Threads of Change (8 page)

She felt so tired. She’d endured some busy, laborious days preparing for the trip west. Liz looked at the six wagons standing packed with goods. The structures looked like they might give birth at any time; they stood waiting as a metaphor for the new life now upon Liz and her family.

Her family had already retired, all of them as tired as Liz, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d spent many nights out on the porch lately, this one her last. In the morning, she would leave the Mailly home. She would leave Riverton.

Liz prayerfully pondered God’s promises. She asked for wisdom, guidance, health, and safety. She asked for strength and endurance. She thanked Him for Thomas, willing to travel such a long way with them, and for Chet, who knew Texas as his home, for agreeing to act as their scout.

Liz sat rocking, comforted in knowing that the Texas Rangers would help guide them in the more dangerous areas. Grandpa Lucas had thought of everything.

“Please God,” she requested one more time. “Protection, special protection.”

“A penny for your thoughts?” her grandfather asked from the doorway with his pipe in hand.

Liz looked his way. “I just finished mending your favorite quilt.”

“Thank you, Liz. You know how much I love those Southern Skies.”

He stepped forward, leaning on a post of the porch as he lit his pipe.

She looked down at the flying geese on the quilt.

“These birds are amazing, the way God created their nature …” She looked up to her grandfather and smiled. “How do you know they are squawking encouragement to each other? Maybe they’re just cranky.”

Smoke went up from his pipe, and he crossed one leg over the ankle of the other. His eyes twinkled through the darkness, and he chuckled. “I choose to believe in the good and positive, Liz. Besides, a little bird told me.” His eyebrows teased with a wiggle.

She stood up, placed the quilt in the rocker and went to her grandfather. With her arms around him, she said, “I miss you already.” Her voice cracked, and she looked out over his shoulder and blinked back a burn from her eyes. “I’m a little melancholy about leaving my home, but I am ready to go. In the morning, I will be ready. Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked him.

“I was waiting on my quilt,” he chuckled. “Can’t sleep without it, you know.”

She picked it up and placed it in his arms.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Liz. I will see you soon, real soon. When the birds fly south.”

Liz looked back at her Grandpa on the night porch and chiseled the picture into her heart.

She never wanted to lose such memories.

Liz must have fallen asleep the very moment her head hit the pillow. She didn’t even remember getting into bed or saying her nightly prayer.

Liz rolled over in the darkness to face the window, her hair in her eyes. She brushed it aside. “Is it almost morning yet?” she whispered to herself.

She arose and went to the window, peeking out. “No sun yet.”

While she’d slept, the moon had slid across the sky, now showing from a position opposite of where she had last seen it. The stars shone over the house and the six wagons waited in the yard; waiting for their dusty day ahead, when they would be useful and satisfied.

Excitement squeezed her insides. She slipped back into her warm bed and tried to sleep, knowing she might regret not having a full night’s rest when weariness caught up to her out on the trail.

A pink ray of sunlight sliced through Liz’s morning curtains and splashed against her face and pillow. Within just a few short moments, she was in the kitchen preparing a small breakfast and packing a lunch they all might eat along the journey. She wrapped a piece of bread and cheese in a small cloth for everyone and then placed each of them into a larger cloth sack that held two green apples and a tin cup. She made a sack for each person and planned to place the sacks under the wagon benches for later.

Cheese might prove a real luxury for lunch along the trail on their first day. Afterward, high temperatures would surely spoil such treats. From then on, they would have to eat dried meats, breads, and beans. Hopefully, the men could kill something for dinner each night. The jars of preserved fruit and other items from the cellar, packed neatly away in the sawdust, would serve them for special occasions or hard times on the trail. The four chickens she planned to bring along would hopefully produce eggs for their nourishment.

Grandpa Lucas had already risen, and Liz saw him out there inspecting the wagons once again, reassuring himself of their trailworthiness. In one wagon, he placed several extra wooden wheels and other materials that might be useful if the originals were damaged during the journey. Liz knew how surprisingly easy a wheel could break; sometimes the spokes caught and stripped the insides away. Or, as happened more often than any other scenario, the bolts could wiggle off and lose hold of the wheel, sending the wagon down in a dusty crash. Grandpa Lucas had seen this many times before, and Liz knew he wanted to ensure they would have enough materials in the instance that it happened along the trail.

The group gathered in the kitchen and quickly ate breakfast. Afterward, they collected all the essentials that could not be packed the night before and placed them in the appropriate wagons. Most of the millworkers waited in the yard next to the wagons, noticeably intrigued that Lucas Mailly had actually allowed his four granddaughters to embark on such a voyage west. Alone! It was a rare occurrence for any woman or group of women to have such an opportunity. Liz supposed that, in essence, it positioned a stepping-stone in their small community, and she hoped that stepping-stone might be utilized by other women in the months and years to come; used again and again.

Luke placed his mother’s chickens into her wagon, and Liz surveyed their placement, adjusting the wooden cages as she saw fit. Luke smiled at his mom and gave her a hug.

“They could drop off,” she defended. “It’s not going to be trails like we are accustomed to. These trails are much shakier and not used so often.”

“Are you set?” he asked her.

Liz’s eyes widened and she smiled. “Yes, I suppose I am all set.”

“Good! I can’t wait to get out of here! I wonder how far we’ll make it today.”

Liz smiled at Luke’s excitement. “Where’s Bear?”

“Grandpa has him,” he said, motioning toward his grandfather and Thomas. “Bear! Come boy!” Luke whistled.

The fluffy-haired black ball ran toward them, stopping just in time to keep from colliding with Liz. Luke patted the dog’s sides and rubbed his head with two hands.

“Are you all set, boy?” The dog grew more and more excited with Luke’s encouraging words, and he began to bark. “Good boy,” Luke assured him.

The wagons had been lined up according to Grandpa Lucas’s instructions and stood patiently with drivers now onboard. Liz’s grandfather decided that the best manner to travel would be in pairs, two wagons traveling side-by-side and two wagons traveling behind and so forth. This allowed each person a partner who could assist them if necessary. The wagons had been arranged accordingly, and Grandpa Lucas appeared satisfied to have the matter settled in his favor. Thomas took the lead out front, the leader for the wagon train. He also agreed that this method of travel was a good idea in case one of the ladies needed help with the reins. Behind his wagon, Liz and Megan teamed up, then Abby and Emma, Luke and Blue, and John as a single at the back. Chet planned to ride on horseback. Thomas’s saddle horse had been tied to the side of his lead wagon, and Grandpa Lucas insisted that they take a few extra horses along, leaving them fresh in case they were needed to scout ahead or search for water, so they’d tied them to the back of John’s wagon.

“It looks like we’re rough and ready!” Luke exclaimed, and he wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders. The current of excitement emanating from him felt palpable. “We’re off to start a whole new life.”

Liz took one last look over her shoulder before she nodded.

A whole new life.

She wondered for a moment whether she’d truly let go of the old one.

Lucas had given all of his granddaughters a final hug, and Thomas noticed Liz’s pretty eyes well up with emotion as she turned away. Lucas saluted the men with a handshake and a few words of advice, and he asked everyone to join him as he said a prayer for them before they left. He asked God to keep His hand over the group and guide them in safety and health. He asked special wisdom and grace for Thomas as the trail leader, and for the overall protection of each person, calling them by name.

“Amen,” everyone said together as he finished his prayer.

Lucas raised his hand to Liz. “Will those chickens be a bother?”

“They won’t,” Liz quipped. “They know how much I love chicken soup.”

“Thomas!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take my women to Texas!”

“I will, sir!” he replied with a firm nod.

The millworkers that stood watching erupted into applause, clapping and hollering at the wagons, waving their hands and shouting their goodbyes.

Thomas slapped the reins and shouted at his horses to start them off. The wagons pulled out of the yard while all of the millworkers and Lucas stood by, watching and waving. Thomas looked back as he rounded the curve and caught a glimpse of Liz as she watched the house and her beloved porch grow smaller and smaller. He imagined how she felt, like she might never see it again. When he couldn’t see Lucas anymore, Thomas looked out at the river until it disappeared as well. His heart lurched a bit for Liz as she said goodbye to everything she knew, including Caleb, putting it all behind her and boldly ran forward into The Great Unknown.

When they reached the edge of the Mailly property. Liz looked over to Megan, who could hardly stay seated over the wagon bench as her petite gloved hands drove the team of horses.

Liz smiled at her sister. She had always admired Megan’s love for life. It was in the small things, the day-to-day matters, that she found the oddest satisfaction for living. The special way she held the stem of a flower bulb before placing it carefully into its allotted square hole, or the way she threaded a needle and secured a perfect knot, even the way she cleaned the house.

“We’re leaving! I can’t believe this,” Megan exclaimed to Liz, trying to talk over the horses. “We’re actually leaving Riverton! Did you ever dream?”

Liz bit her lip and tried to smile back at her sister. She hadn’t, actually. She’d never once dreamed of leaving Riverton or the timber mill. That lone tear found its way to her chin again, and she quickly looked back as she went around the final bend in the road. She caught sight of her grandfather on the porch with his hand held high, still waving.

No, she’d never dreamed of leaving it all behind one day.