“Thanks, but I can’t.” Callie turned her horse around. Ma would need her. She’d better get back.
“Your stepmother can do without you for a few minutes. If she needs something done, she’s got two healthy, strapping daughters to do it.”
Florida’s answer caught her by surprise. Lydia and Nellie weren’t healthy and strapping. They were delicate and high-strung. Ma said so many a time. But were they really? Could Ma be exaggerating? They looked healthy enough in Florida’s eyes.
Callie slipped from her horse. “I do believe I’ll have that cup of coffee, Mrs. Sawyer.”
“Call me Florida.”
Soon, Callie was sitting comfortably with Florida beside the wagon, engaged in what amounted to a most ordinary conversation. They talked of the weather and if it might rain, how to bake a pie in the middle of nowhere, and the best way to wash clothes while standing knee-deep in a fast-running river. Yet despite their commonplace words, Callie couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed herself more. Here she was, having a conversation, not as servant to mistress, but woman to woman. A heady feeling indeed. Something she’d never experienced. Just as Florida was describing her recipe for johnnycakes, Luke rode up and joined them.
He scanned her critically. “I see you’ve recovered from yesterday.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “I don’t look like a drowned rat today, if that’s what you mean.”
“You certainly don’t,” Luke replied amidst their laughter.
A warm glow grew within her. She was so glad to be here, actually exchanging pleasantries with this puzzling man.
Florida continued with her johnnycake recipe. “You take one egg, half a cup of water, three-eighths of a cup of flour…oh dear, you’ll never remember.” She went to the wagon and returned with a notebook and pencil, which she offered to her guest. “Here, I’ll recite the recipe and you can write it down.”
In a twinkling, Callie’s beautiful world fell apart. Her good feeling disappeared into overwhelming humiliation, and her face heated with embarrassment. She wished she could be anywhere, anywhere but here. Throwing up a hand, she waved off the pencil and notebook. “I cannot… You see, I… I…”
“You can’t read or write,” said Luke swiftly in the most matter-of-fact way imaginable. “Don’t worry about it. Neither can a lot of people.”
Florida caught her mistake at once. “Shame on me. I never thought… But, of course, Luke’s right. There are lots of people in the world who cannot read or write and it doesn’t…it doesn’t mean a thing!”
If anything, Luke and Florida’s efforts to smooth Callie’s embarrassment made it even worse. She wanted to crawl in a hole and hide her face forever. She tried to find an answer but couldn’t speak.
“You never went to school?” Florida’s eyes brimmed with gentle sympathy.
Callie gulped over the lump that had formed in her throat. She must hold herself together, not let them see her burning shame. “Ma always needed help, what with the babies coming along and all.”
“What about the other children? Did they go to school?” Florida’s voice held an edge.
“Yes. They all went to school except me. I’m only a stepchild.” She could stand no more. She had to get away or she’d burst out crying in front of everyone. She arose with haste and grabbed Duke’s reins. “I’d best be going now.” Without waiting for an answer, she swung to the saddle and headed back to her wagon, intent upon leaving the scene of her complete disgrace behind.
* * * *
As Callie rode away, Luke and his sister watched after her. “Oh, dear, I feel terrible,” Florida remarked. “I humiliated the poor girl. It wasn’t my intention. I had no idea she couldn’t read or write.”
Luke’s gut wrenched. He’d learned to control his anger long ago, yet an overwhelming urge to confront the Whitakers took hold of him. He wanted to tell them Callie didn’t deserve such treatment, not only this business about school, but it was plain to see they considered her a servant, not much better than a slave. Florida had called Callie “poor girl.” Yes, she was all of that, yet there was something about her that stirred a puzzling emotion in his innards. It wasn’t sympathy. Exactly what it was, he wasn’t sure, except he’d been thinking about her a lot today, remembering how she looked wrapped in the blanket, naked underneath. He’d said she looked like a drowned rat. What he had failed to mention was she had looked like a very fetching drowned rat.
His sister kept shaking her head. “I feel so bad… Poor little thing. Do you remember the story of Cinderella? The mean stepmother, the two ugly stepsisters, the poor, mistreated stepdaughter who’s forced to work from dawn to dusk. That’s who Callie reminds me of.”
“You’re right. They’ve beat it into her head she’s worthless.” Luke frowned in thought. “Before this journey is over, she may surprise us.”
“Everyone should know how to read and write.” Florida’s face lit. “I have an idea.”
* * * *
As far back as she could remember, Callie had felt a deep shame she could neither read, write, nor had schooling of any kind. At one time or another, all the Whitaker children except her had attended the one-room schoolhouse three miles from the farm, a fact that made her shame even worse. The two older boys went clear through school. Even Lydia and Nellie had some education. Her flighty stepsisters were indifferent students at best, but at least they could read, write, and recite the multiplication tables. From an early age, Callie hid her deep envy of the stepbrothers and sisters who left each morning for that mystical place called school. She begged to go, but what with meals to cook, cows to milk, and babies to care for, she could never be spared for the luxury of acquiring an education.
“You don’t need school,” Ma had always said.
After a time, Callie had realized her stepmother would never change her mind. She stopped begging to go but never got over the embarrassment of being totally illiterate. Over the years, she had managed to hide her ignorance, but now, as she returned from her visit with Florida, her cheeks still burned from shame. It was bad enough Florida knew her secret, but far worse that Luke McGraw witnessed the disgraceful spectacle she’d made of herself.
That night, Callie cooked supper and did her chores in silence.
Later, when she joined her stepsisters in the tent, Nellie remarked to Lydia, “Here comes the little mouse. Did you notice how quiet she was tonight?”
“Callie, is something wrong?” Lydia asked.
“Just tired.” Callie crawled into her blankets and turned her back. After a day like today, she had no desire to talk and hoped her gossipy stepsisters would soon go to asleep.
No such luck. Soon Nellie’s excited chatter filled the darkness. “Oh, Lydia, he talked to me today. I knew he would!”
“Who do you mean?”
“You know who I mean. Coy Barnett, of course. You should have seen the way he looked at me. He likes me special. I know he does.”
“You’d better watch out. They say he’s a sly one.”
“Don’t be silly. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh really? If he asks you to go for a walk in the woods, you’d better not go.”
“If he asks me to go for a walk, I most certainly will go.”
“Sister!” Lydia sounded truly shocked. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“Then don’t say I never warned you.”
A long silence. Good. Callie hoped they were through chattering for the night. She was almost asleep when a soft whisper from Lydia broke the silence. “Nellie, are you still awake?”
“Yes.”
“Magnus Ferguson likes me especially. I can tell because he’s got that look in his eye, and he goes out of his way to talk to me.”
“I thought you liked Luke McGraw.”
“I do, but he pays no attention to me.”
Nellie snickered. “You’re not the only one. All the girls try to flirt with him, bu
t he’s not interested.”
“I still think he likes me, but for some reason, doesn’t care to show it. Why should I care? If I can’t have Luke, I’ll fall in love with Magnus.”
“That’s wonderful.” Nellie’s voice brimmed with elation. “I’m so glad we came on this journey. Pa can’t keep us away from the boys anymore, much as he’d like to. I’ll marry Coy, you marry Magnus, or maybe Luke, and Pa can’t stop us.”
Callie listened in silence. It would be nice if Nellie’s little dream came true, but she doubted it. From what she’d heard, Coy Barnett was not to be trusted, no matter what Nellie thought. As for Magnus, she doubted a man so intelligent could have any real interest in empty-headed Lydia, no matter how pretty she was.
Soon the conversation drifted and finally stopped as both sisters fell asleep. Callie remained wide awake, even though she had to rise before daybreak. Far into the night, she lay staring into the darkness, her churning thoughts preventing her from slipping into blessed slumber. It had been a horrible day, made worse when Lydia’s last words dragged her down to a new level of misery. I still think he likes me but for some reason doesn’t care to show it. Maybe her beautiful sister was right, but it was more likely that her imagination affected her thinking. Lydia was so vain she figured every man in the company was after her.
But why should I care? I don’t like him either. Like Lydia says, he’s too blunt and unfriendly. As she tossed and turned, she resolved to save herself from future pain and embarrassment by eliminating Luke from her thoughts and speaking to him as little as possible.
Chapter 5
Hester Whitaker was never at her best in the morning, being inclined toward ill humor when she first arose. The day following Callie’s visit with Luke and Florida, she was worse than usual. While Callie placed a pan of biscuits over the campfire, Ma addressed her in a strident voice that reeked with her discontent. “Where were you yesterday? You were gone much too long. What were you doing, having fun? And me here alone, trying to cope with the cooking and all the work besides.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m here now. You don’t have to worry.” Callie had a sudden notion to ask why Nellie and Lydia couldn’t be of more help. She’d look ridiculous if she made a fuss at this late date so she kept her mouth shut.
“See you don’t wander off today. There’s work to do, and there’s no time for you to be off somewhere enjoying yourself.”
“Yes ma’am.” Callie had long since grown accustomed to her stepmother’s brusqueness. She couldn’t remember a time when Ma gave her any love or, for that matter, showed affection to any of her sons. Perhaps that’s why the two older boys had left home at an early age. The same couldn’t be said for her daughters. Since the day each was born, Ma had lavished them with all her love and attention. They were the center of her life, her only joy. Callie suspected it wasn’t always so. She recalled a faded painting of her stepparents that sat on the mantle in the parlor. It had long since disappeared, but she remembered how handsome Pa appeared in the picture, how pretty Ma looked, and how both were smiling. Callie used to wonder what had happened to make them change. Why was Ma so unhappy now? Hardly ever smiling and yelling all the time. Ma had never said. She’d always kept her feelings to herself, but after years of listening to her parents’ bitter arguments, Callie figured she knew the reasons for her stepmother’s unhappiness.
Hester Stinson Whitaker was born to a well-to-do family in Memphis. Growing up, Hester had lived a life of privilege and luxury. Although she was no great beauty, when she became of marriageable age, her family’s prominence and social standing had made her one of the most popular belles in Memphis. She had her pick of suitors, but when Caleb Whitaker came to town, he’d swept her off her feet. Caleb had owned a cotton plantation not far from the city, a fact which made him one of the season’s most eligible bachelors. Soon her family had discovered the truth. Caleb’s so-called plantation was nothing more than a ramshackle farm that produced barely enough bales of cotton to eek out a living. Her parents had forbidden Hester to see him again, but the headstrong girl didn’t listen. Having fallen head over heels in love, she had eloped with the then-dashing and handsome Caleb Whitaker.
Her family never forgave her.
Callie could only guess, but she suspected Hester soon realized she’d made a horrible mistake, but there was no going back. She’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it. Before long, the dashing young man she’d married changed into a tyrant who kept her isolated and controlled her every move. He didn’t even look the same. The dark eyes Callie saw in the painting, which seemed so soft and soulful, had long since turned hard and passionless. The handsome features of the face that had so intrigued her stepmother were now covered by a bushy black beard, both ugly and threatening. Had her stepmother possessed a warmer heart and a greater desire to cope with life’s challenges, Callie suspected she might have come to terms with her situation and made life easier for herself and those around her. As it was, she grew more bitter as the years went by, blaming the world, everyone but herself, for her troubles.
Callie planned to stay close to the wagon all day, just as Ma had instructed, but when her chores were done and the day’s trek began, she couldn’t resist taking Duke for a short ride. She decided she would pass right by Florida’s wagon without speaking, but when her horse came parallel to the wagon seat, Florida called, “Stop and visit! I’ve been waiting for you to ride by.”
More than once, Pa declared a woman was too weak, too incompetent, to ever manage a team of oxen, but there sat Florida on the wagon seat, the usual white cap on her head. Was she ever without it? Reins in her hand, skirt spread wide, pantaloons beneath, sturdy boots propped on the footboard. She snapped the reins smartly. “Don’t look surprised. I can handle a team as well as any man. You could, too, if your pa would let you.”
Callie pulled alongside and set Duke to the slow pace of the wagon. “That’ll be the day. I’m just lucky he lets me ride.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Go ahead.”
“It strikes me you feel awfully bad you can’t read and write.”
Florida’s bluntness caught Callie off guard. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. “Yes, I guess I do feel sort of bad.” Pride kept her from revealing her devastation from yesterday.
“Sort of bad, my foot! You nearly cried you were so humiliated.”
Duke walked several paces before she replied. “I guess I was. I’ve always wanted to learn how to read and write. I feel awful that I can’t.”
“Well, you can.” Florida reached underneath the seat and brought up a book with tattered pages that was barely hanging together. “See this?”
“What is it?”
“McGuffey’s Reader. When we get to California, I plan to open a school, so I brought a big box of books with me. This is the one I’ll use to teach you how to read.”
“Me?” What was Florida talking about?
“You’re a smart girl. You shouldn’t have any trouble. By the time this journey’s over, you should be able to read and write, and I’ll teach you some other things, too, like a bit of geography and simple arithmetic.” Florida smiled. “How does that sound?”
At first Callie simply stared, so taken aback she could hardly comprehend what Florida was saying. Read and write? Up to now it had been the impossible dream, as hard to achieve as flying to the moon. “You mean I could actually…”
“Yes, yes!”
“But how—”
“Whichever way we can, honey. At the noon break, every time we stop, in the evening, whenever you have a spare moment, we’ll have a lesson.”
She, Callie Whitaker, was actually going to learn how to read! The whole idea of it was so new she could hardly comprehend. “I—I—don’t think my stepmother will let me.”
Luke had ridden up beside her and was listening. “Don’t let anyone tell you what to do. You’re not a slave. Nobody has the right to demand all y
our time.”
The truth of his words sunk in. She was not a slave. She would learn to read, despite Ma, Pa, and anything else that might stand in her way. “When do we start?”
Both Florida and Luke smiled, just as the train came to a halt for the first break of the day.
“We start right now. Come join me in the wagon, Callie.” Florida opened her tattered copy of McGuffey’s Reader. “We start with page one. This here letter is the first in the alphabet. It’s called ‘A.’ By the time we reach the Platte River, you’ll know them all.”
* * * *
The break ended just as Callie got back to her wagon. The train was underway again, and Ma, accompanied by Nellie and Lydia, was trudging alongside the plodding oxen. When she saw Callie, she burst, “Where have you been? Do you realize I’ve had no one to help me? Get down off that horse, Callie. I swear, I’ll have Caleb forbid you to ride.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She slid from Duke, tucked the McGuffey’s Reader under her arm, and tied the horse to the back of the wagon.
“What’s that you’ve got?”
Callie held up the tattered copy. “Look, Ma, it’s a primer. I’m going to learn to read. Mrs. Sawyer’s going to teach me.”
Nellie snickered. “Little Mouse learn to read? Can you imagine such a thing?”
“No, I cannot.” Lydia cast a sneering glance at Callie. “What a silly notion. Why would you bother?”
Callie lowered the book. “Because I’ve always wanted to learn to read and write.” Why explain further? They’d never understand. “Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
“It’s no reason at all.” Ma scowled. “I’ve never heard of anything so pointless. A time waster if ever there was one. And when, pray, are you going to find time for all this?”
Pa, who’d been listening while driving the wagon, lashed his whip over the oxen. “You heard what your ma said.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get my chores done.” Why couldn’t they understand how important this was to her?
Ma’s lips thinned with anger. “You most certainly will get your chores done. That’s because you’re going to take that book back to Mrs. Sawyer right now. Learn to read, indeed! You have no need of it. You know I count on your help. Why you would even consider anything so useless and unnecessary is simply beyond me.”
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