Westward the Dream (10 page)

Caitlan beamed her a smile. “Aye, that's good news indeed.”

“I've been thinking more about us getting you to California. The more I think about it, the more positive I am that it could work. If we can only convince Brenton to put off this nonsense of joining the militia.” Jordana leaned closer before continuing. “And that is where you come in. He cares for you, Caitlan. He considers you as much his responsibility as he does me. If you were to say to him how important it was to you that he take you to California, well, I'm thinking he would agree to it.”

“But I'm not in any hurry. Kiernan doesn't even know I'm here. I've been doing some thinkin', and I figure to make me own way and pay him back the money he sent us.”

“But that could take years,” Jordana argued.

“Most likely it'll take months. I'm very frugal. But at least I won't be goin' to him with me hand empty. I can't do that.”

“But this could save Brenton's life. He doesn't know what he's doing,” Jordana continued to protest. “I just believe if we give him a chance to see the truth of the situation, he'll see for himself how foolish his ideas are.”

“I wouldn't call them foolish,” Caitlan replied. “He's a good man, yar brother. He must be all torn up inside to see what's happenin' to his kin and to his home. Men seem to take it especially hard, given their upbringin' to protect what's theirs and hold their families together.”

Jordana straightened up and looked at Caitlan in stunned silence. “I suppose I never saw it that way. He's a good man, but he's so young, and he's always been sheltered from life. He's not at all the kind who would make it very well living as a soldier. He couldn't hurt a flea.”

Caitlan nodded. “I'm sure yar right. After all, who would know him better? Just don't be afraid to let him make his own way. Ya won't be here alone. I know where the school is. Brenton drew me a nice manageable map for gettin' around. Somehow, we'll see each other and we'll be the good friends we promised to be.”

“I'm sure you're right,” Jordana said with a sigh. “I just want to keep him safe, even if I know that's God's job.”

“It's Brenton's job, Jordana. Leave it to him.”

10

“This is a beautiful view,” Victoria admitted to Anna Judah. The older woman had convinced her husband to bring Victoria and Kiernan along on this final expedition to Donner Pass before the Judahs returned to Sacramento.

“I fell in love with this country when I first set eyes on it.” Anna's eyes glowed as they scanned the horizon. “It has a rugged, unspoiled nature, in spite of the mining communities that surround it. I like to imagine that I could live out my days here in perfect contentment. But I do miss my family back east.”

Victoria nodded and looked away to keep Anna from seeing the tears in her eyes. How could she be so easily moved to tears by such a simple statement?

“It isn't easy to be a woman in the West,” Anna continued. “There is an isolation out here that threatens to eat you alive. And when your husband is gone, you sometimes question the sanity of allowing yourself to be left alone for weeks on end while he seeks his dreams.

“It's even worse for those women whose husbands die, and that is a common fate out here. Widows are faced with so few choices. Most remarry immediately; others less fortunate end up in nightmarish situations. Frankly, I think we females need to band together and form some sort of social club to look after one another. Our husbands can't always be there for us, and as this transcontinental railroad becomes a reality—and knowing my Ted, it won't be long before it is—more and more men will be sent out on the lines away from their loved ones.”

Victoria didn't know how to reply. She hadn't thought about what might happen if Kiernan hired on with the railroad. Anna didn't give her long to consider an answer, however, as she continued to speak on the matter.

“Women seem more inclined to pine away for the things they've left behind. It wears on them, and it wears on the men they love. Some women are never able to deal with the isolation, and it ruins their lives and their marriages.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I suppose I've even had my moments. I've thought about telling Ted how hard it is when he goes away, but I know it would only cause him to worry.”

“I've tried to adapt,” Victoria finally said. “I don't always like it, but I deal with it. I do miss talking to my mother and seeing my friends, but I love my husband and do not wish to be separated from him any more than I have to be.”

“I feel the same way, which is why I often travel with Ted. I've learned to pack on a moment's notice, and I know just how little we can take with us and still be comfortable.”

Victoria smiled. “I don't suppose I've learned the knack of that. It seems we are always at a loss for something. I tried to encourage Kiernan to settle in a bigger city where we wouldn't have to worry about such things, but he doesn't know yet what God would have him do.”

Anna laid a comforting hand on Victoria's shoulder. “Sometimes we have to set out, expecting God's direction as we go. Seems to me an awful lot of folks miss the truly important opportunities of life because they hesitate. Fear holds some back, but many are lost for their inability to make up their minds.”

“Kiernan is good at making up his mind, but unfortunately he's made some poor choices, and those continue to haunt him,” Victoria admitted.

“Everyone makes poor choices.”

“Yes, but his poor choices cause him to question his value as a man.”

“Men are always like that. Women make a bad decision, and they face the consequences with emotional outbursts and broken hearts. Men, however, see it as a question of their virility and ability. My Ted is no different than your Kiernan. He hasn't always done the right thing, and sometimes even when he has, it has cost him dearly. But he holds on to his dreams, and your husband must do the same. After all, the dreaming is free.”

Victoria shook her head at the woman who couldn't be more than ten years her senior. “No, the dreaming comes at a price. And we've paid dearly.”

Anna smiled sympathetically. “The actions of trying to bring about the dream might well cost you, but keeping the thing alive in your heart is not only free—it often pays you. The dividends are encouragement, hope, even endurance.”

Victoria looked out across the vast expanse of granite gorges and white-rapid rivers. Sometimes she felt as though her life was a series of maneuvers to get from one canyon across another. Would it never be easy?

“I suppose you're right. I just desire so much more.”

“But perhaps once my husband talks to yours, you'll have your desire fulfilled.”

“What do you mean?” Victoria asked, turning to Anna.

“Ted wants you both to come to Sacramento. We live there, as you know. It would be such a pleasure to have you there with me. You could live nearby, and we could be great friends and share our dreams. Maybe even set up that social club for women. It is just as well I probably won't travel east. That would give me plenty of time to get you established and introduced in town.”

Victoria's heart quickened. “That would be glorious.” She could very nearly picture it in her mind.

“I can tell it would make you very happy,” Anna said softly. “But even if it doesn't work out, I know we will remain good friends. I have greatly enjoyed your company. I know the years between our ages aren't all that many, but never having children of my own, I suppose I tend to mother other women's children.”

The reminder of children caused Victoria to instantly close her heart. She wasn't yet ready to give over this part of herself to Anna. The pain was too intense, and in spite of the fact that she'd heard it said that Anna and Ted suffered the same fate, Victoria couldn't bring herself to discuss the matter.

The light was already fading in the west, and with the absence of the sun's warmth, the air had turned chilly. Victoria rubbed her arms. “It's getting colder. I suppose I should go back to our camp and build up the fire. The men will be back from their surveying and expect to eat something hot.”

“I suppose you're right,” Anna replied with a nod. “Let me gather up my sketching materials, and we'll make our way back together.”

Victoria waited while Anna picked up her pencils and sketch pad. Ted Judah had put his wife to work sketching out the countryside. He believed her sketches would speak for themselves and convince investors and legislators alike that the transcontinental railroad would have every possibility of making it through the Sierra Nevadas. It was with Anna's prints and the men's surveys that Ted hoped to inspire the president and Congress to offer aid in seeing the transcontinental line accomplished.

Back at their campsite, Anna reached out to stop Victoria. “Please don't be afraid to come to me if you should need to talk. I sense there is a great deal troubling you, but I won't pry.”

Victoria smiled and pushed her chestnut braid back over her shoulder. The older woman's face was softened with concern and sincerity, and Victoria longed to know her better. “Thank you for being so considerate. You remind me a lot of my mother, except she would have happily pried to learn the truth.”

Anna laughed. “I'm sure I would like her very much.”

Victoria nodded. “Yes. I'm sure you would both be great friends.”

Later that night, Victoria snuggled against Kiernan in the shelter of their tent. She knew nowhere else in the world where she could find such comfort and happiness.

“Did ya have a good day?” Kiernan asked her softly and placed a light kiss upon her forehead.

“Anna and I climbed up the mountain a ways, and she made some very lovely sketches. I've never seen country quite so beautiful, unless of course it was in Virginia.”

“Ya miss it a lot, don't ya?”

Victoria stiffened. “I wouldn't be happy there without you.” She prayed he wouldn't start talking about sending her home to be with her uncle or aunt until her parents returned from across the sea.

“Aye, and I wouldn't be happy without ya here. Still, I know ya miss yar family. I know ya wish for a family of yar own.”

The last thing Victoria wished to discuss was their lack of children. Now the issue had come up twice in one day, and the guilt she felt inside was steadily eating at her. She didn't know why God had refused to give her a child, but the issue haunted her and made her life miserable. She had often thought that at least with a child, she might not be so lonely. But still no baby came.

“Victoria?” Kiernan called her name softly.

“Hmmm,” she said, trying to sound nearly asleep.

“I hope ya know how much I love ya. Yar all the world to me.”

“I love you too,” she replied and fell silent.

He kissed her again on the forehead and said nothing more. For this, Victoria was grateful. Her heart condemned her for turning away from Kiernan and shutting him out. She knew the issue of children was one they would have to discuss, but she feared that once the details were laid out on the table, there would be no taking them back. She would have to face that she had failed as a wife, and Kiernan would love her less because she could not give him a son.

She was certain of this. More certain of this than of his promises to love her forever. A tear slid down her cheek, but she refused to wipe it away. Any movement would let Kiernan know she was still awake, and because his breathing had not yet fallen into its deep rhythmic pattern, Victoria remained still. She could not bear to disappoint him, and yet as each month passed by, she was more and more certain she would never be able to give him a child.

What will happen then? she wondered silently. Will he leave me? Will he close his heart away from me? She forced herself to calm. It wouldn't be good for either of them if she began to cry in earnest.

Oh God, she prayed, please help me. I feel so inadequate—so hopeless. Is it too much to ask that you might give Kiernan the son he desires? That you might give me the child I long for?

She thought of Hannah in the Bible. She, too, had prayed for a child, and God had given her Samuel. She had pledged that child to God. Perhaps, Victoria thought, this is what I'm doing wrong. I haven't offered my child to God.

I would do that, she said, her eyes trying to focus in the pitch-black darkness of her tent. I would give him back to you, Lord. I would raise him to love you—to serve you. Couldn't Hannah's prayer be mine?

Kiernan began to snore and Victoria sighed in relief. He only did this when he slept on his back with her in his arms. Easing away from him, Victoria knew he would automatically reach out for her and roll toward her. He did this, and in turn the snoring ceased. Victoria found comfort in the fact that he was so certain she would be there. He put his arm across her waist and sighed.

The action caused Victoria to choke up again. Would the day come when he stopped reaching out? If she couldn't give him a child, would he no longer care whether she was there or not? The questions had no answers, and they pierced her heart with a sorrow she could not put into words. Her only hope was that God would hear her prayer.

No, she thought, remembering her mother's words from long ago. “
God is your hope
.” With or without giving her a child to love, God would still be her hope. She had to remember that. She had to cling to that one thought.