Elizabeth herself had lifted the massive rifle that Ben kept tucked in the back of the wagon, placed the butt against her shoulder, and shot a single bullet into the heart of the huge man lumbering toward Ben. She had struggled to put the horror of that afternoon behind her, only truly feeling whole again after discovering her pregnancy, but Georgia mentioning the more frequent attacks brought it all back.
She felt the tears burning against the backs of her eyes and she fought them, not wanting Georgia to see them. She hadn't talked to anyone about that afternoon, and she was most certainly not going to share it with Georgia, who would likely take it upon herself to tell everyone she encountered over the next several weeks.
Georgia was still rattling on, but Elizabeth wasn't really listening anymore. She hoped that the woman would exhaust all of her gossip and head out to find a fresh ear. Elizabeth's hand moved to her belly and she rubbed it slowly, calming herself with the feeling of her baby moving gently inside.
****
Dear Diary,
I am still shaking from my conversation with Georgia. She upset me so much that I had to leave the shop as soon as the other ladies arrived. I brought much of my work home with me so that I could continue to work on them while I am here, but I simply could not remain there any longer.
I know it is not her fault. She did not intend to upset me. She was just being her usual self and talking about the things that interest her, but it was all too much for me. I have been so excited about my family coming to California for a visit that I never even let myself think about the dangers that they would be facing. I knew that it would be challenging, but I had not really dwelled on the terrible things that could happen to them.
Now all I can think about is disease, horrible river crossings, and deadly bandits. I feel so guilty for being the cause of my entire family facing these hardships. What if something happens to them, Diary? How would I ever know, and how would I ever forgive myself?
Elizabeth
****
Elizabeth was sitting on the bed crying when Ben arrived home. He had been taking the afternoons primarily off since he had decided to build the extra room on the house; she had hoped that this would be one of those days so that she could talk to him about her conversation with Georgia. She felt like he was the only thing in the world that might make her feel better.
"Elizabeth? What's wrong?" he asked, coming into the room and kneeling down in front of her.
"I am so worried about my family," she said.
"What? Why?"
He looked confused and Elizabeth went through the entire conversation with Georgia. As she spoke, she felt herself calming down, but she was still upset by the time she finished. It was like Georgia had forced her to relive all of the things that she had suffered through a year before, and then dangled them in front of her like a threat against her entire family.
"Oh, Sweetheart," Ben said soothingly, reaching up to stroke Elizabeth's face with one hand as he held her hands in her lap with the other, "I know it was hard for you to listen to her talk like that, but you can't worry yourself. It is not good for you, and it is not good for the baby."
"I am just so afraid that something is going to happen to them, Ben. You know what we went through, and Georgia says that is has gotten worse."
"Georgia does not know what she is talking about. She only hears rumors and reads the gossip columns in those independent newspapers that drift around. I am not going to say that the trip is going to be easy on your family. You have done it twice, so you know that there are plenty of challenges ahead of them, but worrying yourself sick over them is not going to make it any better. Your father is a strong, brave man who knows what he is doing. He will do everything he can to keep the rest of them safe. All we can do for them is pray that the Lord will guide them and protect them on their way, and that they will arrive safely to us soon."
Elizabeth nodded, squeezing Ben's hand with both of hers. She knew that he was right. Her fear was not going to do her family any good, and it could put stress on the baby. She needed to keep herself calm and healthy so that she could carry the little one through the next several weeks and bring him or her safely into the world.
"You're right," Elizabeth said. "Thank you."
"Anytime, my dear." Ben tilted his head down so that he could look her in the eye, "I love you."
She smiled.
"I love you, too."
"Good. So, I have some news."
Ben stood and gently led Elizabeth to her feet so that they could walk together into the kitchen where he cut a piece of bread and nibbled on it leaning on the edge of the stove.
"What is your news?" Elizabeth asked, playfully shooing him away so she could start cooking lunch.
"I decided that you might have been right about me building the entire extra room by myself."
"Oh, really?"
"I still want to build it, but I think that if I am going to get it finished by the time your family arrives, I could use some help. A man that I have been working alongside up at the mines mentioned that he has done some woodworking in his day and that he had been looking for some extra work to help pay for his sister's family to make the journey over from Boston. He and his son are going to be coming over this evening to talk about the room, and we are planning on ordering supplies tomorrow."
"That's exciting," Elizabeth said.
She genuinely meant it, and it was a relief to be able to concentrate on something other than the lingering worries about her family.
"I think so. At least it will get the work done faster, and we have been so blessed, I like knowing that we can help someone else who is in need."
"Me, too."
****
Dear Elizabeth,
Mama says she doesn't know if this letter is actually going to get to you, but I don’t see why it wouldn't. If a letter can get all the way to California from Tennessee, why wouldn't it be able to get from any of the towns that we're going to be near to California? If anything, I would think that it would get to you faster.
We've been on the trail for a few weeks now. Sometimes I wake up with the bell first thing in the morning and have to remind myself that we are really on this journey again. It seems like a lifetime ago that we did this for the first time. I can't even tell you how excited I am to be coming to see you, and even more that I am enjoying the trip this time around.
Our last journey was so difficult for me. I'm sure that you remember how challenging it was for me to have to sit on those trunks the entire time and not get to get outside and walk along with you, Mama, and Maggie. It is almost as if I can still feel those sores that formed on the backs of my legs from the constant bouncing and rubbing while I rode.
Now I get to be outside all day and it is all Mama and Papa can do to actually get me back in the wagon. I have even walked in the rain just so that I didn't have to sit in the cramped inside of the wagon. You would not believe how much harder it is to travel with Johnny. How could one little baby cause so much of a fuss? He is adorable, but traveling does not suit him, and he has been sick and whiney for much of the time.
Maggie is such a good girl. She takes turns with Mama sitting in the back of the wagon with Johnny, playing games, singing songs, and telling stories. It does help keep him calmer for longer stretches than when Mama just holds him, and sometimes I feel guilty that I do not volunteer to take turns with him. Perhaps I will in the coming days, but for now I am letting myself enjoy the luxury of walking and running through the wagons with the other girls my age.
How funny it is to think about that as a luxury. I have heard so many of the women and children complaining about having to walk, but I am always eager to get started in the morning. I suppose they do not understand what it's like to know that you can't walk. If they did, maybe they would see the blessing of being able to walk as the gift from Heaven that it truly is.
Maybe I will walk the entire way to California! What a story that would be to tell my children and gran
dchildren. I guess I should stop writing now. I do not want to risk running out of paper before the journey is over. Hopefully we will be near enough to a town soon that I can pass this letter along to the post to send to you. I wonder how long it will take to get to you.
I can't wait to see you! Give Ben a hug for me.
Love always,
Carrie
****
Elizabeth laughed reading Carrie's letter. Her younger sister, now fourteen years old, had always been her best friend other than Ben, and leaving her at home in Tennessee had been the most difficult part of leaving her childhood home. This was the first letter she had ever received from her, and it was written in such a way that Elizabeth could nearly hear Carrie's voice coming through the words to her.
Just like Carrie, the letter bordered between childhood and adulthood, at once bubbly and playful, and trying to sound formal and proper. It was one of the things that Elizabeth loved so much about her younger sister. She was so absolutely sure of who she was, and never shied away from what she was thinking. Even through the struggles that had come due to the birth defect that left her legs twisted, she had always been happy, kind, and accepting. In response, everyone who met her loved her.
Elizabeth had often worried that she would suffer teasing or cruelty from the other children in school, but it seemed like her own cheerful sunniness touched everyone she met so that they treated her only with care. That is not to say that she had never experienced any negative consequences because of her incapacity. Every time the other children ran and played in the playground, Elizabeth knew Carrie had felt left out.
This is why Elizabeth didn't feel even a moment of disappointment at her sister for not participating in little Johnny's care. Carrie deserved to experience the full joy of her healthy legs, and that meant walking across the prairie as she had wished she could on their first passage across the country.
Elizabeth folded the letter and stood carefully from her chair so that she could step outside and check in on Ben. The weather had gotten noticeably warmer to the point that the inside of the home had started to feel a touch stuffy toward the middle of the afternoon, and it felt nice to breath in the fresh air. As she drew in a deep breath, the breeze carried to her the clean, familiar smell of sawdust.
At the back of the house, she could hear the rhythmic sound of the men cutting the pieces of wood they would use to create the extra room for the home. They had been working for a few weeks and, much to Elizabeth's delight, the room was really coming together. She had never doubted that Ben would get finished what he set his mind to, but it had been difficult for her to envision the three men just being able to add a new section to the house. She had said many prayers of thanks for James and Andrew, the father and his teenaged son who were helping Ben. Their experience building, along with Ben's experience working in the saw mill in Tennessee, were truly making this project a wonderful success and Elizabeth couldn't wait to see the new section of the home finished.
"Hello, my love," Ben said from where he stood straddling the wooden ribs that would become the new room's floor.
"It looks wonderful, Ben," Elizabeth said, "I can't believe how big it is."
From where she was standing, it looked like the new room was going to stretch across the entire width of the home and be as deep as their bedroom. Indeed, it was going to be so large, they could hang a curtain down the middle and make two rooms out of it quite comfortably.
Gazing at her husband, Elizabeth felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He moved easily, nothing in the way he lifted the large pieces of wood telling the story of his horrific burns from the fire at the saw mill that had been the main catalyst for them making the journey to California. She was so deeply proud of him and she took a moment to say a prayer of thanks for Ben, for the time that they had spent together, for God's deliverance through the challenges that they had faced, and the way he continued to prove what an incredible man and partner he had grown to be.
Later that evening, Elizabeth was wiping the final plate from supper and tucking it away in the cupboard when Ben came up behind her.
"I have been thinking about something these last few days that I want to talk to you about."
Elizabeth turned to him, worried by the strained voice. She dried her hands on her kitchen towel and placed it aside. Rubbing her belly in the way that calmed and soothed her, Elizabeth walked with Ben to the table in the main room and sat down.
"What have you been thinking about?" she asked cautiously.
"I am wondering if gold mining is what I should really be doing."
"What do you mean?"
Ben broke a piece off of one of the cookies that Elizabeth had put on a plate in the middle of the table and ate it.
"I know that we came all the way out here to make money mining gold like your father did, and we have. In fact, we made enough to set up in this house, open your shop, and even pay for that extra room that James, Andrew, and I are building out back."
"Yes, we have."
"Now that we have achieved what we set out to and we are doing well, I have been thinking about leaving the mines and doing something else."
"Like what?"
"I have always loved working with wood. That's why I did my work in the saw mill in Tennessee. Well, working on this extra room has shown me that that’s really what I enjoy doing. I am good at it, and I enjoy building things with my hands. I am starting to think that the real reason for us to come out here was not for me to mine gold, but for us to find our true paths. You are an amazing wife and have helped so many people as a seamstress, and you will be the most wonderful mother to our little one." He touched Elizabeth's belly affectionately and she covered his hand with hers, "I think that my path is to build things."
Elizabeth looked into Ben's eyes and smiled at him.
"I think that you should do whatever God is leading you to do. These hands," she lifted his hands in hers and kissed them, "are blessed in so many ways. You told me to have faith and trust that my family would be safe on their journey here. Now it is your turn to have faith and know that the Lord will lead you along the right path. He led us here, so keep following. He will put you in the right place."
****
Dear Diary,
I think I may be beginning to understand the warnings of the other mothers about the heat setting in during the last weeks of pregnancy. The temperature seemed to jump up overnight and now I cannot seem to find relief. I would never admit this to anyone but you, but I actually waited until Ben had gone to bed and then sat in a bathtub of cold water a few nights ago just trying to cool off enough so that I could get some sleep.
Can you imagine how silly I must have looked sitting there, my belly so round it was actually sticking up out of the water? I am so glad that Ben did not catch me. I know I would never hear the end of his teasing.
He seems at such peace since we talked about his decision to stop mining so that he could pursue woodworking for a living. He has not actually done it yet. He still gets up nearly as early as I do, sometimes even earlier now that I have been needing more sleep because of the baby, and heads to the creek. After mining all morning, he comes back home and works on the extra room until lunchtime.
James and Andrew come in the afternoon and they continue to work until there is no more light to work by, and then Ben comes in and disappears into his little lean-to shed to work on what he calls his "projects." I do not know what he is working on out there, and I do not ask. As much as he does for me, the baby, and my family, he deserves something that is just for him. I worry that he may be working himself too hard, though. It seems he almost never sleeps and he has been taking more of his meals out near the extra room so that he can get as much time in working as he can.
I have been wanting to do something for him and I have finally settled on the perfect opportunity. His birthday is coming up in a few days, and I am planning on cooking his favorite dinner and baking him a cake. I sewed him a few new shirts, a pair
of pants, and some gloves to wear while he is working since his old ones have worn out so with all of the work he has been doing. I hope that he will at least take a little bit of time off to enjoy his party.
As I plan his party I cannot help but dream about this time one year from now. I will not just be planning to celebrate my husband's birthday, but my child's first birthday as well. It is an amazing thought.
Ben is so excited about the baby. He is still convinced that it is a little girl, and I will admit that I am beginning to believe him. I know there is no real way for him, or for me, to know, but it is almost as if he has some connection to the baby that tells him that he is expecting a daughter. I had found myself referring to it as "she" recently, and even coming up with names for her. I know that Ben would not be disappointed with a son as long as he was healthy, but I think it would be an adjustment for him.
My family should be here very soon and I cannot wait. Maybe my mother will have advice for how to stay cooler. They still do not know about the baby. By the time they responded to the letter I wrote them before Christmas and I sent them another letter, they had already left Tennessee. The letter that tells them of their first grandchild is sitting in their empty home, and it seems that they are in for a truly fantastic surprise when they arrive here.
Elizabeth
****
"Happy birthday, Sweetheart!"
Elizabeth placed the cake in the middle of the table and Ben grinned up at her, his face shining with the glimmer from the candle that she had placed in the middle.
"Go on," James encouraged, "blow out that candle before all that wax gets on the delicious frosting your wife made."
The older man's gravelly voice reminded Elizabeth of her father and she smiled. Ben took a deep breath and blew out the candle, immediately reaching forward to pull it out of the cake. Elizabeth cut each of the men a big slice and distributed the plates.
Annie: A Bride For The Farmhand - A Clean Historical Western Romance (Stewart House Brides Book 3) Page 93
