She smiled. “I think you and Mother have so much to offer in the way of experience and wisdom and knowledge.”
He nodded. “That’s true.”
“And if there are tasks that are difficult along the trail, you will have Matthew and me and the children to help. And you are both strong and in good health.”
“That’s true,” he said again.
She reached out and grasped both their hands. “I want whatever is best for you.”
“And I want the good Lord to lead us,” Asa said quietly.
“Maybe he is leading us,” Clara suggested. “Remember the scripture…‘A little child shall lead them’? Perhaps our children are leading us.”
Asa nodded thoughtfully as he turned back to Clara. “You truly want to do this?”
She nodded with misty eyes. “I do, Asa.”
He took in a deep breath and finally smiled. “Then so do I.”
Elizabeth could hardly believe her ears. “You do?”
His smile turned into a grin. “There’s so much to be done.” He stood. “I need to look into wagons, and we need to start deciding what to take. We’ll have to sell our farms and get organized.”
“I have lists,” she told him.
He laughed. “Oh, I have lists too, Elizabeth.”
“You do?”
He nodded with a sly look. “Surely you don’t think that I was going to let you and James and the children go off without being informed of what you were up against. I’ve been gathering information and reading up on the Oregon Trail for years.” He reached for Clara’s hand. “Come on, wife, we have work to do.”
Clara tossed Elizabeth a surprised but pleased expression. “Thank you for the coffee and doughnuts,” she said lightly.
“Certainly,” Elizabeth replied, still half dazed as she walked them to the door. “And when the ground gets dry enough, I suggest you start walking every day, Mother. Perhaps you could walk over here and back.”
“Every day?” Clara pulled on her gloves.
“That’s nothing compared to how much you’ll be walking on the trail,” Asa told her.
“But I thought I would ride in the wagon,” she said.
He chuckled. “Well, you can do that if you like.”
“It can be a rough ride in a wagon,” Elizabeth explained as she walked them outside. “Not like our carriages, Mother. Many women prefer to walk alongside the wagons.”
Clara tied her bonnet strings beneath her chin and nodded. “Fine, then. I will begin walking daily. I’ve always enjoyed a good invigorating walk. I’ve heard that it’s good for the vital organs.”
Elizabeth smiled and waved as her parents drove away. Flax chased their carriage down the driveway and then happily trotted back, his tail wagging. “Come on, boy,” she called. “Let’s go inside.”
As she closed the door, she felt torn. On one hand, she could not be happier to think that they would all be doing this together. On the other hand, what if this trip proved too grueling for her parents? What if some unexpected calamity befell them? Would she feel responsible? Would she blame herself?
Instead of worrying about something she had little or no control over, Elizabeth decided to pray. Standing in front of the parlor window, she thanked God for how he had led her, and she then asked him to guide her parents’ decision. If there was reason for them to remain here in Selma, she prayed God would stop them from going…that he would direct them away from this before it was too late to turn back. But she hoped with all of her heart that wouldn’t happen. More than anything, she wanted her parents in Oregon with her.
As she went into the kitchen, she realized she needed to share this good news with John and Malinda. Wouldn’t they be surprised to hear that not only she and the children were coming west, but the rest of her family as well! Malinda’s last letter had mentioned how their little town grew a bit bigger each year as new citizens arrived from the East or babies were born. She would be so pleased to learn that their population was going to increase by six this year.
However, Elizabeth knew it would take some time for her letter to reach the other side of the continent. And it was doubtful she would hear back from Malinda before it was time to depart on their trip. But John and Malinda were experienced with life in the West, and perhaps they would know points along the way where they might send correspondence to Elizabeth. She hurried to James’ old writing table, and opening a new bottle of ink, she began to plan the words she would pen to her relatives—words of hope and joy and great expectations!
Chapter Eight
It didn’t take long for the folks in Selma to stop gossiping over the broken engagement of Matthew Dawson and Violet Lamott. Even talk of Walter Slake, who’d been renamed Walter Snake, subsided some. Elizabeth knew this was because their friends and neighbors had something more scintillating to discuss. The talk of the town now revolved around the news that the Martins and Dawsons planned to migrate west come spring. Some folks thought the family courageous, but others thought they’d lost their ever-loving minds.
“Have you sold your farm yet?” Oliver Thorne asked Elizabeth as she did some shopping at the Thorne Mercantile. Elizabeth knew that the store owner was well aware of the status of her negotiations.
“Thomas Barron has made me an offer,” she informed him. “I expect we’ll come to an agreement soon.”
His dark brows arched as he measured off ten yards of moss-green calico. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I don’t quite know what I’ll use this fabric for just yet, but I’m sure it will be useful in Oregon. It’s certainly pretty enough. Perhaps it will become dresses for Ruthie and me.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not speaking of the dry goods, Mrs. Martin.”
Of course, she knew that. She was simply being coy.
“I can’t fathom why you and your family are making this move.” He used what he probably assumed was a paternal tone. “I’ve done a fair amount of reading on the subject, and I can assure you, I would never dream of taking my wife and children out to that savage wilderness. Do you have any idea what it’s like out there in the Wild West? Are you prepared for what you’ll encounter?”
“I’ll admit that I don’t know everything there is to know about traveling that far west,” she confessed. “But I’ve been studying up on it for years. And as you know, my in-laws have all relocated there. From what they’ve written me, it’s a wonderful place to farm and raise a family.”
“But a lone woman, traveling through Indian country?” He frowned as he snipped a straight line through the fabric. “Seems mighty perilous to me.”
She gave him a tolerant smile. “I won’t be alone, Mr. Thorne. Didn’t you hear that my parents and my brother are going as well?”
“Certainly, I heard that…but still, you being a widow woman with two youngins…well, if you ask me…” He shook his head. “Just don’t seem right.”
She pointed to a bolt of blue gingham now. “I think I’d like ten yards of that one too, please.”
“That’s a lot of cloth,” he said as he reached for the indigo blue. “Looks like you’re going to be mighty busy.”
“As you can imagine, we’re trying to stock our wagons with useful items—things that won’t be easily procured once we set out on our journey. As a result, I expect you’ll be seeing a fair amount of my mother and me in your store for the next few weeks. We have quite a list of goods to purchase.”
His eyes lit up as if he was counting his profits now. “Well, I reckon it’s a challenge to fully outfit a wagon.”
“It certainly is.” She examined one of the large storage tins, testing the lid to see that it fit snugly and thinking it would be practical for staples. “Fortunately, we’ll be taking three wagons. That allows us to take more. But we’re planning carefully, making the best use of the space and weight.”
“Does that mean you’re driving your own wagon?” He folded the gingham into a neat bundle.
“I am
.”
He looked skeptical. “I’ve heard an oxen team can prove a challenge, even for a strong, experienced man. How do you expect you’ll manage that by yourself?”
“Matthew and my father will drive the heavy wagons, and they’ll be pulled by oxen teams. I’ll drive a lighter wagon with a horse team. We’ve chosen our most dependable plow horses to do the job. I don’t see that it will be much of a problem. In fact, I think Jamie might even be able to handle driving some.” She made a confident nod. “We reckon it’ll be handy to have horses once we get to the Oregon Territory.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
“You know, Mr. Thorne, the Oregon Territory will be a wonderful opportunity for smart businessmen like yourself someday.” She paused from picking out buttons to look him in the eyes. “For anyone with a spirit for adventure, it could be quite a profitable move.”
He made a nervous laugh. “Don’t you go trying to lure me out on some harebrained quest, Mrs. Martin. My wife would sooner have me tarred and feathered than to entertain such a notion.”
Fortunately, more customers had come into the mercantile, and Elizabeth was allowed to browse and shop in peace for a few minutes.
“Elizabeth Martin!” exclaimed a female voice. “I thought that was you.”
Elizabeth turned to see Mary Franklin approaching. The two had gone to school together as children but had never been close friends. Truth be told, Elizabeth had never cared for Mary and partly for good reason. However, she was determined to take the high road with Mary now. “Good morning,” she said cheerily. “It’s been a long time.”
“Indeed, it has.” Mary peered curiously at Elizabeth. “Is it true what I’ve been hearing lately?”
Elizabeth braced herself. “I suppose that would depend on what you’ve heard.”
“Did Violet Lamott jilt your younger brother?”
Elizabeth made a stiff smile. “The engagement is off.”
“And is that why you and your entire family are fleeing to the West?” Mary’s eyes were still as piercing blue as Elizabeth remembered, but her previously auburn hair was now the color of a faded board, and she had gained a considerable amount of weight.
“It’s true my family and I are venturing to Oregon,” Elizabeth said lightly. “Perhaps you remember my late husband’s younger brother, John Martin?” Elizabeth not only knew that Mary would remember John but also thought she might still regret that John had not proposed marriage to her. Mary had been smitten by John as a youth. “John and Malinda and their five children as well as the elder Martins have all settled quite happily in the Oregon Territory,” she continued. “They homestead in a lovely green valley just a day’s travel from the Pacific Ocean.” Elizabeth put several spools of thread into her shopping basket. “Malinda writes me that the climate is so mild, their livestock graze year-round.”
“So it is true. You are leaving.”
Elizabeth nodded as she browsed through the sewing notions. “We plan to depart Selma in just a few weeks.”
“This is so sudden!”
“If James had lived, we surely would have been in Oregon by now.” Elizabeth looked evenly at Mary. “So truly, it is not so sudden.”
“But to pick up and leave like this?” Mary frowned. “I can only imagine how distressing this must be for you, Elizabeth. Such a demanding journey…for a woman your age…it’s inconceivable.”
“Nonsense.” Elizabeth dropped a spool of white cord into her basket. “I’m looking forward to this trip as a great adventure. So is the rest of my family.” She glanced around to see that other shoppers were listening in. “And if you’ll excuse me, there is much to be done. But if I don’t see you again before we leave, I wish you well, Mary.” She made a genuine smile now. She did wish Mary well, especially since she had heard that Mary’s marriage to an older wealthy man was not a very happy one. Elizabeth reached out to squeeze Mary’s gloved hand. “And if you are truly worried for the welfare of my family and me, I invite you to keep us in your prayers in the upcoming months.”
“Well, yes, of course.” Mary nodded quickly.
Elizabeth made a few more selections, fended a few more neighborly inquiries, and finally decided to take her mother’s advice and defer the bulk of her shopping for Paducah and Kansas City. Merchandise was cheaper in Paducah because it was located on the Ohio River. It would also save time because no one would know her there. However, once in Kansas City, prices would probably jump much higher. And who could predict whether they would have all that was needed to complete a successful overland journey?
This very subject had spawned a lively debate among their family the previous week. Without consulting Elizabeth or her mother, the men had decided that they should do all their purchasing in Kansas City, including wagons and livestock and all their supplies. “That way we can travel up river unencumbered. We won’t be carrying all our worldly goods with us,” Asa had explained.
“We’ll just jump off the riverboat in Kansas City and get whatever we need there,” Matthew added. “And off we go.”
“What if they don’t have everything we need?” Elizabeth queried.
“Oh, sure they will,” Asa told her.
“But what about our own things?” Clara protested. “I’ve already begun to box up what I wish to take with us to Oregon. Are you saying I must leave it behind?”
Asa frowned. “Well, I suppose we could take some freight with us on the river.”
“Wouldn’t that mean we’d need to take a wagon from home?” Elizabeth questioned.
“I suppose…” Asa scratched his chin.
“And how would we dispose of the wagon before getting on the boat?” Clara frowned.
“We could sell it.”
“So we would sell our perfectly good wagon, probably at a loss, and then turn around and buy new ones, perhaps not as well built as the wagons we left behind but most likely at a premium price?”
Asa and Matthew exchanged uncertain looks.
“And what about the wagon you were working on?” Elizabeth challenged her brother. “It sounded like it was coming along nicely. Mother said you got it rigged up to hold a sleeping hammock beneath it and a number of other improvements. You probably won’t find a wagon outfitted like that in Kansas City.”
“Yes…but it’s smaller than the usual prairie schooner. I decided I want a bigger one.”
“But it would be easier to drive a smaller one,” she said.
Asa pointed at her. “Probably just the right size for you to drive, Lizzie. That wagon would be relatively easy to handle with a dependable team of horses.”
“What about getting our wagons in Kansas City?” Matthew insisted.
“Think about it,” Elizabeth told him. “Wouldn’t it be much simpler and cheaper to utilize our own sturdy wagons right from our own farms? And to outfit them here with our own tools and supplies, items we’ve trusted and used for years?”
Asa nodded. “That does make sense. I don’t like the idea of getting out on the trail with shoddy tools and equipment.”
“I’ve read time and again that careful preparation is the key to success on the Oregon Trail,” Clara told them. “I say we take our own wagons and livestock.”
“And that gives us more time to plan carefully and to load them properly,” Elizabeth persisted. “And that way we will know exactly what we have before we get to Kansas City. We won’t be scrambling to find everything we need or settling for low quality. Think about it, Father. How would you like to be out on the trail and have a poorly made wagon breaking down on you?”
“You make a good point,” Asa agreed. “But it will cost more to transport them on the riverboats. And I’m not sure about transporting livestock.”
“Maybe we could get some of our livestock in Kansas City,” Matthew suggested.
“But would it be dependable livestock?” Clara challenged.
“Do you want to be out on the trail with an unruly team of oxen?” Elizabeth asked. “Or an a
nimal that’s in poor health? We know our livestock.”
“That’s a valid point too,” Asa concurred.
So it was decided they would use some of their own livestock, including their most dependable horse team, to get their fully outfitted prairie schooners up to Paducah and loaded onto the riverboat. If needed, they would purchase additional oxen and horses in Kansas City. In the meantime, there was much to be done and only a few weeks left to do it.
As Elizabeth drove the carriage home from town, she wondered what she would miss most about Selma. It was unrealistic to think she would miss nothing. But at the moment, with dreams of a great adventure to occupy her thoughts, it was hard to think of much else. Certainly, she would miss their church…and the children’s school. And, she realized as she pulled in front of the house, she would miss Brady too.
“Hello, Missus Martin,” he called out as he came to help with the horses.
“Hello, Brady.” She smiled as she reached for her shopping basket. “There are some parcels in back, if you wouldn’t mind bringing them into the house for me.”
“Yes, Missus.”
Elizabeth knew that Brady had been sad to hear her news. However, he had not been terribly surprised. James had told Brady years ago, back when he’d given him his freedom papers, about their plans to go west. Even then, Brady had claimed he was too old to make that journey. That was why James had promised Brady that when the farm was sold, he would make a written provision for Brady to remain as a farmhand for the rest of his days. Fortunately, this was one of the details that Thomas Barron had agreed to. The particulars that were still in discussion had more to do with furnishings and farm implements. Thomas Barron seemed to feel that since Elizabeth could not take everything with her, she should include them with the price of the house and farm.
“Thomas Barron is a shrewd businessman,” her father had told her a few days ago. “How about letting me handle this negotiation for you?”
Elizabeth had been relieved to pass this on to him. There was enough to occupy her without dealing with Thomas Barron as well. However, Thomas Barron’s greediness had motivated her to do something she hadn’t considered before. And it was why the front parlor was now piled high with boxes. As Elizabeth began going through her household goods, she realized that many of these items, things she had accrued from James’ grandparents and the original property owners, might be useful to others, so she had offered the surplus to her church. Pastor Kincaid had kindly accepted her donation and already had a group of eager church women who promised to put her donations to good use for missionaries both in America and abroad.
Westward Hearts Page 7
