CHAPTER 2

Amanda’s mouth fell open at her sister’s statement. “That has got to be the most—” She fluttered a hand in speechless futility. “I’m surprised that even you could say such a dumb thing!”

Sarah Jane flinched and lowered her gaze.

Amanda knew her younger sister considered her pessimistic and staid, a stick-in-the-mud person, one who rarely gave the girl credit for having a sensible thought in her little blond head. But with both Pa and Mama gone and no one else left to them in this world, the crushing weight of responsibility Amanda felt made it almost impossible to temper her words. It was high time Sarah started acting more like the young woman she was than the little girl she still wished to be.

“It isn’t dumb,” Sarah said evenly. “Surely you can see this town is not a fit place for two unchaperoned girls. We left Pennsylvania to begin a new life out west, didn’t we? Well, now that we’ve started in that direction, I think we should keep going.”

Amanda could scarcely breathe. She stared toward the parted curtain panels, where the glow from outside cast silver outlines on the roofs across the street and glazed the edges of the furniture in the hotel room. She released a despondent huff and flopped back down on her pillow. “I just don’t know. I truly don’t.”

Sarah, the contours of her slight body shrouded in blue-violet shadows and blankets, remained silent for a long moment as her tapered finger tapped the counterpane. “I picked some spring flowers today and took them out to Pa’s grave. And something inside of me made me start singing—you know how he always loved my singing.”

An inner smile struggled for release, but Amanda managed to contain it as her sister went on.

“Anyway, when my song was done, I asked him what we should do, where we should go. He always did give the best advice. And it came to me—as if Pa had said it himself—the wagon is bought and paid for. It has everything we need to go west just like we would have if he hadn’t passed on. The least we can do is to try to see that dream of his through. He would want us to. We owe it to him.”

Amanda didn’t respond for several moments as her sister’s preposterous notion warred in her mind. She gave a shaky sigh. “Know what really scares me?”

“Hm?”

“You could be right. I don’t see any other choice for us at the moment. No matter where we go, we’re going to be alone. We’ve got no one to go back to, and I sure don’t want to settle in a place like this, full of ruffians and drifters.” She paused again in deep thought. “If we did go west the way Pa wanted—and I’m not altogether sure we should, mind you—maybe it would feel like a part of him would be with us.” She paused. “We might just find a good new life for ourselves. Those new woodworking tools of his could provide the resources we need for a while. Maybe even enable us to open a shop of our own in Oregon.”

“What kind of shop?”

Unexpectedly, with the decision to go not actually settled yet, a feasible possibility came to mind. “If there’s one worthwhile thing Maddie managed to teach us, it was how to use a needle. Think about it. More flocks of people are heading west all the time. And they’ll all be in need of clothes. They’ll have their hands so full trying to clear land and build homes before the onset of winter there won’t be much time for less needful things, like sewing.”

“Yes!” A growing excitement colored Sarah’s breathless voice. “That’s a grand idea. Truly grand! And we wouldn’t have to wait to settle somewhere before we got started. We could buy some bolts of dry goods right here in Independence, then one of us could ride in back and sew bonnets and aprons and baby things while the other drove.”

“Maybe. It’s just a thought.” Amanda, feeling the first flickers of doubt after her initial enthusiasm, needed time to ponder the idea before making a definite commitment that would alter their lives forever. Then she tossed caution to the wind. “I’ll get in touch with the wagon master and make the arrangements to go with the train as planned.”

Sarah Jane’s teeth glistened like pearls in her wide grin, and Amanda couldn’t help wondering what sort of unpredictable hopes and dreams were taking shape in her sister’s imaginings. It would be one huge chore keeping the flighty girl in check during a long westward journey.

Nevertheless, in that brief instant, Amanda felt a tiny bit of Sarah’s optimism course through her being, accompanied by an uncharacteristic surge of adventure. Maybe for once in her life Sarah was actually right. Heading west would be far better than letting sadness and grief defeat them… and besides, if they really put their minds to it, perhaps they truly could make a good life out there. A small smile tugged at her lips as she relaxed and closed her eyes, sloughing off the guilt from not having sought God’s guidance in the matter.

Early the next morning, the crowing of the rooster out back awakened Amanda. The curtain of night had barely begun to lift, spreading a band of thin light outward from the eastern sky. She checked over her shoulder to see Sarah still in deep slumber. It was an opportune time to talk things over with the Lord.

Reaching for her flannel wrap, Amanda slipped her arms into it and tied the belt snugly, then knelt beside the bed. Dear heavenly Father, she prayed silently, desperately, I don’t really know what to pray. Nothing has happened the way we expected it to since we three came to Independence. And now with Pa gone, Sarah and I have nowhere to turn. We can’t go back to the home we used to know, and it’s a fact this town is not a fit place for us to settle. We’ve decided to see to Pa’s wish and go west.

She paused to gather her thoughts. In truth, I don’t know how we’ll manage this long journey alone, since neither of us is used to doing for ourselves. Back home we had Maddie to cook and keep things nice while we girls wiled away our time in what I admit now were frivolous pursuits. But we’re strong and healthy, and we can learn. I know that for certain. Please go with us on our way. Grant us wisdom and courage, and stay close to us in the weeks ahead.

When there were no words left inside, she rose and crawled back into the warm bed again for a few more minutes of sleep, thankful for the blankets that chased away the chill of the early hour. She would have liked to have more inner peace over her decision, but perhaps that would come in time. Pa always said a person’s steps were ordered by the Lord, and circumstances had all but forced this plan upon them. Surely it had to be God’s will. Determined, she pressed her lips together and closed her heavy eyelids as peace settled over her like a quilt of down.

A short time later, Amanda awoke again to full morning brightness. She dressed in her best navy worsted dress, confident that the tailored fit and fashionable sleeves made her look older than her twenty years. After twisting her long hair into a neat figure-eight coil at the nape of her neck, she added her Sunday bonnet, tying a stylish bow just beneath her chin.

“You look divine,” Sarah Jane gushed. “Ever so grown-up and important.”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself I feel important,” she confessed. “Let’s go have breakfast, and then I’ll try to locate the man Pa made the arrangements with.”

At Martha’s Eatery, a bustling restaurant popular with trail guides and mountain men alike, Seth Holloway shoved the empty plate away and leaned back in the chair, unfolding his cramped legs. He glanced across the table at rusty-haired Red Hanfield, his partner and longtime friend. “I had word that the O’Bradys pulled into town this morning. That’s the last family we’ve been waiting for. I’ll see they have all their supplies so we can head out day after tomorrow. You ride point with the first wagons this time, and I’ll follow along with the cow column.”

“Yep, just make sure you don’t ride last in line,” his wiry pal quipped. “Wastes a lot of time high-steppin’ them cow pies.” His coppery mustache twitched in barely suppressed humor.

“I get the picture,” Seth grated. Picking up his coffee mug, he drained the last bit in one gulp, then set it back down.

“Ready for a refill?” At his elbow, good-natured Martha Griffith, owner and chief cook, poured a fresh cup.

“I do thank you, ma’am,” Seth said, grinning up at her with admiration. No matter the time of day, the perky woman always sported a crisp, spotless apron over her calico dress, and the ruffle on her cap was always neatly starched over her salt-and-pepper bun. The two serving girls who worked for her were similarly attired. “You never let a man run dry.”

“No sense in it a’tall, when the pot’s always on! I like to make sure my regulars always come back.”

“As if anybody else in town cooks as good as you,” Red piped up.

Martha’s pink cheeks dimpled with a smile as she filled his cup also. “Mighty kind words for a busy woman. I knew there was a reason I always like to see you two comin’ in off the prairie.” With a cheery dip of her head, she continued making the rounds with the coffeepot.

Seth observed her efficient movements absently as he slowly drank the hot liquid, his mind recounting endless last-minute details that needed his attention before the wagon train departed Independence two days hence.

On the edge of his vision he noticed a dark-clad figure approaching the table he and his pal occupied. He looked up when the rather small, smartly dressed young woman stopped beside them. Her classic features were composed in a businesslike expression, but it was her eyes that drew his like a magnet. Large and luminous, an unmistakable sadness lurked within their clear green depths.

“I beg your pardon?” she said softly.

“Miss?”

“I’m looking for Mr. Holloway.”

They both rose at once. “That’s me,” Seth said, mentally noting some nicely rounded curves, neat, nearly auburn hair beneath a prim bonnet, a tempting but unsmiling mouth. “Seth Holloway. This is my partner, Red Hanfield. What might I do for you?” Noticing that her hands, gloved in white kid, trembled slightly despite her confident demeanor, he returned his gaze to her eyes, caught again by the cheerlessness accented by the fringe of long lashes.

She moistened her lips. “My name is Amanda Shelby. My father—”

Seth recognized the name at once. “Oh, of course. I heard of your unfortunate loss, Miss Shelby. You have my deepest sympathy. We’ll refund the fee he paid right away, if you’ll just let me know where to bring it.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Seth frowned in confusion. “We can’t keep—”

She regarded him steadily. “Well, you see, that’s why I’ve come. My sister and I will be leaving with the rest of the group, just as planned. So the registration money our father paid you is rightfully yours.”

Red Hanfield choked on the gulp of coffee he had just taken. One side of his mustache hiked upward in a comical expression of uncertainty as he sat back down.

Seth had trouble finding his own voice. Aware that patrons at the nearby tables were gawking at them, he finally managed to link a few words together. “Surely you’re joking, Miss Shelby.”

“No, I am quite serious. We will be ready to leave with the other wagons.”

Searching for just the right reply, Seth kneaded his jaw, then met her relentless gaze. “Look, miss. I don’t mean to be rude, but whatever your intentions were before you came here, you’re gonna have to forget them. There’s no way we can let you and your sister make the journey. In fact”—he reached for the inside pocket of his leather jacket and withdrew a thick packet, from which he pulled out several bank notes. He pressed them into her hand—“here. This is the cash your father paid for the trip. Take my advice and go back to wherever it is you came from.”

He could tell just by looking at her—rooted in that spot without a change in her countenance, other than the obvious set of her teeth—that his words had not dissuaded her one bit.

“I cannot take this,” she said flatly. Placing the funds intact on the table beside him, she held her ground. “My sister and I are quite set on this. We will be going west. Good day, Mr. Holloway. Mr. Hanfield.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the door.

Seth cast an incredulous look at Red, who made no effort to hide his amusement. Then he snatched up the bank notes and used them to punctuate his words in his friend’s face. “Thanks for backing me up, buddy!” With a huff of disgust, he started after Amanda Shelby.

He caught up with her three doors down, in front of the Bluebird Saloon, where raucous piano music from inside the swinging doors tinkled around them, creating an absurd carnival atmosphere for any intended serious conversation. Frowning, he tapped her shoulder.

She stopped and turned, and her eyes flared wider. Instantly, a soft vulnerability in her features disappeared behind a facade of purposeful determination. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who’d you expect?” he spat, instantly regretting his harsh tone. “Look, take the—” Conscious of the intense interest of a growing number of passersby, Seth knew better than to wag a handful of cash out in the open, and instead slid the bank notes back within the confines of his jacket pocket. Then he grabbed Amanda Shelby’s elbow, ignoring the mortification that glared at him from her narrowed eyes, and steered her to an unoccupied spot a short distance away. There he turned her to face himself. “Please, Miss Shelby. I’ve been called blunt at times and have probably hurt a few feelings in my day, so if I’m hurting yours I’m sorry. But you don’t seem to understand. The journey west is grueling, even for tough, experienced folks, and some of the hardiest souls won’t survive it, let alone a couple of gals like you and your sister.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Do you know how to shoot?”

“No, but—”

“Can you change a wheel? The trail rattles the best wagon to shambles.”

“No.”

“How about repairing a harness?”

The last thing he was prepared for was the sheen of tears that glazed her eyes before she lowered them in defeat. It nearly melted his resolve altogether. But she blinked quickly and brushed the imprint of his grip from her dark blue sleeve before raising her gaze to his.

“But… we have to go,” came her small voice.

There ought to be a law against a gal crying, for what it did to a man inside, Seth thought fleetingly. He hardened himself against the sight of her whisking a stray tear from her cheek as he mustered up all his reason. “Look, if there was some way we could let you come, any way at all, we would. I mean that. But it’s out of the question. Even if by some stretch of the imagination you could make the trip—and you can’t, take my word for it—at best, you’d slow us down. You’re too much of a risk. Now, I’m taking you back to your hotel, and when we get there I’m giving you back your father’s registration fee. That’s my final word on the subject.”

Her shoulders sagged in hopelessness, and her despair cinched itself around the middle of Seth’s stomach. But he had to hold firm. It was the only thing to do, and all for the best. In time she’d see it, too. He watched her turn and walk mutely toward the Bradford.

Seth accompanied her without speaking. When they reached the hotel, he escorted her inside, then once more pressed the money her father had paid him weeks ago into her palms.

She didn’t even look at him.

He cleared his throat. “Again, my deepest sympathy to you and your sister in your loss. I wish you well. Good day, Miss Shelby.”

Seth felt like a heel as he strode away from her and called himself every choice name he could think of. But the entire scheme was insane. Any fool could see that. There was no way on earth two very young—not to mention unattached—females could endure the hardships that faced the emigrants on the Oregon Trail. All the overlanders started out with grandiose visions and optimism… but the entire route was littered with discarded furniture and household possessions, carcasses of dead horses and oxen, and worse yet, graves of every imaginable size. As if the trek weren’t rough enough over rugged mountains and endless blazing prairie and desert, there were plenty enough other threats—wild animals, bizarre weather, Indians, disease—to instill fear in the stoutest heart. It took everything a person had, not to mention an unquenchable, unbeatable spirit, to make that journey.

It took a much more valiant heart than Amanda Shelby possessed… but that didn’t make Seth feel any less like a cowardly snake for being the one to shatter her dreams.