“No man wants a woman who is over-educated,” Henry teased Cora when he found her seated at the kitchen table perusing through a newspaper. There was a small pile of other newspapers on the table. “You are already smart enough, Cora, if you get any smarter you will not find a suitable mate.”
“Speak for yourself, dear brother,” she said without looking up. “If you like dumb women whose only joy is primping and preening themselves before mirrors and running around agitating themselves about the latest fashions and styles then that is you. I believe that out there is a man who will appreciate all the knowledge I am gathering. Besides, I can best every woman you know, well except of course Ma, in cooking, sewing, keeping a home and looking after a family. And now I am adding knowledge to it.”
Henry threw his head back and laughed out loudly. Cora smiled fondly at her nineteen-year-old brother who always seemed to be much older than he was because of the way he carried himself. He was tall and his slenderness fooled people into thinking that he was weak. Henry could down a bull by himself, a skill he had learned from his grandfather. “You just need courage and a sure foot and the rest is easy,” the old man used to tell him. He loved farming on the family farm and was hopeful of one day having his own farm where he could keep steers for their beef. He had a dream that one day he would be able to supply beef not only to customers in Akron and possibly Cleveland, but even as far West as he could go.
He spent many days talking about the possibilities that lay in the Wild West with Michael and they had decided that when he turned twenty-one they would bid their family farewell and head west to seek their fortune.
He ran a hand through his light brown hair that seemed to sparkle in the late afternoon sunshine, his green eyes, which were similar to Cora’s, twinkling. Cora looked at her brother and felt proud. Indeed when she was not angry at both of them, she believed that her brothers were the most handsome men that she had ever seen, apart from her father but he lay in another league altogether.
“Henry?”
“Yes, Cora?”
“Do you ever think about what lies beyond here?” She looked at him curiously. “I mean, is this life in Akron all we have to look forward to in the future?”
Once again Henry threw his head back and laughed. “This is one crazy family I tell you,” he said.
“Why would you say that?”
“It seems as though the water that we all drink is contaminated with a wander bug. Why, just the other day I heard Ma and Pa talking about the Wild West.”
“You know the old folks, they always have so much to discuss. It does not necessarily mean anything.”
Henry shook his head, joining his sister at the kitchen table. Their mother and father had gone to Cleveland to get some supplies and Michael had accompanied them. It was a Friday afternoon and Henry had come in from the farm. “From the way they were going about it I got the impression that their interest was not just the normal curiosity that Easterners had to the West. It was as though they were trying to make up their minds about something.”
“Ah well,” Cora sighed. “Should anything come out of their discussion we shall get to know of it in due course.”
“And why would you be interested in the Wild West, Cora? I thought you were aspiring to be an author. There are no prospects for authors in the Big Sky Country,” Henry teased. “Or perhaps you wish to run away from home and become a mail-order bride to some rich miner in the West?”
Cora looked at her brother, an incredulous look on her face. “Are you crazy? I am adventurous yes, but not to that extent. Besides, I would like to get to know a man better before I can commit to marrying him. If the man is hundreds of miles away and I am here in Akron how would I ever know if he is a good man or not?”
“I was just teasing you, little sister, do not get yourself in a tiff. And like I was telling you, no man wants an overly educated woman, least of all those uneducated miners in the West.”
“That is what you think,” she challenged. “I can bet you that there are a number of well-educated men who have gone East in search of better prospects. Sometimes I even feel that Akron is too crowded and wish that more people would leave to make room.”
“Now I know that I have a crazy woman for a sister.”
“Why? Because I am for the idea of people leaving their comfortable lives for adventure?’
“This is where I stop,” he stood up. “I need to check on the animals.” He ruffled her hair and she squealed at him.
“Stop messing around with my hair.”
“What hair?” He ruffled it again. “You are unlike all the other genteel woman that I know, Cora, insisting on cutting your hair when you should be filling your head with ribbons and bows. And stealing my breeches and downsizing them to fit you.”
Cora grinned at her brother, flushing to the roots at his words, guilty as charged. “Well, Ma will not buy me breeches so what would you have me do? I cannot ride astride in a frock, Henry, that is very inappropriate.”
“Which is another bone of contention. Why must you try to imitate being a boy when you are a very beautiful woman? Be satisfied with your lot and be as ladylike as you possibly can because men will soon be beating a path to come and ask Pa for your hand in marriage.”
Cora snorted. “Fat chance of that happening when you and Michael will not give me the time of day in as far as meeting suitable men goes. Now every man in Akron knows that Cora Richards is untouchable because of her bullies of brothers.” She put a hand to her chin and sighed. “Just be prepared to look after me your whole life when I end up as an old maid, troubling you and your wife to no end.”
Henry knew this was his cue to leave the house before he and Cora got into an argument which could go on and on.
Cora sighed when her brother had left. She flipped the page and then something caught her eye and she frowned. “What a coincidence,” she thought. Right in front of her eyes was a whole page of advertisements for mail-order brides. “Well I never,” she muttered as she read through the ten or so adverts. “Some of these men do not want wives, they want mules to work and bear as many children for them as possible. What woman in her right mind would want that kind of a life?” She perused through the adverts, laughing at some of them while frowning at others. She shook her head. “Mail-order bride indeed,” she put that newspaper to one side and reached for another.
Cora could afford to laze around at the kitchen table because the family’s supper was bubbling merrily on the large stove, and she had everything ready for their return. In all the newspapers she saw various adverts for mail-order brides and none of them impressed her at all. “Now Henry has gone filling my head with madness and then even among this list I cannot find a decent man who would make a suitable husband,” she grumbled. And then she saw it and read through it three times.
“A thirty-year-old Christian man in Last Chance seeks his bride. 5’9”, trim, brown hair and brown eyes. I am a hard worker and promise to be a good provider for my bride and children when The Good Lord blesses us with offspring. Hoping to find the right woman who will not only be a wife, but will be my equal partner in every way.”
Cora smiled at last. “Now this is a good possibility,” she mused, not even certain herself as to what separated this man from all of the others. Perhaps it was his desire for an equal partner ‘in every way’? Or perhaps this was the whisper of God that her ma was always talking about. “This sounds like a man who is not just interested in a woman to breed for him, but someone to work alongside him. I wonder what line of work he is in,” she pondered. The man had not indicated his trade and she thought he was probably a farmer or a miner.
Long after the Richards household had settled down for the night, Cora lay awake in the darkness. She had put out the lamp because she did not want her mother coming to check on her. Thoughts were swirling in her mind as she went over the man’s advert over and over again. She had crammed it and his address as well because she knew that if she removed even one page from the newspapers her mother was bound to notice. The woman had the eye of an eagle!
Immediately Cora had mastered the address she had written it in the small journal that she kept hidden from her brothers and parents. Mr. Louis Albert, she repeated the name silently. “What kind of a man are you?” she wondered, sitting up in the darkness. “You sound like a good man, how do I know that you are not just like the rest of the men whose adverts I have read through?” Well, there was only one way to find out. She would write to Mr. Albert – no, if she was to think of herself as his wife, than she should be able to call him by his given name, at least in her own mind—Louis in Last Chance and ask him questions which if he answered appropriately would make her know what she should do next.
Even as she lay down after coming to the decision she suddenly remembered something and quickly sat up again. “How do I write to him without my parents and brothers finding out?” They were bound to find out when the mail came in because for the most part it was her father who handled matters relating to the post office and twice a week would check to see if they had any mail.. She was lost in thought with no answer and with a sigh gave herself up to sleep.
The next day was quite busy for Cora but she could not get thoughts Louis out of her mind. She had to find a way of communicating with him without arousing anyone’s suspicions. She knew her family would interfere as they always did and she had to find a way. A solution presented itself late that afternoon when her mother sent her to deliver bread and cakes to an elderly widow who lived down the road from them.
“Cora,” Mrs. Rachel Summers hailed the young lady gladly. “You and your mother are such angels to me,” the eighty year old woman said. “Were it not for you I would be long dead.”
“Mrs. Summers, you quite exaggerate. You are a strong woman who will live many more years and have always looked after yourself.”
“That is true, but it is the loneliness that would eventually kill me if you did not visit me as often as you do,” Rachel said sadly. She had only been thirty-six years old when she lost her husband in the War of 1812 against the British. Butch Summers had left her with three young daughters, both of whom were now grown up and married away from home. They could not visit their mother often because they lived well out of Akron. They made it home once a year for Thanksgiving, the snow usually making Christmas travel a trial.
Rachel and her husband had lived in Cincinnati for the sixteen years of their marriage.
“I like coming out here, Mrs. Summers, you are a very interesting person to be with,” Cora said truthfully.
Rachel Summers might have been eighty years old, but her mind was as sharp as ever. After her husband’s death she had refused to remarry, choosing to go to work at the docks in Cincinnati where she made a good living for her daughters and herself. Once her daughters were grown and gone, she had decided to sell the property they owned, and taking the proceeds from the sale of the house and her savings over the years, Rachel Summers had moved to Akron and bought a small three bedroom house sitting on ten acres of land. She had tried her hand at farming, and though she did not bring in much, it was enough for her and Mable, the freed slave who kept house for Rachel.
Mable, her housekeeper, did whatever asked of her with neither complaint nor unnecessary conversation, which suited Rachel just fine as she disliked small talk and didn’t want to alarm her servant by forcing it. Mable was a colored woman who had fled to the North from the cotton fields of South Carolina through the Underground Railroad, and though Rachel treated her as a freed servant, Mable still found it difficult to trust Whitefolks and would rarely share stories.
“It is always nice to have you with me,” Rachel agreed. “What shall we talk about today, dear Cora?” Rachel loved the young woman who visited her three times a week just to chat. Cora was a very curious girl and Rachel was happy to impart knowledge to her.
“What do you know about the Wild West, Mrs. Summers?”
Rachel smiled. The Wild West was her favorite topic. “Cora, if I was just twenty years younger I would go West in search of a new life.”
Cora’s eyes lit up. “Really? Why is that?”
Rachel laughed briefly. “Come child, let us sit on the porch. Summer is soon ending and we will have fewer days to enjoy the pleasant weather,” she said. “Mable,” she called out to her housekeeper and the woman came out, smiling at Cora.
“Why, Miss Cora, is it Saturday already?”
“Mable, you are such a tease,” Cora insisted on hugging the buxom lady who had long given up trying to resist the girl’s affections. Apart from Cora, only Rachel’s three daughters were allowed by Mable to hug her. “Of course it is Saturday, I know you are busy ironing your Sunday best frock.”
“You know me too well child,” Mable smiled fondly at her. She turned to her mistress. “Mrs. Summers, you called for me?”
“Yes, Mable, you see Cora and her mother have once again brought us bread and cakes.”
“Thank you, Miss Cora, and be sure to pass my regards to your ma when you go back home.”
“I will do that, and just so you know, Ma also sent you both her greetings and love.”
Mable served them with cold lemonade and Cora sighed. “How do you keep your drinks so chilled, Mrs. Summers?” she asked, as she did every time Mable served up a cold drink.
“And then it would not be a secret anymore,” Rachel laughed. “But one of these fine days I will tell you the secret and then you can begin your own business selling chilled lemonade and orangeade at the church. Meanwhile, let me have my spot in the sunshine okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Summers,” Cora agreed. She knew eventually Rachel would give her the secret and she was contented to wait. “You were telling me about the Wild West.”
“Yes child,” Rachel took a long sip of her drink. “That is God’s country and I hear it is one of the most beautiful places on earth.”
“Have you been to many places on earth, Mrs. Summers?”
The older woman shook her head. “I did not have the privilege of doing so, but my Butch was a man of the sea. He travelled far and wide and he always told me wonderful stories of the places he had visited.” She sighed sadly. “I know in my heart that had my Butch lived we would have gone West a long time ago. He was quite an adventurer.”
Cora did not know what to say in the face of her companion’s nostalgia and so she kept silent.
Rachel laughed. “Forgive me child for sounding so melancholic and yet there is so much to rejoice about. Now, about the West,” Rachel held out her hands. She had a flair for the dramatic and Cora knew that in her youth Rachel had been a very beautiful woman indeed. “That is a place that is full of gold and silver and the land there is rich and fertile, Cora, great opportunities lie in the West and I am just sorry for the younger generation who are just contented to live mediocre and complacent lives just because they cannot take risks. If you ever get the chance to go West, Cora, I tell you take it, embrace the chance with both hands and just go.”
“Mrs. Summers, according to what many people say the place is very hard to live in.”
“Which place isn’t, Cora? The pioneers who came on the Mayflower to found America were simple folk like you and me, and had they baulked at the chance to explore and live in a new land I do not know what their legacies would have been. As it is, they risked all and left all behind to begin a new life over the seas. The West is just over the land and besides it is now opening up with the transcontinental railroad going through the whole country. Take a chance and live. You only live once, Cora, live the best you can so that when the final trumpet sounds for you there will be no regrets about your life.” Rachel sighed. “Can you imagine facing God the Great Judge and when He asks you what you did with your life all you can tell him is that you were a good wife and mother and settled in one place, in Akron all your life?” She shook her head. “Think of all the lost opportunities and chances and how disappointed you will be when you realize that you could have done so much more with your life but were afraid to do so.”
Cora could hardly breathe. Here was a woman who was encouraging her on a quest that she had only thought of as a dream.
“You make it sound so simple, Mrs. Summers, I wish I could go West but I am only a girl.”
Rachel smiled. “You have the best opportunity yet, Cora,” Rachel reached forward and touched her arm lightly. “From long ago days men have always sought wives and when the pioneers settled in America, they sent home for women to come and join them in nation founding. It is no different in the West. I know that a number of men seek wives over there hence the mail-order brides who are becoming very popular. Why not try your hand and see what happens? After all you could always refuse to go if you do not like any of the men you correspond with, but how will you ever know if you do not try?”
Cora almost fell off her chair. “Mrs. Summers, do you know just how livid my parents would be, not to mention my brothers should they hear that I am thinking of becoming a mail-order bride?”
“You do not have to tell them, okay not initially. But why don’t you write to some of the men who advertise and see what happens. Should any of them become a suitable match, I am sure your parents will not be wholly averse to the idea. Trust yourself and your instincts, Cora, and choose to live.”
“That is well said, Mrs. Summers, but how do I correspond in secret and yet my pa is the one who always gets the mail for us? He would be definitely suspicious if he saw any mail for me from the West and much as he and Ma respect my privacy and would not open the mail, I know that I would be in for questioning that would wear me out.”
“In that case then you are free to use my postal address, Cora. Apart from the letters I get from my daughters once in a while, it lies practically unused. In that way you can also save Mable a trip down to the post office. Her feet are giving her a lot of problems and if you took charge of my postal box you could bring me mail whenever it comes and also, you can then get your own mail without anyone being the wiser.”
***
Louis was so excited he could not sleep. He had received a letter from a Miss Cora Richards in Akron, Ohio and he felt deep in his heart that she was the one. The woman that he had been praying for.
Ever since he had heeded his pastor’s advice and placed an advert in the newspapers back East, he had received a number of responses but none of them appealed to him. Most of the women who wrote back to him sounded as though their desire to come West was to find rich suitors and settle down to a bourgeois kind of life which he was unable to provide. Others were not as well educated as he would have desired because he believed that once he struck gold he and his wife would change the society and what better way to do it than with great knowledge of whatever was happening in the world around them. And yet others did not sound like they shared his faith in Jesus Christ. One thing Louis had promised his mother was that he would only marry a woman whose faith matched his own.
“How can two walk together unless they be agreed?” His mother had told him over and over again. “Louis, you have to really be careful about being unequally yoked with an unbeliever. She may be beautiful and smart but if her heart is devoid of the love of God then you might as well make a home with a sow.”
Now finally after two months of waiting and hoping he had received a letter that made his heart beat faster. He tucked it deep into his pockets and went about sifting through the river bank for gold, a big smile on his face. He had his small pick axe in his hand and his pan, the most important tools of trade for placer miners of who he was one. Placer mining was the most common form of mining for small time prospectors such as Louis because it really was the simplest method of getting gold.
All a miner needed was a pan, a pick axe and a good set of eyes and he was in business. He would dig up the sand and gravel from a stream with his axe, and then use his pan to wash the mixture. Washing would help separate the bits of gold nuggets and gold dust and as Louis knelt beside the stream he felt that his hope had been renewed. When he weighed out the amount of gold that he had collected that day it was almost double what he had ever collected in his two years of mining and he felt that it was a sign that this woman called Cora Richards was his God-sent bride-to-be.
Louis lived frugally and even the heavy coins jingling in his pockets after selling his gold did not make him splurge like his compatriots were wont to. He had bigger dreams and wasting his money was not one of them. As he walked to his boarding house, he made up his mind to pay his rent for the next four weeks, he could well afford to, and the remainder of the money he would re-invest in his prospecting by purchasing better tools that would enable him seek his fortune in the abandoned mines that lay strewn all over Last Chance. He knew it was very risky but he was tired of panning gold at the streams, women and children in plenty filled the place and he felt that he could hit it big if he went into the caves and mines. A number of people that he knew had done just that and had emerged richer than could be imagined. True, a number had also perished in the mines but he was optimistic that he was one of the blessed and lucky ones who would emerge a winner against nature.
As he lay on his bed fingering the letter that he had received that morning, his thoughts wandered. He needed to be properly attired for his excursion into the mines as his normal clothes would not do. He would need long warm drawers and undershirts made of wool to keep the cold at bay. Temperatures in the mines tended to drop to the freezing point. He would also need strong shoes and a good source of light that would enable him go deep into the mines where others feared to venture. Louis knew that he was fearless when it came to exploring but he would need good light to enable him work. He needed a shovel, a larger pick axe and a knife, items that could only be bought with good money and he had sufficient to cater for whatever he required.
He turned over in his bed, glad that he had been able to spare some little money for the delicious meal that his landlady served as dinner for a dollar. Today he had paid her the dollar for his supper, a great luxury indeed.
There was an old miner who often had used tools that he sold at a good price. Reuben Smith often purchased the tools from miners who had either struck it rich and decided to move away, or those who had given up hope and just needed some money to get them away from Last Chance. Some tools, however, he got free of charge when some of the miners, despairing of their deplorable conditions and having lost all their fortunes committed suicide.
Reuben Smith was also fondly named the Undertaker as he was not averse to burying the many corpses of the unfortunate men, women and children who died of exhaustion, pneumonia or dysentery and cholera. No one else was willing to do it but Reuben gave them a final decent send off.
“At least in death let them have the dignity that eluded them in life,” he would say as he buried yet another corpse.
Reuben would know exactly what he needed and with this thought Louis turned back to the letter in his hands. Naomi Willows thoughtfully provided a small lantern for all her tenants but it was up to each to fuel them. Louis had bought enough fuel to enable him to read and re-read the letter over and over again.
“Dear Mr. Louis Albert,
My name is Cora Richards and I am seventeen years old. I saw your advert in the Cleveland Daily and have decided to write to you with hopes that you and I can begin a correspondence to get to know each other.
I am a Christian, which I know is an important prerequisite for you since that was one of the first things that you mentioned about yourself in your advert. Besides being a Christian from a strong family, I can also cook very well, having been taught by my mother from when I could lift a pan and hold a ladle in my hand. I also sew and embroider so you can be sure that your house would be a comfortable place for you to come home to when you are done with your day’s labors.
With all of that being said, I also wish you to know that I am educated, my ma and pa made sure of that, and I have dreams and aspirations of becoming a children’s author, writing story books and illustrating them with my own pictures. Just so you know that I am not just blowing empty air, I have drawn a picture of my parents’ home here in Akron, Ohio.
Should we carry on our correspondence, I will be quite happy to show you more of what I am working on. Sometimes it is easier to express ones deeper emotions through stories and drawings, do you not think?
I would be most honored to hear back from you, and I hope that my forwardness has not put you off. My dear friend Mrs. Rachel Summers helped me pen this first letter to you and she advised me to always be truthful to you. She says that if you are indeed the man that she feels you are, then you are a man who treasures honesty and truth and that is what I will give you should we continue our correspondence.
With Christ’s love and waiting for your reply in anticipation,
Cora Richards.”
Much as Louis was tempted to rise up from his bed and pen a response to this delightful sounding woman he knew it would have to wait until the morrow when he obtained better writing materials from the general store. He had some paper but it was rough, not suitable for this lady at all.
When Louis responded to Cora’s first letter, it opened a channel of communication that brought out the real and deep feelings of each of them. They poured out their hearts and desires to each other, and Cora felt a deep bond of connection with the man that she had not met as yet. Louis was very easy to write to.
In the sixth month of their correspondence Louis began mentioning that he wanted to send money so that Cora could come West and they could get married. Cora showed the letter to Rachel who smiled at her.
“This is a good man, dear child, you can feel it in the letters that he writes, and I doubt that any conniving man would share as much as he has. And I like his honesty about not being wealthy in the things of the world but having a wealth in the things of God. A man who was pretending would just let you believe that he was rich and able, not this young man. Are you ready to settle down with a man whose means are limited and yet you are quite used to a few comforts in life, Cora?”
The young lady nodded. “Just writing to Louis makes me feel like my world is complete. He does not flatter but he praises. I sent him some preliminary drawings from a book I am illustrating, and he gave me some wonderful ideas to include in my work, Mrs. Summers. He does not sound condescending even while pointing out things he thinks would be better. He seems pleased that I have a good education and knowledge, something my brother Henry thinks would put men off.”
“I am sure your brother was speaking in jest because as this country continues to grow and expand, there is room for educated women who are also mothers and wives. Believe me, Cora, and mark my words, when the time comes for your brother to marry I am sure that he will choose a woman who is quite knowledgeable and not just an airhead full of flighty fancies. Your own mother is one of those women whose ideas belong to the next century which is evident in the high regard that people in Akron hold your father. Behind every successful man lies a strong woman who is his partner.”
“That sounds like something Louis would say,” Cora said, clutching the letter that she had just received. “He is talking of sending my fare in another three months or so.”
“Will you go should the fare come?”
Cora sighed. “I am torn, Mrs. Summers. I love my family so much and being parted from them would cause me a lot of sorrow, but I am also falling in love with Louis and I know he can make me happy.” She put her hands on her head, quite frustrated. “I wish there was a way that I could have both my family and Louis with me.”
“And why shouldn’t you?”
“Mrs. Summers, Louis would never leave Last Chance to come to Akron.”
“Then have your family move to Last Chance, child.” Cora looked at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head. “And do not look at me like I am speaking something that cannot be achieved. You told me that your parents have been discussing the Wild West for a while and your papa seems restless. Why not suggest a move for them?”
“Really, Mrs. Summers, my parents would probably have a fit if I so much as mentioned something like that to them.”
“Cora you are beginning to disappoint me,” Rachel wagged a finger at her young friend. “You need to believe in the impossible and suggest the issue to your parents. You may just be surprised that they will warm up to the idea. But you need to use wisdom and tact,” Rachel sat with her hands under her chin, staring outside. Winter was coming to an end and there was the rare sunshine but the two women were in the sitting room where a fire was burning merrily in the fireplace. They were enjoying a cup of tea and fruit pie that Cora had brought from home. “Leave your mother to me,” Rachel said. “I know what will get Mary moving and believe me when Mary Richards decides to move, Walter Richards and the rest will fall in line nicely, just leave her to me.”
“What can you do, Mrs. Summers? Ma is a tough nut to crack.”
“Not as tough as this old bird,” Rachel grinned. “Tell your ma that I need to speak with her because I would like her advice on a delicate matter.”
Rachel’s ploy seemed to work because the next thing that Cora knew, her mother was buying newspapers that were full of news from the Wild West and the dinner discussions centered on the Big Sky Country.
Walter Richards looked on in amusement as always as his wife and children argued over the best place to live in the West. For a long time he had felt restless and had discussed the issue with his wife. While both of them were in agreement that their life in Akron, Ohio was sound and good, they all needed something more.
“Think, Ma,” Michael said. “Between the three of us we can get four hundred and eighty acres of land, and when Henry turns twenty one he can also get his own lot of one hundred and sixty acres. How wonderful is that ma?”
“Having land is one thing, farming it is another,” his mother said. “Are you willing to break your back working so that the farm can produce as much as it can?”
“What have we been doing all our lives, Ma?” Henry demanded. “We work from sunrise to sunset on the land and you will admit that ours is one of the best farms in Akron.”
“I do not disagree, but Henry, fifty acres versus four hundred and eighty acres. That is a mighty huge difference.”
“The better, Ma,” Cora put in. “That means the land will never get exhausted and we can grow anything we put our hands to, as well as keep as many animals as we want to since there is room for them out there.”
Walter looked at his daughter, a twinkle in his eye. “Cora, even you?” He shook his head. “I would think you are so comfortable around here with all the latest fashions and lifestyle. Are you sure you can make it work on a farm out in the wilderness?’
“Pa,” Cora protested. “I work just as hard as Henry and Michael and I know that I can survive, as long as we are all together things will be alright. Besides, who knows, we may just get one of those farms which has caves in which a vast amount of gold is to be found, think how rich we could be, Ma,” she turned to her mother. “When we are not farming we can try our hand at gold mining, or else if we feel that we are too weak to mine we can grow enough food to sell to the prospectors. Either way it is a winning situation for us.”
That night as Mary Richards lay listening to her husband’s deep breathing she smiled in the darkness. She had longed to move West for a long time but had always feared that her children and husband would not accept the idea. She had shared her wishes with Rachel Summers who was a very wise woman.
“Mary, a woman steers a home and if you really feel that this is God’s calling for you and your family then I suggest you find a way to get them to share your vision and dream.”
“Rachel, it is my deep desire and I have been praying for a long time. Imagine my joy when my husband began telling me that he is feeling suffocated here in Akron and needs to break out. But going West is another matter altogether.”
“Why?”
“My husband and boys would not agree, not to mention Cora who is set to find herself a suitor and settle down here. I feel as though this can break my family apart.”
Rachel smiled at her friend. “I was married for only sixteen years, Mary, but there is something that I learned from my own husband and my father and brothers.”
“What is that?”
“Men always like to believe that they have come up with an idea, and anything short of that will be met with much resistance. Do you understand what I am telling you?” Mary nodded. “The only sure way to get your men to agree to what you want is to seem as opposed to it as much as you possibly can. Let them feel that they have convinced you into going West. Cora is not a problem. Being a young lady she will not want to be separated from her family and so will meekly follow after you.”
“Do you really think this would work?”
“Try it and see,” Rachel had advised. “Bring the topic up as though you are just making a comment and let the three men grab it and convince you that it is the best thing to do. Point out subtly all the benefits of going West and get their attention, and then use your wisdom to gently retreat and let them advance your cause for you.”
Now as Mary lay beside her husband she laughed softly to herself. Rachel Summers had given her precious advice that had worked like gold. Her husband and sons had grabbed onto the idea and were doing their best to convince her of the merits and benefits of moving West, just like Rachel had predicted.
Mary turned over, careful not to disturb her husband. She had been reading articles from newspapers about the Wild West and one particular article had boasted about the gold country that was ‘heaven on earth.’ All a person needed was courage, wits and the desire to grow rich and once they went out West they could make their dreams come true.
Much as her family was well off among the families in Akron, Mary still felt like they had been placed in a class from which they could not rise. Rachel had told her that out in the West there was nothing like a class system and all men were equal. No one lifted their noses at others who they felt were beneath their station because everyone worked hard to make a good life for themselves.
And besides, she as Mary Richards nee Alexander could own her own piece of land, all one hundred and sixty acres of it. The West empowered women like never before. With such power and authority it would not be long before women in the West began voting and Mary was a great advocate of Women’s Suffrage and for a long time watched in quite frustration as men tended to domineer politics.
“If only men would realize that God created women to be their help meets and not servants to be trampled underfoot in all matters then our government would be run much better than it is,” she had told her husband on one occasion.
To which he had replied, “Dear wife of mine and mother to my children, you should seek election because you love politics so much.”
“Walter Richards, that is a mighty fine thing to say, unfortunately with the government being as it is I would probably end up in jail after beating up some of those stuffed up congressmen who do not believe that women have it in them to effectively bring good change to this country.”
Mary knew the war was almost won and she would be relentless in her pursuit. The only question was, where would they go? The Wild West was vast and they needed to go to a place where they could begin again and prosper. Then she smiled. No problem there, Rachel Summers was quite knowledgeable about the West and she would seek the elderly woman’s advice.