Is this the right thing to do? she asked herself, looking back to the information Dianne had gathered for her. The girl certainly had given this a great deal of thought. For someone who hated book learning, she’d done remarkably well at putting together the figures.
Taking up a pen and ink, Susannah added little notes to herself, additional items they needed that Prairie Traveler had not suggested. She thought of her children, trying hard to take into consideration what extra items they might require.
Morgan and Zane are happy to go, she mused. But of course, they would be. They had no desire to join in the war and they loved the stories told by those who’d been west to the wild lands beyond the state. They’ll need an extra pair of sturdy boots, no doubt. She wrote their names and added boots to the list.
Then there was Dianne. She frowned at the thought of her eldest daughter. She couldn’t even look at Dianne without seeing Ephraim dead in the street. It wasn’t really Dianne’s fault. As Trenton had said, decent folk should be able to walk the streets without armed escorts. Still, she had gone to the bank without protection and Ephraim might be alive now except for that one fact. Even Trenton—
Trenton.
She’d seen nothing of him at all that day. She needed to talk to him now that he’d had time to calm down. She needed to make him understand that she appreciated his desire to see justice done for his father, but she also needed him to realize it wouldn’t be had in violence.
Tucking her papers into her apron pocket, Susannah climbed the stairs to the boys’ shared room. She noted with satisfaction that each of the three beds had been made. She’d allow for nothing less and her boys knew the penalties for messiness.
Going to Trenton’s corner of the room, Susannah felt something akin to fear overcome her. She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and found it nearly empty. Going to his bed, she raised the covers on the side to peer under the frame. His rifle was gone—so, too, his revolver.
She dropped her hold on the covers and whirled around to sit down. “He’s gone.” She felt tears well up but refused to cry. How could he do this to us? How could he desert us when I told him what it would cost him?
Dianne peered into her cedar chest. She’d been storing household items here ever since her father and mother had given her the box on her thirteenth birthday. They’d said she was to save doilies and embroidered pieces of work for her own home some day, but Dianne had never worried overmuch about such things. She had received several pieces when Grandma Chadwick passed on, but they were more sweet reminders than useful household goods.
Taking Trent’s letter from her pocket, Dianne reached up to her dressing table and pulled down a dried flower. The pressed blossom was from her father’s funeral. Gently stroking the petals, she felt tears come to her eyes. Trent’s leaving and her father’s death … both were her fault. She placed the flower in the folds of Trent’s letter and tucked it deep into the chest. There was no time for mourning now. She had far too much work to do. Dianne was determined to make her mother as happy as possible, and if that meant working her fingers to the bone, then that was how it would be.
“I’ll drive oxen, cook and wash over a campfire, sleep on the ground—whatever it takes,” she murmured, packing her blouses atop her memory pieces. She added undergarments, stockings, and a pair of satin dancing shoes she’d worn the first time she’d danced with Sally’s brother Robbie.
“Whatever has to be done,” she told herself aloud, “I must have the strength to do. If I work hard enough—if I give more than the others, then maybe, just maybe, Mama will forgive me.”
“I’m so glad you stopped by before we left,” Dianne told her friends Ramona, Sally, and Ruthanne, who had come to bid her farewell. They’d also come bearing gifts.
“Mama said I could give you this,” Sally told Dianne. It was a small collection of Godey’s Lady’s Book magazines from 1859. “I know they’re out of date, but since the war, Ma’s had a hard time getting any kind of publication from back East.”
“Oh, Sally, that’s so sweet,” Dianne said as she leafed through the first one. “Why, it shows how to knit these sweet little stockings.”
“It has all sorts of wonderful stories and such too. There are fashion designs, patterns to crochet and embroider… . It even tells you how to set a proper table. You’ll be out there in the middle of the wilderness and … well, you might forget.”
Dianne laughed and closed the magazine. “Indeed, I might very well take to eating with my fingers.”
Sally frowned. “Don’t think me so ignorant that I would believe that of you.”
Dianne gently touched her friend’s arm. “I’m sorry. I truly wasn’t meaning to suggest that. I’m so very touched that you’d share these with me.” And honestly, she was touched. Sally lived for her copies of Godey’s. Many an afternoon had been spent at Sally’s, wiling away the hours poring through the pages.
“I brought you this,” Ramona said, handing Dianne a small metal box.
Dianne opened the box to reveal sheets of writing paper and envelopes. “Oh, Ramona, this is a treasure to be sure. I’ll write to all of you using this.” She glanced up to meet their gazes. “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to write, but just know that I will as time allows.”
They nodded somberly. Dianne felt an aching deep in her heart. What would she do without them to talk to? How would she ever abide the long, perilous trip across the plains without them to encourage her and bolster her spirits?
“This is from me,” Ruthanne said, pushing a small cloth bundle into Dianne’s hands.
Dianne unrolled the material to reveal a small wooden cross. “My pa carved it for me, but I told him you were leaving and that I wanted to give you something to remember me by. He said I could give this to you and he’d make me another one.”
Dianne smiled. “I’ll cherish it always.” She put her things aside and reached out to embrace the three girls. “I’ll miss you all more than I can say.” The awkward hug ended to reveal them all in tears.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Ramona said softly. “I’ll miss you so much.”
“You’ll miss Morgan just as much, I’ll wager,” Dianne said, trying to keep the situation from growing too maudlin. The girls giggled even as tears streamed down their faces.
“We’re a sorry lot,” Sally said, taking up a dainty handkerchief. “Just look at us. Our faces will be all red and splotchy.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dianne said. She studied the face of each girl, memorizing her features. How would she ever manage to say good-bye?
“I have some things for each of you,” Dianne continued, trying to regain her composure. “You know we can’t take many of our possessions, so I’m forced to leave them behind.” She went to her wardrobe and opened the doors. “I want you to share what’s left in here. The party gowns, the slippers, and such.”
The girls were instantly animated with oohs and aahs over the bounty. While they shared the wealth among them, Dianne went to her vanity and opened a drawer. “I also have a special gift for each of you.” She took up three small parcels wrapped in brown paper and brought them to her friends. “I wanted you to have something special to remember me by.”
Sally was first to reach for the gift. She opened it even as Ramona and Ruthanne took their packages in hand. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” She held up a necklace—a delicate gold chain with a small heart hanging from the end. Ramona and Ruthanne found exact replicas in their packages.
“This must have cost you a fortune,” Ruthanne exclaimed.
Dianne shook her head. “There are benefits to being a shopkeeper’s daughter.” She didn’t bother to tell them her mother had found the entire lot tucked inside a box of useless bits of bric-a-brac. Dianne had declared an interest and her mother had shrugged and tossed the entire collection to her. It seemed preordained, as there were three necklaces of the same style and gold color.
“Now you’ll each have something to remember
me by, and I shall have these little treasures from you. I feel like the richest girl in the world.”
“My father says your family is pert near the richest in these parts. If your pa hadn’t made friends with the Yankees, like mine did, we’d probably all be poor as church mice.”
Dianne knew that was most likely true. It was one of the reasons some people hated her family. They’d never understood her father’s desire to work with, instead of against, the Yankees. Truth be told, Dianne wasn’t at all sure she understood it either. She didn’t understand much at all about the war. She’d read about slavery issues and such, but among her own people, no one owned slaves. At least not anymore, and when her mother talked of the servants her family had owned when she was young, they always sounded like extended family rather than slaves.
There were a bevy of other issues, like state’s rights and taxation problems, but Dianne’s father had never spoken much about such things with his womenfolk, and Dianne had never had the mind for such matters. And now with the move west, she supposed she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Her uncle’s letters assured her there was very little focus on war issues in the Idaho Territory.
“Promise me you’ll never forget me,” Dianne said, turning to her friends once again.
“Of course we promise,” Ramona said, looking to each of her companions. “Don’t we, girls?”
“Of course,” they replied in unison.
Dianne nodded. “I know I shall never forget you for as long as I live. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again, but if I can have one wish, that is it. I wish for us to be together again—friends forever.”
The girls all clasped their hands together. “Friends forever,” they pledged.
CHAPTER 3
A BRILLIANT LEMON SUN PUSHED STEADILY ACROSS THE SKY, BRINGING spring warmth to the city of St. Louis. Susannah Chadwick hated St. Louis almost as much as she’d grown to despise New Madrid. The Yankees were in control here, and only yesterday she’d watched as they’d executed a Confederate soldier. There seemed to be no real trial or understanding of his punishment—just a systematic eradication of “vermin,” as the nearby Yankee commander had told her.
Seeing the townspeople around her, Susannah wondered if they’d grown callous to such happenings. No one seemed eager to protest or raise a single claim in the man’s defense. She was later told by the hotel owner that Confederates were executed almost daily—often led out of town on worn-out old horses and taunted to try and run for their freedom. The game was more cruel and heartless than Susannah could have ever imagined.
These images served their purpose, however. They solidified her resolve to leave the war and all its problems. She cared little for the plight of the black man. She cared nothing at all about the tariffs and political intrigues between the North and South. She wanted only for a chance to see her boys raised into men—to have them marry and produce families of their own. Dead men could do neither.
With all of these thoughts and images weighing heavy on her heart, Susannah cautiously slipped away from the hotel and made her way through the streets of St. Louis in order to finish her shopping. There were an amazing number of last-minute purchases to be made, especially in light of the news the doctor had given her yesterday. She was pregnant. The very thought startled, frustrated, and delighted her all at the same time. It was completely unexpected and almost more than she could comprehend. Betsy was six and Susannah had been confident there would be no more children for her and Ephraim. In fact, even in seeing the doctor she had been confident he would tell her it was merely her change of life. Which, although early, would have been appropriate, given all the other changes she was making.
This baby added an entirely new aspect to life. It gave her new strength and resolve. Ephraim was gone, she couldn’t change that, but a piece of him was growing anew within her. She would prove herself worthy of such responsibility. Susannah started her shopping knowing she would have to lay in a supply of white flannel and knitting materials for baby things. She’d have to see if she could buy a pattern or else find a ready-made gown that they could tear apart and trace. Susannah wasn’t all that clever with a needle, but she’d do what was needed.
She browsed the aisles of one store, still contemplating the reality of her pregnancy. She certainly couldn’t tell anyone. Daniel Keefer, the wagon master Dianne had signed them on with, would no doubt turn their application away should he learn of her condition. From what Dianne had showed her in a letter from Keefer, he was apprehensive enough about taking on a widowed mother, despite the fact she had three boys who could do the heavy work.
Of course, when Dianne had written the letter on her mother’s behalf, she had believed Trenton would change his mind about accompanying them west. Susannah hoped the issue of Trent’s absence wouldn’t come up until long after they began their journey. Just as she hoped the issue of her pregnancy wouldn’t come up until it was too late to turn her back.
Given that the baby wasn’t due until December, Susannah felt there was no need to inform Mr. Keefer. They were assured they would reach the Idaho Territory before August ended. That would give her plenty of time. By the time she started showing, they would be in the middle of the prairie wilderness. Surely then Mr. Keefer would just have to allow for it. Besides, women of proper upbringing simply didn’t discuss such matters with gentlemen. Mr. Keefer would just have to understand.
She toyed with some wool yarn dyed a pale yellow. The color pleased her senses, and she picked up several skeins and placed them in her basket. If any of the children asked, she’d just say that she intended to make a shawl.
That thought brought her to the idea of keeping the pregnancy from the children. She couldn’t very well tell them without risking their accidental announcement to other people. Betsy could never keep anything secret; in fact, she had told everyone she’d encountered that her family was headed to Virginia. This in turn prompted Susannah to explain they were heading for Virginia City, in the Idaho Territory, and not the warridden state of the Southern Confederacy.
Betsy’s excitement over their adventure west had no doubt filled her head with wild imaginings. She told people about Indians and about the dog they would have when the trip concluded. Most of the matrons laughed with amusement at the child, while men seemed to catch her animation and questioned Susannah about the gold possibilities and whether her brother had struck it rich.
“Can I help you with anything here?” a stern-faced older woman questioned.
The voice brought Susannah back into the present and she nodded. “I’d like to buy a bolt of white flannel. I’ll also take a bolt of the white cotton and two bolts of the brown wool.”
“You must be going to sew up a storm,” the woman commented.
“We’re heading west. I have a large inventory of goods and want to add this to it.” Susannah caught sight of several sunbonnets and motioned. “I think I’d better have a look at some of those. I was sold out and couldn’t get any more before coming to St. Louis.”
The woman quickly complied. “These are the best,” she told Susannah. “With the longer untrimmed brims you’ll keep more sun off your face and not have to worry about the edging going bad or getting torn. And with the bavolet, your neck won’t get burned. A lot of women forget about protecting their necks.”
Susannah looked the pieces over and nodded. “I’ll take these four. By the way, do you have anything that would fit younger girls? I have two daughters, six and ten, who would never be able to keep these on.”
“I do have some. Wait right here.” The woman disappeared into the back, and Susannah took the opportunity to continue her perusal. Nothing else struck her fancy, however. There were far too many trinkets designed for the happily settled homeowner. They would be nothing but burdensome for the long trip to Virginia City. Besides, as Bram had pointed out long ago, the territory was ninety-nine percent men. Of course, that had probably changed by now with the gold rush and all, but men would still outnumber th
e women, and men had no use for fancy doodads.
No, Dianne had been right. With men, food would matter more. Food and tools, even livestock, which was why Susannah was determined to focus her attention on those things more than others. They had one whole wagon loaded with mostly food—canned, bagged, and crated. Another wagon had tools—mining tools, farming tools—as well as heavy-duty clothing and boots. Wagon repair items, as well as spare harnesses and animal feed, topped off the freight. That left the third wagon for most of their personal things. How very small that wagon seemed once they’d loaded it with their belongings.
It’s a different life from what we’ve known, she mused. Returning to the counter to wait for the storekeeper, Susannah couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right choice. We truly know nothing about what we’re doing. We’re unprepared for even the everyday needs of travel—cooking, cleaning, doctoring. We’re worse off still when it comes to animals and their care.
“Here we are,” the woman announced. She held up two children’s bonnets—one a red calico and one a brown solid. “This one,” she said, thrusting the brown one forward, “should fit the younger girl just fine.”
Susannah looked the piece over, noting the quilted brim. “Fine work. I’ll take them both.”
She made arrangements for the boys to pick up the cloth and made her way back to the hotel with the bonnets. She and Daniel Keefer were to meet in the lobby in just five minutes; already the day was getting away from her.
Coming through the hotel doorway, Susannah immediately spotted two men sitting to one side. Both appeared neat and orderly. Their trousers showed no signs of dirt and their faces were clean-shaven, with exception to the older man’s mustache. They both rose as she neared. “Are one of you Mr. Keefer?” she questioned.
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