Westward Hearts (5 page)

M
atthew didn’t come down until after the children had gone to bed. Even then he was sullen and quiet. “Pecan pie,” Elizabeth said as she set a generous slice topped with heavy cream on the table in front of him. “Your favorite.”

He just shrugged as he picked up the fork, holding it loosely in his hand.

“Want some coffee to go with that?” Clara offered.

“Sure he does,” Elizabeth answered for him.

“You’ve had a rough day, son.” Asa leaned back in his chair, taking a long pull from his pipe.

Matthew stuck his fork into the pie without responding.

Elizabeth took the chair closest to him and, feeling protective, began to chatter about the new colt and what a beauty he was going to be.

“He’s got running legs,” Asa said. “And he’s all yours, son, if you want him.”

Matthew looked at his father with an empty expression. “Thanks, Pa, but I don’t want him.”

Asa tossed an uneasy glance at Elizabeth, as if he expected her to fix this somehow.

“Well, you might change your mind on that once you see the colt,” she said lightly. “He’s truly a fine—”

“Can’t take a horse that young to the frontier.” Matthew took a bite of the pie, chewing noisily.

“Wh
—
what?”
Asa sat up in his chair, coughing and sputtering. “What are you saying?”

“I’m going west, Pa.” Matthew looked evenly at his father.

Clara set a cup of coffee on the table and then sat down across from her son. Deep frown lines creased her forehead as she rested her chin in one hand. “Surely you’re not planning to leave until springtime, are you?”

“I’d leave today if I could.” With eyes downward, he took a sip of coffee.

“Are you serious?” Asa looked dumbfounded.

Matthew set the cup down with a clink. “I am.”

“Because of that flibbertigibbet Violet?”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed.

“Matthew and I discussed this earlier,” Elizabeth said quickly. “As you know, James and I had intended to go to the Oregon Territory one day. We wanted to join his brother John and his family out there.”

“Yes, yes.” Asa waved his hand. “That was before…well, you know…
before.
”

“I know. But I have been thinking about it lately, Father. I have been wondering if it still might be the right thing for me to do… for the children and me.”

“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Asa set his pipe down with a thud. “A lone woman and her young children out on the Western frontier? With savages and wild animals and infidels around every corner? Elizabeth Anne, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’ve lost your good senses. You cannot possibly be serious.”

Elizabeth glanced toward the stairs, hoping that the children were fast asleep by now. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted them to be privy to. “I know it must sound strange to your ears, Father. But it was our dream…James’ and mine…and I think perhaps it is a dream that should not have died.”

Asa got up and began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace with hands in the air, expounding on all the dangers in the West. “I read the accounts in the newspapers,” he told her. “It’s no place for a lone woman. And I would wager that no self-respecting trail master would allow a widow woman and her children to join his party.”

“You are missing one important point,” Matthew said quietly. “I would be traveling with Elizabeth and the children. She wouldn’t be alone.”

“But…but…
this is absurd!”
Asa sat back down, blowing out a frustrated sigh. “Completely absurd.”

“Asa,” Clara said quietly. “Maybe we should let Matthew and Elizabeth speak for themselves and explain their thinking on this matter.”

“Are you suggesting that you approve of this harebrained idea?” Asa shook his finger at her. “We’ve already lost Peter—do you wish to see your only other children and your grandchildren banished to the wilderness?”

“Certainly not.” She firmly shook her head. “But they are entitled to their opinions. I should like to hear more.”

“Why?”
Asa demanded. Now he turned to Elizabeth. “And why, pray tell, would you embrace such folly?”

She took in a deep breath, steadying herself. “James and I used to talk of our future, Father. We wanted a change. We knew that our farm was small and that the land was worn out from too many years of tobacco.”

“And then you became abolitionists,” Asa reminded her. “Getting rid of your slaves didn’t make farming any easier.”

She nodded. “I know. But we didn’t regret it then, and I don’t regret it now. Especially after reading Harriet Beecher Stowe’s book last summer.”

“And thanks to
Uncle Tom’s Cabin,
we followed your lead.” Clara pointed at her husband. “Asa, you know good and well that it was the right and Christian thing to do. So don’t be complaining about it now, even if it does make farming harder.”

“Peter had been considering going west,” Matthew told his father in a quiet tone.

“That’s true,” Elizabeth agreed. “He and James spoke of it many times. He didn’t like that so many newcomers were moving to Kentucky.”

“I do recall him expressing frustration over how Selma was changing… growing too fast.” Clara got a wistful look. “Perhaps it’s unfortunate he didn’t go west before the cholera outbreak.” Her brow creased. “But we discouraged him then…”

“Many families are going west,” Elizabeth continued. “Each year, it seems that more farms are being divided…more farmers are struggling to get by. Look at you, Father. Your farm has been divided so many times, there’s hardly enough land for Matthew to support a family anymore.”

“That’s only because you children are third generation in these parts.” Asa waved his hands. “When your grandparents came to this land there was plenty to go around.”

“That’s what we’re saying, Father. There was enough
before,
but what about future generations? And right now our government is offering 320 acres of prime agricultural land. Beautiful and rich land, free for the taking. Can you imagine such bounty?”

“But this is our home,” Asa insisted. “Your ancestors carved out a fine way of life right here. We have good solid houses, big barns, well-bred livestock, corrals and fencing and wells…You have a nearby town and friends and family. A church, a school, a community. We are comfortable, are we not?”

“Yes, Father, we are comfortable. But what is there for Jamie and Ruth to look forward to here?”

Asa frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m glad Kentucky is enough for you, Father, but what if Matthew and I and the children need more?”

He shook his head. “What more could you want?”

“John and Malinda wrote letters describing the beautiful and fertile land in the Oregon Territory. They say anything can grow there. Livestock thrives, roaming free year-round. They wrote of rivers and streams full offish. Forests with abundant timber. Serene lakes and a majestic ocean. It’s a new land…and it’s a future.”

Asa ran his hand over his head in frustration.

“Think about this, Father. What if your ancestors hadn’t decided to go west? What if they had been content to stay in England?”

“They had cause to come here. Remember, they came for religious freedom.”

“But what if they hadn’t come, Father? What if they had stayed behind? Would you be happier there?”

Now he looked confused.

“I want an adventure,” Matthew declared.

Asa shook his finger at Matthew. “You want to run away!”

Matthew slammed his fist onto the table so soundly that the teacup jumped on the saucer. “What if I
do
want to run away? It’s my life. Should I not have the freedom to do as I choose? What about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?”

Now the room grew quiet, but Elizabeth could tell that emotions were not only sitting on the surface but raw as well. There were still words left to be said, but it was getting late.

“Father and Mother,” she said gently, “I never meant to introduce this controversy on Christmas Eve. And I am sorry if it grieves you to think your only two living children are considering such an adventure. But when Matthew told me he wanted to leave, I couldn’t sit silently. I knew I had to express my true feelings.”

“Elizabeth Anne,” Asa asked slowly, “are you honestly telling me that you think you are strong enough to endure the rigors and hardships of traveling for months? That you are capable of making a home for you and your children? That you can provide for them? Out there in the wilderness?”

“John and Malinda are there,” she reminded him. “And James’ parents too. They’ve all settled in a fertile valley just a day’s travel from the Pacific Ocean. They have already started a school and a church. And their description of the climate sounds ideal. I suspect if I write to them, they would have land already picked out for me to settle on by the time I got there. So you see, it isn’t as if I would be alone when I arrive.”

“And I would be there to help her too,” Matthew pointed out in a voice that sounded more like the brother she knew and loved.

Elizabeth looked directly at him. “It could be a grand adventure.”

He nodded. “I am in need of a grand adventure.”

“Oh, my.” Clara shook her head. “I am in need of bed.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “It’s late. Again, I apologize for putting you two through this tonight. It had not been my intention.”

Asa stood, helping his wife to her feet. “Don’t you worry,” he told her in a conspirator’s tone. “They will probably have changed their minds about this by morning.”

Elizabeth just laughed.

“I do have one question,” Clara said before leaving. “Do you two plan to tell anyone else about your outlandish ideas?”

Elizabeth glanced at Matthew, and he simply shrugged.

“Because there is the Christmas service at church tomorrow. And then there’s the annual gathering at your grandparents’ home afterward. Do you plan on mentioning this to anyone tomorrow?” Clara looked truly concerned.

“I don’t even plan on attending either of those functions,” Matthew said.

“But Matthew, it’s Christmas.” Clara frowned.

“I do not blame him in the least,” Elizabeth said. “You know how conversations will go.”

“She’s right,” Asa agreed. “Matthew doesn’t need to be subjected to that.”

Matthew stood to face his mother. “Please, make my apologies to the grandparents.”

Clara simply nodded.

“And I will not say a word about our migration plans,” Elizabeth assured her.

Clara sighed in relief and then bade them both goodnight.

“Mercy!” Elizabeth said after their parents were out of earshot. “I had not planned on any of that.”

Matthew threw a couple more logs on the fire and then sat down in his father’s chair, stretching his legs out in front of him with a quizzical expression, as if their conversation was still sinking in. “Are you really sincere about this, Lizzie? Would you truly take Jamie and Ruth on the Oregon Trail like you said?”

She thought hard about her answer. “I have been praying for God to lead me in regard to this strange dream,” she said quietly. “If I am convinced that God is the one doing the leading, then yes, I would go to Oregon.”

He just nodded.

However, Elizabeth also knew that she would never have broached this volatile topic, especially on Christmas Eve, if not for her brother’s unexpected broken engagement. Common sense told her there was still a chance that Matthew might change his mind about going west after the initial shock of Violet’s coldhearted betrayal wore off. Perhaps in a week or two. And she certainly hoped it would wear off because Violet Lamott hardly seemed worth such emotional pain and suffering. If that were to happen, and if Matthew decided to forgo this trip, Elizabeth wondered if she would continue to pursue this somewhat foolhardy dream. Was she strong enough to attempt something like this on her own steam? And yet, if she didn’t go, she might be sorely disappointed too. Truly, it was best to leave it in God’s hands.

A
s promised, Elizabeth did not breathe a word of her westward dreams on Christmas Day. Instead, she was polite and congenial, if not slightly bored, as she visited with her female relations following the Christmas service at church. And certainly it was better to be with the women than to be subjected to the heated political argument going on in the next room. As usual, the debates were over secession and Northern oppression and slavery and abolition and all the other controversial topics of the day. Elizabeth had opinions on all these issues, but she knew the men would not care to hear them. Nor was she inclined to express them.

And to be fair, it wasn’t that cooking or sewing or child rearing were of no interest to her. Normally, she engaged in these housekeeping conversations. It was simply that she was distracted. Instead of listening to Aunt Belle describing her latest quilt-top pattern, Elizabeth secretly daydreamed of how she was about to embark on an exciting journey. Fresh ideas for this adventure had been fueled by reading one of her father’s newspaper stories. She’d discovered it the night before after everyone else had gone to bed. As a result she’d stayed up until she finished it.