloved Solomon’s grave. Her grief was so new and deep that she felt as though the breath had been taken from her. Through quivering lips, she whispered, “O dear Lord, I need the grace
and strength right now that only You can give.”
Solomon’s grave seemed so lonely there, under the trees. She knew he was in heaven, but still, with each step of the oxen and each turn of the wagon wheels, Hannah felt herself
moving farther and farther from the one who had been the essence of life to her for so many years. Her aching heart bid him good-bye with the knowledge that one day they would share a glorious reunion in God’s bright heaven.
When the grave passed from view, she sat up straight on the wagon seat and looked toward the western horizon. Twenty days to Fort Bridger, she thought, and many tomorrows. Abruptly, her own words, spoken earlier on the trail, came back
to her:
The Lord always knows what’s ahead of us and can prepare us for the trials and heartaches that come our way, even before they happen. He’s already in eternity, which means He’s already in the future. So, He’s already in our tomorrows. “Thank You, Lord,” she said under her breath. “Thank You for that wonderful truth.”
The wagon rocked and swayed as Hannah lifted her gaze to the magnificent canopy of sky. As she studied the blue horizon, Solomon’s words before they left Independence filled her with hope. “Out there, Hannah, under the distant sky, is our new home and our new life.”
She felt a small hand press firmly on her shoulder and turned to see Mary Beth’s compassionate eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She smiled through her own tears and reached up to squeeze her young daughter’s hand. Mary Beth drew in a shuddering breath and half-whispered, “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too, sweetie.”
B. J., who was holding on to Biggie, turned to look back at his father’s grave and started to sob. Mary Beth wiped at her own tears and swung around to put an arm around her little brother.
Hannah glanced at Chris riding beside her on Buster, wondering how he was holding up. His eyes looked straight ahead, but his lower lip gave him away. She’d seen him hip
around in the saddle as the wagons began to roll and take a last look at his father’s grave. But Chris had wept the least of any of her children. Hannah knew he was trying to show his mother that she could depend on him, for he was now the “man of the family.” Her shattered heart glowed with warmth toward her courageous teenage son.
There were no shadows as the sun’s burning rays scalded the rugged land and the temperature climbed higher and higher. Hannah dabbed at her forehead and turned her gaze to the majestic mountain peaks. She hoped it would be cooler when they reached the ...
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
