Ten exhausting days after leaving Fort Laramie, the wagon train labored up and down the slopes of the Black Hills, where sweet-scented herbs and pungent sage permeated the air. Mountain cherry, currants, and tangles of wild roses lay against brushstrokes of blue flax, larkspur, and tulips. Game was prevalent, and solitary buffalo bulls roamed the ravines of terrain so rough it tested even the most recent wagon repairs, to say nothing of the most rested soul. Trudging a little off to one side while Sarah Jane took a turn driving, Amanda observed for the first time how rickety most of the rigs appeared. Even their own prairie schooner, once so new and sleek against the more clumsy Conestogas, showed the same deterioration. Hardly a wheel in the company was without a wedge or two hammered between it and the rim to fill gaps in the shrinking wood. Canvas tops above the rattling, creaking wagons were stained with grease and dust and bore patches or gaping holes from hail and wind. Animals that had begun the journey hale and hearty now appeared jaded and bony… and ahead lay even rougher country. So many, many miles yet to cover.
“Mandy?” Sarah barely paused. “What do you think of Alvin?’”
“He’s quite nice-looking,” Amanda fudged, then ventured further. “He has very gentlemanly manners, shows definite artistic talent, and will be quite rich someday, from what you’ve told me.”
“Yes. That’s true. All of it.”
“Why do you ask?” With sadness Amanda skirted a child’s rocking horse that had been discarded by someone up ahead.
“I was just wondering.”
“Has he… I mean, has he done something… ungentlemanly?”
Sarah shook her head. “No. But he’s beginning to care. For me.” Her voice vibrated with the jouncing of the seat.
The news did not come as much of a surprise, considering all the time the two had spent in each other’s company. Glancing at her sister, Amanda expected to see a hint of excitement—even happiness—in her expression, yet Sarah seemed glum. Amanda could only pray that her sibling’s trust in men would not be shattered as her own had been. “What about you, Sissy?”
Sarah’s gaze drifted away, and she smiled. “He does meet a lot of the qualifications I set out when we first started this journey, doesn’t he? He is rich. He is quite handsome.”
“But?”
The smile wilted.
“I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be avoiding him, at Fort Laramie, while you spent more time with Bethany and Tad.”
“I… needed time. To think.”
Amanda could see her sister’s unrest. “Tonight at camp we’ll pray about things. Together, like we used to. Would you like that?”
Sarah only nodded.
After Amanda fell asleep, Sarah Jane eased off the pallet. The sudden absence of its comforting warmth became even more apparent as the chill of night crept around her. Shivering, she shook out an extra blanket and wrapped it about herself, lit a small candle, and opened her journal.
Dear Diary,
It’s been days and days since last I visited with you. The rest at Fort Laramie did wonders for both people and animals. A hard rain made the river too swift to cross, so our departure was delayed an extra day. The upper crossing of the North Platte, however, was without mishap, thanks to the Mormon ferry… eight dugout canoes with logs laid across the tops—an effective, if flimsy, method of transport.
Now, heading into the mountains, the land is bleak and barren. Things that appear green in the distance turn out to be only dry sand and rock, sprinkled with stunted clumps of sage and greasewood.
It makes me sad whenever we pass castoff treasures along the trails but folks are trying to ease the burden on the animals lumbering so earnestly in this upward climb. We’ve been examining our own meager stores, wondering what we might be able to do without, should our mules begin to falter.
I pray we all make it through this rough section of country, so full of ravines and treacherous slopes. Progress sometimes slows to a point that tempers flare at the least provocation, and the men remain on their guard for rattlesnakes and other wild animals.
Tapping her pencil against her chin in thought, Sarah frowned. Then, after a short pause, she continued writing.
Alvin has expressed a desire for some kind of commitment from me, but I’ve managed to put him off, suggesting we remain friends for a while longer. I always thought wealth was important, along with one’s outward appearance… But now such things seem trivial. Especially in the face of true loss and real struggle, like poor Bethy and Tad endure every day. I feel a little guilty about hiding behind those little ones, though, while I try to decipher my true feelings regarding Alvin. Mr. Hill seems greatly appreciative of any thoughtfulness shown to his children. He’s quite a sensitive man—and ever so much more mature than Alvin. I—
She stopped writing and nibbled at her lip, trying to put her feelings on paper. Then she erased the last word.
Two of the hard days following the ferrying of the river were made all the more loathsome by scummy water, alkali springs, choking dust, and the putrid stench of animal carcasses lying in gruesome little pools of poisonous water. Then came a hideous stretch of deformed rock strata that tore relentlessly at hooves, boots, and wheels.
Finally, to everyone’s relief, the valley of the Sweetwater River came in sight, with its easier grades, fine water, and grass to be enjoyed for more than a week’s travel. Cheers again rang out when the huge bulk of Independence Rock loomed on the distant horizon.
“We’ll be there to celebrate July Fourth, Mandy,” Sarah Jane exclaimed. “Right on time.”
Amanda nodded. No one appreciated rest days more than she. Of all the recent tortures—steaming marshes, odorous sulphur springs, and the like—most horrendous had been the huge crawling crickets that crunched sickeningly beneath wheels and boots for a seemingly endless stretch of miles. Each day took increased effort to remain optimistic for Sarah’s sake, while inwardly her feelings were anything but pleasant. Surmising that other women appeared to have things so much easier than she, with men to drive the wagons and look after repairs and animals, Amanda gritted her teeth, fighting feelings of jealousy and self-pity.
“…so I said to him—” Sarah stepped closer to the wagon. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
“Hm?”
“Oh, never mind. Do you feel all right, Mandy? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine. Fine!” At her own uncharacteristic outburst, Amanda watched the scenery blur behind a curtain of tears.
“No, you’re not. You’re not fine at all.”
Even Sarah’s voice sounded faint, sort of fuzzy as she scrambled aboard. “You need to go lie down in back. I’ll take over.”
You can’t. I’m the oldest. The one in charge. But the words wouldn’t come out. In a wave of dizziness, Amanda relinquished the reins without a fuss and nearly toppled off the seat. She crawled back to the pallet. The rumble and rattle of the wheels made her head pound and pound…
Voices. Everywhere. Loud and laughing. Noise. Too much noise. And it was hot, so hot… or cold. How could one shiver so much when it was hot? Why couldn’t the world just stop and be still? There had to be quiet somewhere. Where was Oregon? All a body really needed was peace and quiet, a place to rest. To sleep.
“Do you think she’ll be all right?” Sarah looked anxiously to Mrs. Randolph, hating the waver in her own voice as she peered down again at Amanda’s flushed face. At least her sister had stopped thrashing about and now appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
“Right as rain, soon enough,” came the soothing reply. “Poor child’s plumb exhausted, that’s what. She’s been workin’ herself near to death, always doin’, doin’, never takin’ time to be young.”
“It’s my fault,” Sarah moaned miserably. “I’ve let her carry the whole load this entire journey. Now I’m being punished. What if—”
“Don’t even think such nonsense,” the older woman chided. She removed the wet cloth from Amanda’s brow and rinsed it out in cool water before replacing it again. “Your sister’s a person who takes responsibility serious, is all. She likes makin’ it easy for you, seein’ you having fun with the others. It makes her happy.”
The truth of the statement only made Sarah feel worse. “And I was only too glad to run off and leave everything to her—even after declaring I’d help out more. I hate myself.”
“Now, now.” Mrs. Randolph patted Sarah’s arm. “These days of rest here at Independence Rock will do her a world of good, you’ll see. And when we’re on the road again, she’ll perk right up, wantin’ to take over. See if she don’t.”
“I hope you’re right. Mandy’s all I’ve got left in this world. I’m sure not about to give her up!”
“Well, I’ll be bringin’ some broth by in a little while. See if you can get her to take some.” With a nod, their kindly neighbor took her leave.
Sarah took Amanda’s limp hand in hers and softly massaged it, praying she would open her eyes, be herself again… her dear strong Mandy, who was everything she wished to be herself. Confident, independent, capable… A rush of tears threatened to spill over, until a shuffling at the rear of the wagon brought her emotions back in check.
A voice cleared, and a familiar face peered through the back opening. “How’s the patient?”
“Doing better, Mr. Holloway,” Sarah answered. “Resting comfortably now.”
He nodded and his expression appeared to relax. “Well, if you need anything, let me know.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind. I will.”
More visitors came by throughout the day, one by one. Jared Hill, Alvin, Ma Pruett, all of them speaking in quiet voices.
Even Bethany tapped gently on the side of the wagon, her smudged face scrunched with concern. “I brought Miss Amanda some flowers,” she whispered, clutching a raggedy bouquet in her hands. The stems were too short to put in water.
Sarah accepted the offering with a gracious smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. She’ll just love them when she wakes up.”
“Papa said I can’t stay, so I’d best go now.”
Sending her off with a hug, Sarah felt comforted and hopeful. Maybe she and Mandy had a family after all, one given to them by God. She bowed her head in a prayer of thanks.
“So I missed the whole celebration,” Amanda said in amazement as the train meandered past the spectacular slash in the granite mountains known as Devil’s Gate, heading toward Split Rock and the much-anticipated Ice Slough folks were eager to see, still a few days hence.
At the reins, her sister nodded. “Fireworks, gunshots, the raising of the flag, everything! I’d have thought the racket would have disturbed you.”
“I never heard it. Any of it! Sorry I was such a bother.”
“You weren’t. You earned that rest—I’m just sorry you had to get sick to get it!”
“Well, I’m better now. Did you get to climb the rock, at least?”
Sarah’s smile held a hint of guilt. “Actually, when I saw you were doing all right, I did go up with some of the others while Mrs. Randolph stayed with you. Alvin took a pot of axle grease along and wrote his name and mine together for all the world to see. Do you believe that?” She giggled. “When he went with Jason to catch the view from the far side, I added a few other names to the list. By the time we left to come back down, the list read, ‘Jason and Alvin and Sarah Jane and Amanda and Mary Katharine, Bethany, and Tad.’ Alvin never noticed.”
Amanda couldn’t help laughing. She adjusted her shawl over her warm coat as they rode in mountain air crisp with pine and the sweet perfume of wildflowers. Tomorrow she would either walk or drive to spare the mules, but today it did feel good to ride—even on the hard, springless seat. She just wished she hadn’t missed the festivities at Independence Rock.
“You sure had a lot of visitors while you were sick.”
“Oh?”
Sarah guided the team around a fallen log. “Mrs. Randolph, of course, was a godsend. She was the one who knew it wasn’t cholera, just exhaustion, and was a great encouragement to me. She made you that good broth.”
“Sounds just like her. She’s a dear.”
“And then Jared Hill came, and Alvin, and Ma Pruett. Bethy picked the sweetest flowers and brought them to you. Even the wagon master checked on you.”
Amanda’s heart tripped over itself. “Mr. Holloway?”
“Mm-hmm. Told me to let him know if we needed anything. I know you think he’s domineering and stodgy, but I found him to be rather… nice.”
“Well, I suppose everyone has his good points,” Amanda hedged. The man probably kept tabs on everyone in his train. Yes, that had to be it. Of course, chances were he’d come to see if the problem was cholera, even yet hoping to force her and Sarah to stay behind!
But, on the other hand, there was no harm in allowing a tiny part of her to dream he truly cared… as long as she didn’t voice the thought aloud. No one needed to know such a seemingly inconsequential gesture would be locked inside the treasure house of her heart forever. After all, someone destined for spinsterhood could probably use a few secret dreams to look back on in later lonely years. Pretending to adjust her bonnet during an elaborate stretch, Amanda turned to see if the wagon master was anywhere within sight.
Seth nudged his mount over a knoll, keeping an eye on the straggling cattle that plodded in the wake of the wagon train. Not many head had been lost up to this point. Not many travelers, either, considering how quickly and effectively an outbreak of cholera could wipe out an entire company. They’d been pretty lucky so far.
He’d noticed Amanda Shelby was up and about, too, after wearing herself out. Not that he cared, particularly, but someone with her spirit deserved a quick recovery, and he was glad the Almighty saw fit to give her one.
Strange, how he’d started attributing occasional circumstances to God’s hand of late. Gramps would like that. Could he be smiling down from the pearly gates now? Next thing, Seth would find himself going back to praying on a regular basis, dusting off the little black Bible he’d kept out of Gramps’s possessions. Wouldn’t that be something. He smirked, hardly bothered by the fact that the concept no longer seemed so unthinkable. He must be getting old.
Shifting in his saddle, Seth felt the letter he’d gotten at the fort crinkle in the pocket of his trousers. He compressed his lips. So Liza wanted him back. The gall of that woman! After worming her way into his younger brother’s life for no other reason than to spite Seth, she’d seen the error of her ways and wanted to call it quits. As if he’d go behind Drew’s back like that! He grimaced and shook his head.
Time to get rid of that fool thing before Red came across it. Removing the papers from his pocket, Seth tore them to shreds and let the wind scatter the pieces far and wide.
Women. There sure was a shortage of truly honest and decent ones. Ones with real spirit who could bring out the best in a man, make him want to settle down.
When a certain feminine face and form drifted across his consciousness, Seth wasn’t quite so quick to squelch the green-eyed vision… even though he figured he had a lot of good years left to boss trails while he saved up for that thoroughbred horse ranch he’d always dreamed of.
Urging Sagebrush after a cow that was too far off the trail, Seth spotted a familiar-looking cloth item on the ground and swung down to pick it up.