To Caroline, pulling doggedly on the handcart, each mile the caravan covered looked no different from the one before. The rise and fall of the sand hills had the elemental sameness of the broad ocean. Time could have been flowing backward and she would not have known the difference. Except for the frequent deaths.
On the fourteenth day out from Florence, the caravan had reached the junction of the Platte River with the North Platte. The Mormons veered to follow the North Platte. Within half a day they had entered a land of low, rolling sand hills, a desolate terrain of sparse grass and little live water. For seven days now they had fought the sand hills.
The wheels of the handcarts cut into the sandy soil and brought heartbreaking labor to the people. Mathias and Anton moved among the converts with encouraging words. They added their strength to help those most in need of assistance to mount the steep upgrades. Still, the weak began to die from exhaustion and the heat.
Hardly a day passed that someone did not fall upon the earth and not rise. Bad days saw two deaths. The company halted barely long enough to bury the dead in shallow graves.
Caroline no longer cried at the funerals. She had used up all her tears. Other people, she noted, had also grown numb to death and had ceased crying when it came.
Mathias had told the people the sand hills stretched for one hundred and fifty miles. Caroline feared for the converts that would die before the far boundary was finally reached.
A large dust devil whirled through the caravan, spinning up the sand and the old tattered grass of the past summer in a little storm. Caroline closed her eyes and stopped breathing until the rotating funnel had passed. Bending and twisting, the dust devil swept away over the prairie.
The day wore on, the yellow orb of the sun climbing to its zenith and walking slowly down along its ancient path in the sky. As the sun neared the horizon it threw its sharp, slanting rays to pierce the eyes of the Mormons like needles.
The night came fuming up from the eastern rim of the world. Nathan called a halt, and the creaking wheels of the handcarts ahead of Caroline stopped. She sagged across the cross bars.
The carts that trailed at the end of the column straggled up and gathered with the others. Caroline and Pauliina positioned their cart in the usual circular pattern and stepped from inside the cross bars. Ruth and Sophia came from the rear and they all stood silently catching their breath.
“Not one sign of water,” Caroline said. She stared out over the sand hills to the limits of her vision. There would be rationing of water and no chance to wash away the day’s sweat and dirt.
The night seemed to fall upon the tired travelers with unnatural swiftness. Caroline and Pauliina hurried at setting up the tent. Ruth and Sophia gathered buffalo chips for fuel. They built their evening cooking fire on the outside perimeter of the handcarts, where it was not so congested and there was only the smoke of their own fire to contend with.
The four prepared their simple meal of dried apples cooked with rice, fried bacon, and bread. They ate quickly and assembled with the others for the evening religious service.
Nathan told the people they had made fifteen miles that day, a great accomplishment in the sand. He spoke a short sermon of encouragement for the hard days still to come, led the people in song, and ended the ceremony.
Caroline rummaged through her possessions and found a piece of cloth. She wiped her face to remove the gritty rime of salt crystals left by the drying of her sweat. She badly wanted a bath.
But now that the sun was gone, there was a growing chill in the air. Caroline pulled on her coat and went to sit with the other three girls by the small fire of buffalo chips.
“It will freeze tonight,” Ruth said, buttoning her coat.
“That’s better than rain,” Caroline replied.
“Tell me, what is this freeze?” Pauliina asked.
As they had done for nearly every evening since the trek over the plains had begun, the three girls began to teach Pauliina the pronunciation and meaning of English words and phrases. The Swedish girl was quick to learn. Her laughter at mastering another piece of the foreign language brightened the days for the other girls. Pauliina was an enjoyable addition to the group. Never once had Caroline seen the girl angry, or difficult to get along with.
The flames died. The girls’ conversation ceased. They sat looking at the dying fire, a tiny red glow in the darkness. Then, one by one, they climbed to their feet and went off toward their tent.
Caroline remained by herself and stared into the darkness that lay dense on the awesome, lonely void of the prairie. There was no moon and the stars glittered like ice shards flung across the ebony sky. America was very different from crowded, rainy England. But different or not, here she would stay and make her home.
Mathias came through the ring of handcarts and approached the fire. “Good evening, Caroline,” he said.
“Hello, Mathias.”
“May I sit with you for a moment?”
“Certainly.” She watched his shadowy form sink wearily down on the opposite side of the glowing coals.
Mathias pulled up a handful of dry grass and tossed it onto the coals. The grass caught fire easily and bright yellow flames flared up.
“Was there something special you wanted to say to me?” Caroline asked. The conversations between them always had been about the business of the journey, or a short discourse on religion. Yet at times she had noticed him watching her. She felt that pleasure all women feel when handsome men look at them in that certain manner. Tonight his face seemed more than normally strained. He removed his hat and absently began to rotate it in his hands.
“Are you and the other girls all right?”
“Like the rest of the people, we’re tired and food is short. But we have no complaints.”
“I didn’t expect any complaints from you. In three days we’ll butcher another steer. Then everybody will have a few meals of fresh meat.”
“I saw some Indians at a distance today. They worry me. When do you think the men from Salt Lake City will arrive to protect us?”
“We are more than three hundred miles along the trail. I had hoped the men would have met us by now. The farther west we get, the more likely the danger from Indians. On the other hand, there should be less danger from an attack by white renegades.”
“Can we make it through if the men don’t come?”
“We must.” Mathias threw another handful of grass on the fire, and the flames leapt up, renewed. He looked intently at Caroline.
“Almost every man marries shortly after returning home from a mission. I think that I will also.”
Caroline was surprised at the sudden turn of the conversation. Why was he telling her this? “That should be nice for you,” she murmured.
Mathias turned his head and swept his eyes over the dark outlines of the handcarts and the blurred forms of the people sitting tiredly around the score of low-burning fires. “Once the people are safely in Salt Lake City and no longer my responsibility, then I shall ask a woman to be my wife.”
He looked at Caroline. “Until then I must wait. And also the woman I would ask must wait.”
Caroline thought Mathias’s face had become flushed, but in the ruddy yellow light of the fire she was not sure.
“Does that seem like a reasonable plan?” he asked.
“I suppose so.”
“Good.” Mathias climbed to his feet. “There are some sick people I must visit before it gets too late. I think one of them will die. Good night, Caroline.”
“Good night.” She thought the conversation had ended very abruptly.
Mathias moved away from the fire. His form became mingled with the murk of the night as he went back inside the circle of handcarts. Her heart was beating rapidly. Had she just been proposed to? What would her answer be if the direct question was put to her? Without doubt, he was a handsome man and intelligent and gentle.
Then the bone-chilling remembrance came to Caroline of her slaying Varick, the captain of the African Blackbird. Mathias had refused to kill the man when she so desperately needed protection.
There were many long days of travel ahead. She would have plenty of time to think about marriage and Mathias Rowley.
She felt the cold deepening. She pulled her coat around her and walked to the tent.
Ruth sat close to the single candle that lit the tent. She studied The Book of Mormon, holding it so that the feeble light fell upon the pages. She read from the religious book every night. Her head rose as Caroline entered.
“Ruth, are you sorry that you came on this journey with the Mormons?” Caroline asked.
“Oh, my, no. I’m sure they have the true religion. It gives me strength for the hard work of pulling the handcarts, and it will surely take us all to heaven. Don’t you think so too?”
Caroline did not answer the question. She wished she saw things as clearly and simply as Ruth did. “How does a man fit into your religion?”
“I can have both,” Ruth said. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled. She closed the book of Mormon.
“That’s the way to talk,” Sophia said with a chuckle from her blankets.
“Amen,” Pauliina said.
“I guess that says it all.” Caroline joined in the burst of laughter.
Removing only her shoes, she snuffed out the candle and wrapped herself in the blankets. So Mathias wanted to marry her—or at least that was her interpretation of his words. All in all, perhaps that was not a bad thought.
Sleep came to Caroline’s weary body within a handful of heartbeats.