Land of My Heart (6 page)

She browsed the aisles of one store, still contemplating the reality of her pregnancy. She certainly couldn’t tell anyone. Daniel Keefer, the wagon master Dianne had signed them on with, would no doubt turn their application away should he learn of her condition. From what Dianne had showed her in a letter from Keefer, he was apprehensive enough about taking on a widowed mother, despite the fact she had three boys who could do the heavy work.

Of course, when Dianne had written the letter on her mother’s behalf, she had believed Trenton would change his mind about accompanying them west. Susannah hoped the issue of Trent’s absence wouldn’t come up until long after they began their journey. Just as she hoped the issue of her pregnancy wouldn’t come up until it was too late to turn her back.

Given that the baby wasn’t due until December, Susannah felt there was no need to inform Mr. Keefer. They were assured they would reach the Idaho Territory before August ended. That would give her plenty of time. By the time she started showing, they would be in the middle of the prairie wilderness. Surely then Mr. Keefer would just have to allow for it. Besides, women of proper upbringing simply didn’t discuss such matters with gentlemen. Mr. Keefer would just have to understand.

She toyed with some wool yarn dyed a pale yellow. The color pleased her senses, and she picked up several skeins and placed them in her basket. If any of the children asked, she’d just say that she intended to make a shawl.

That thought brought her to the idea of keeping the pregnancy from the children. She couldn’t very well tell them without risking their accidental announcement to other people. Betsy could never keep anything secret; in fact, she had told everyone she’d encountered that her family was headed to Virginia. This in turn prompted Susannah to explain they were heading for Virginia City, in the Idaho Territory, and not the warridden state of the Southern Confederacy.

Betsy’s excitement over their adventure west had no doubt filled her head with wild imaginings. She told people about Indians and about the dog they would have when the trip concluded. Most of the matrons laughed with amusement at the child, while men seemed to catch her animation and questioned Susannah about the gold possibilities and whether her brother had struck it rich.

“Can I help you with anything here?” a stern-faced older woman questioned.

The voice brought Susannah back into the present and she nodded. “I’d like to buy a bolt of white flannel. I’ll also take a bolt of the white cotton and two bolts of the brown wool.”

“You must be going to sew up a storm,” the woman commented.

“We’re heading west. I have a large inventory of goods and want to add this to it.” Susannah caught sight of several sunbonnets and motioned. “I think I’d better have a look at some of those. I was sold out and couldn’t get any more before coming to St. Louis.”

The woman quickly complied. “These are the best,” she told Susannah. “With the longer untrimmed brims you’ll keep more sun off your face and not have to worry about the edging going bad or getting torn. And with the bavolet, your neck won’t get burned. A lot of women forget about protecting their necks.”

Susannah looked the pieces over and nodded. “I’ll take these four. By the way, do you have anything that would fit younger girls? I have two daughters, six and ten, who would never be able to keep these on.”

“I do have some. Wait right here.” The woman disappeared into the back, and Susannah took the opportunity to continue her perusal. Nothing else struck her fancy, however. There were far too many trinkets designed for the happily settled homeowner. They would be nothing but burdensome for the long trip to Virginia City. Besides, as Bram had pointed out long ago, the territory was ninety-nine percent men. Of course, that had probably changed by now with the gold rush and all, but men would still outnumber the women, and men had no use for fancy doodads.

No, Dianne had been right. With men, food would matter more. Food and tools, even livestock, which was why Susannah was determined to focus her attention on those things more than others. They had one whole wagon loaded with mostly food—canned, bagged, and crated. Another wagon had tools—mining tools, farming tools—as well as heavy-duty clothing and boots. Wagon repair items, as well as spare harnesses and animal feed, topped off the freight. That left the third wagon for most of their personal things. How very small that wagon seemed once they’d loaded it with their belongings.

It’s a different life from what we’ve known,
she mused. Returning to the counter to wait for the storekeeper, Susannah couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right choice.
We truly know nothing about what we’re doing. We’re unprepared for even the everyday needs of travel—cooking, cleaning, doctoring. We’re worse off still when it comes to animals and their care
.

“Here we are,” the woman announced. She held up two children’s bonnets—one a red calico and one a brown solid. “This one,” she said, thrusting the brown one forward, “should fit the younger girl just fine.”

Susannah looked the piece over, noting the quilted brim. “Fine work. I’ll take them both.”

She made arrangements for the boys to pick up the cloth and made her way back to the hotel with the bonnets. She and Daniel Keefer were to meet in the lobby in just five minutes; already the day was getting away from her.

Coming through the hotel doorway, Susannah immediately spotted two men sitting to one side. Both appeared neat and orderly. Their trousers showed no signs of dirt and their faces were clean-shaven, with exception to the older man’s mustache. They both rose as she neared. “Are one of you Mr. Keefer?” she questioned.

With a smile that lifted the corners of his mustache, the older man nodded. “And you’d be Mrs. Chadwick, I presume.”

“Yes. I hope I’m not late for our meeting.”

“Not at all. By the way,” he said, motioning to the younger man, “this tall drink of water is Cole Selby. He’s going to be my right-hand man on the train. Cole will inspect your wagons after we speak and make sure you have the proper provisions for the trip.”

Susannah nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Ma’am.” Cole barely looked her in the eye.

Susannah gave it no further consideration. Her own boys could be quite shy around strangers. “I read
The Prairie Traveler,
” Susannah spoke. “I’ve studied it since deciding to move west.”

“There’s good information in that book, but there are also a lot of things you can’t really know except for experiencing them yourself,” Daniel replied. “I need you to keep this list of rules and study them up.” He handed her a piece of paper. “It’s important that your children know the rules as well. They’ll help to make things run smoothly and to keep folks alive.”

Susannah glanced down at the list for a moment, then returned her gaze to Daniel Keefer. He seemed like a dependable sort. He had an honest face, weathered and tanned from his life out under the sun. “I’ll make sure the children understand.”

“Most every rule on that list will be to your benefit. Curfews are established to make certain everyone is well rested. Can’t be having a bunch of rowdies staying up all night keepin’ other folks awake. Rules for how to treat the animals and where to arrange for them at night are for the sake of safety and order. Once we’re on the trail, you’ll see for yourself just how smooth things can run.” He shifted and grinned. “Of course, these rules help when things aren’t running as smooth too. Folks being folks—it’s always hard to have some three or four hundred people with one goal in mind and not have someone wanting to do things their own way.”

“I see you have a rule about alcohol consumption,” Susannah said, noting her list again. “I’m glad to see that. I suppose, however, liquor for medicinal purposes is allowed?”

“Absolutely. I just can’t be having my men drunk when there’s a very real possibility of Indian attack.”

“Is it truly that dangerous?” Susannah hugged herself to refrain from shuddering.

“It is indeed. There are a dozen or more tribes between here and Virginia City, and at any given time they can all be on the warpath. Pawnees, Crow, Cheyenne, and Sioux have all been giving us grief from time to time. They resent the whites taking over their hunting lands and killing off the game. They don’t care how many people they have to kill—they just want us gone. Bringing a wagon train full of folks is just the same as insulting them—it wounds their pride.”

“And causes them to retaliate,” Susannah said, imagining the horror of watching her children die at the hands of such savages.

“It’s just something to consider, ma’am,” Keefer continued. “With the large number of wagons and families, I’m figuring we’ll be fine. And things bein’ what they are, you’ll probably have more complaints with your fellow travelers than with the Indians. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to have Cole check your wagons and gear. Can you advise him as to where you’ve liveried your animals and wagons?”

“Of course. We’re just down the road at the Smith Brothers Livery.”

Cole nodded. “I know where that’s at. I’ll get to it right away.” He nodded to Susannah. “Ma’am.”

Susannah waited until he’d gone before turning her attention back to the wagon master. “I’m sure he’ll find everything in order, but please send me a message if anything is amiss. I tried to adhere to the book. I didn’t want to make the ox teams work too hard. I mean to get to Virginia City in good condition, Mr. Keefer.” And she did. Never before had she been more determined to accomplish anything.

He nodded. “I can appreciate that, Mrs. Chadwick. I think you’ll do just fine. I don’t generally allow widowed woman on my trains, but since you have three strapping boys to help, I’m sure you’ll be all right.” He started for the door, then turned abruptly. “I almost forgot. We’ll leave for Independence day after tomorrow.”

Susannah said nothing about his mistaken idea that three of her sons would accompany them. Let him suppose that was how it would be. Hopefully he’d be too busy to learn the truth of it until they were far enough west that he couldn’t refuse them. She put her hand tenderly to her stomach.
Same for this matter. No one needs to know about the baby until it’s too late to do anything else about it
.

Dianne looked at her brothers in sheer disbelief. “You really expect me to milk the cows? I don’t know anything about it.”

“That’s why we’re taking you down to the livery. You need to learn and quick. Milking is women’s work,” Zane told her with an air of authority.

Morgan nodded and added, “It’s real simple, Dianne. Otis showed us how. It was kind of hard at first, because we had it all wrong in our minds. We figured you just pumped the teat up and down and the milk came out, but that’s not the case. You have to kind of squeeze and roll your hand down, all at the same time.”

Dianne frowned. “It doesn’t sound all that simple to me. I’ve never been up close to those beasts—you know that.” She stopped on the boardwalk, refusing to go any farther. “What if they decide to step on me?”

Morgan shrugged and Zane gazed heavenward as if completely exasperated. “Just come on,” Morgan encouraged. “If I can do it, you can.”

Dianne wasn’t convinced and as they made their way to the expansive livery stables of the Smith brothers, she felt even less confident that her brothers were right.

“Our stock is at the far end. We have the milk cows, the oxen, and the horses here. The chickens are kept elsewhere. The cows have to be milked twice a day. Once in early morning and once in the evening,” Zane instructed as they moved toward the end of the stable.

“Are those our wagons?” Dianne asked, pointing to an open area opposite the stalls.

“Sure are,” Morgan replied. “Ma paid extra to have them kept here. She thought they’d be safe from riffraff.”

Dianne paused for a moment and looked at the wagons with a sense of disbelief. “Doesn’t it seem strange to have our entire household packed up in those?”

“I think it’s a good thing to be rid of so much stuff,” Zane said. “I don’t mind at all that we’re starting over. I’ve always wanted to go west.”

“But won’t you miss having a table to sit down to for supper?” she questioned, looking first to Zane and then to Morgan. “Won’t you miss having an indoor bathroom and a pump right in your kitchen? We’ll have to haul water from rivers and creeks on the trip—it won’t be easy.”

Morgan laughed. “Doesn’t matter how easy it is. It’s going to be an adventure and a heap of fun. You girls might miss your fancy duds and conveniences, but I’d trade them all for a chance to explore where no white man has ever stepped.”

Dianne went to the stall where the horses were kept. The mare she’d taken as her own moved toward the gate. No doubt she hoped for a treat, as Dianne had spoiled her over the last few days as they had become acquainted with each other.

“Sweet Dolly,” Dianne said as she rubbed the buckskin’s black mane.

“Come on, you can spend time with your horse later. We’re supposed to teach you how to milk,” Zane protested.

Dianne stepped over to the pen where the cows were nervously bunched together. Morgan grabbed a rope and fashioned a loop. Without any qualms about his task, he stepped into the stall. The cows moved away from him, as if uncertain as to whether he meant to do them harm. Dianne and Zane watched as Morgan easily laid the rope over the nearest cow’s head and tightened the loop down.