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Molly was a bit tired when she got up, but she had felt the coolness without Erin’s body next to her own in the bed. She knew Erin would have gotten up at least once to move the animals around. It was important when it was this cold to keep their blood flowing. Even the poultry would have been moved. Maybe it was the noise they made as her spouse placed their cages down in another spot that had woken her? Carefully, she climbed out of the wagon. The cats eyed her warily, and the dogs greeted her happily as she petted them, taking a moment to caress Queenie’s bulging body filled with pups. She made her way to the fire to build it up but saw that Erin had already done that. She could hear as Erin milked the cow in the stillness of the morning; it made swishing sounds as the milk hit the sides of the bucket. She began to prepare breakfast, wondering how in the world they would be able to feed all these children but happy at the idea.
After waking the children, who were a little quieter and shyer after the previous day, she had Erin help her go through the trunks that contained extra clothing and help find better fitting clothes and shoes. Even if they didn’t fit them perfectly, it was better than the castoffs from the orphanage. Opening the trunks was like hunting treasure, and the children all looked on avidly, even a bit enviously, at the treasures within.
“Whose were these?” Tabitha asked, enjoying the dress she was given. It felt nice. She stroked the material with her hand, glad for once that it wasn’t a ripped castoff.
“Some of them were mine,” Molly admitted. “Those were probably Erin’s brothers,” she said, pointing to the clothes the boys were putting on. Some would require a belt or suspenders until they grew into the clothes or boots. She wouldn’t mention that some of the dresses had been Erin’s; let the children assume they were all Molly’s.
Molly insisted on keeping the clothing they had gotten at the orphanage because they never knew what would come in handy. The sun was well up before Erin had the two yokes of oxen hitched to the wagon and they headed out. Everyone was bundled up in the cold air but excited, which helped to keep them warm. For the first time in a long time, the children felt fed and warm and were looking forward to the future. Erin was smiling from the back of the mare, pleased that the saddle fit, and she wasn’t bumping along bareback on one of the farm horses. Molly boosted Queenie up and climbed up beside her.
“Can I ride up front with you?” Tabitha asked, hesitantly. She eyed the female Belgian Tervuren warily as the big dog sat proudly next to Molly. The dog looked at the child with an almost too intelligent look, almost as though she were human.
“We’ll make room for you,” Molly said happily, moving over and shoving the dog slightly with her hip.
“Me too?” three other voices echoed.
Molly suddenly looked worried about showing favoritism, but Erin rescued her before they set out. From her seat on her horse, she asked, “Why don’t you all take turns? Who is going to ride with me first?”
Theodore, Tommy, and Theresa immediately clamored to ride with Erin, but with a mischievous grin, she turned to the toddler who was watching wide-eyed while holding onto the back of the wagon seat and asked, “Timmy, would you like to ride with me first?”
Solemnly, the boy nodded, sticking his thumb in his mouth. He had no idea what he was agreeing to but nodded anyway.
“Erin, do you think you should?” Molly worried, knowing that herding the cattle and horses could be difficult.
“Timmy will be fine,” she assured her, leaning over from the saddle to scoop the boy out of the wagon as he held up his arms. She knew the toddler would only last maybe an hour before he fell asleep. His face was rosy in the cold, winter air and his nose a little snotty, but Erin had a handkerchief ready for the boy. With Timmy ensconced on the saddle in front of her, she held onto his middle with one hand, her reins in the other hand. She began to gather the animals milling about behind the wagon who seemed to understand what they were doing and got into line. King encouraged them to stay that way too. She laughed as she pointed out the sow, who jogged to keep up with her piglets in the sling below the wagon. Timmy laughed with her, not really understanding but enjoying all the animals and the fun of riding a horse. He looked about avidly.
The remaining children vied for position in the wagon, bickering occasionally, which Molly diverted by giving them a picture book she had also fished out of the trunk. They hadn’t had such luxuries in the orphanage. Periodically, as the hours went by, she had them change positions. Timmy eventually had to go down for a nap, and the others took turns riding with Erin. They stopped at noon to let the animals rest and eat. They were near a creek, which made it easy to water them. The ice was thick, but Erin chopped through it to hand buckets of water up to the others, so all the animals got a good, healthy drink. If they ate snow, they might chill. A good, healthy draught of water was better. Molly fretted about their things in the wagon and the children mussing up the beds. Erin knew that Molly had made sure they’d made the beds, so that any sitting or standing they did would not dirty the sheets.
“No, Theresa. You can’t just eat whenever you want from there,” Molly explained to the little girl who had helped herself to one of the bags. “This is for all of us.” She realized that the children had probably been starving in the orphanage. She didn’t know how long they’d been with their parents or the circumstances, but she knew they were amazed at the ‘riches’ before them in the tightly packed wagon.
“You don’t touch stuff without permission,” Erin told the children firmly. She hadn’t considered that their natural curiosity and other behaviors might become a problem. They had to be careful how much they consumed. This would have to last them the months it would take to travel. There were also other things in the wagon she didn’t want the children to know about, touch and possibly break, or tell others about.
That first day tired out the children, who weren’t used to the travel, but it also set the tone as they traveled along. Taking turns riding on the front seat with Molly and the pregnant dog, as well as switching off from riding with Erin, they all got a chance to chat and get to know one another. Sometimes, they were quiet for hours. Other times, they would blather on as children were wont to do.
When they would stop for a ‘breather’ to give the oxen and horses a break, Molly insisted the children run around, warming up and expending the excess energy she knew was building up in them. Erin cautioned them away from the cattle and horses and warned them not to upset the poultry. The poultry were still laying, despite the cages. The rocking of the wagon was lulling them into a state of total relaxation.
“Look at them go,” Molly said wistfully, watching as the children played together, the younger ones trying to keep up. The dogs joined in as the children learned they were friendly, playful, and full of energy, Queenie just a bit slower than usual.
“They look happy,” Erin smiled as she commented, taking the opportunity to hug Molly sideways. The children had looked so dismal and serious back in Melville.
Despite taking naps in the wagon during the day, each night, after a hot and hearty meal, the children were ready for bed.
“They look like they are already growing out of their clothes,” Molly smiled as Tabitha trudged off to bed after Theodore. The other three had already been asleep for at least half an hour. They’d been teaching the two older children their letters; their education from the orphanage was sadly lacking.
“Did you see how proud Theresa was after spelling cat in the dirt?” Erin laughed as she looked to the space she’d smoothed out for these impromptu lessons. She wondered what, if anything, they had learned in the lessons they had taken before.
“I think the younger ones observe more and learn faster than the older children.”
“But look how fast Tabitha and Theo are learning!”
Molly nodded, proud of their progress. She’d used the time in the wagon to teach and educate them when they wanted to listen. The readers and the schoolbooks in their wagon wouldn’t be sold now. Instead, they would be used by their children. Their children. That had a nice ring to it.
“We should look for a way to make a couple of tents,” Erin mentioned as she looked thoughtfully towards the wagon.
“Tents?”
She nodded. “When the snow is gone we might want to sleep outside of the wagon. It’s a little cramped,” she smiled meaningfully and watched as Molly blushed becomingly.
The lack of privacy had made them creative in their lovemaking. Trying to smother their cries of passion, keeping it quiet for the sake of the children, had added a new element to their love lives. They’d hidden it before from the public, but the children were far too close not to see or observe things they shouldn’t. Beyond a hug or a peck or two, neither adult wanted them observing the passion between them.
“Maybe we should check into that at the next town,” Molly conceded, looking away but smiling. “We could also use a slate?” she mentioned, to remind them both when it came time to shop.
They traveled southwest towards Indiana. The land was beautiful through this section of Ohio, gentle rolling hills of excellent farmland. They both fretted leaving the known and going out into the world to God only knew what. Only the promise that they could live their own lives their own way had set them on this journey. And their journey was only enhanced by the addition of these delightful children, an aspect they hadn’t fully appreciated when they so casually thought of adopting a child.
“Heading west?” was a familiar refrain as people observed their wagon and the animals that were herded behind it. The wagon, with its many cages of poultry, tied on barrels, and handy tools, generated curiosity. All offers for trade of the poultry, cattle, cows, horses, as well as the sow and her numerous offspring were refused.
Erin and Molly had decided not to tell people too much. They were friendly but didn’t confide where they were headed or what they were doing. There was no telling if everyone was honest, but thankfully the Belgian Tervurens and the visible rifle on Erin’s saddle kept most people at bay.
“Why can’t I learn to use it?” Theo asked.
“Because we can’t waste shot, and you aren’t old enough,” Erin told him. She’d told all the children, repeatedly, not to touch the guns. She didn’t know if they had seen her pistol tucked into the back of her waistband. They didn’t need foolish accidents. She did promise that all the children would someday learn to fire a gun, so that gave them hope.
“Me too?” Tabitha asked, expecting to hear ‘no.’ In her previous experience, ‘all the children’ frequently just meant the boys.
“Me too?” Theresa mimicked, not really understanding what she was saying.
Erin nodded, “Yes, everyone will know how to fire a gun when they are old enough to learn,” she told the surprised children.
It was weeks later, after they stopped in Indiana, that someone tried to make off with their cattle. They claimed that the cattle had broken into their pasture and caused damage. They came out with the local town deputy, demanding reparations. Having been warned of this scam as a child, Erin told them off.
“You don’t have the authority to do that,” she informed the deputy, her rifle out of its scabbard on her saddle and pointing casually past the man’s shoulder, but easily brought to bear on his chest. Molly was staring with wide eyes over the backs of the oxen, reaching slowly for the shotgun hung behind her within easy reach. “Furthermore, my cattle never went in that man’s fields. We keep them tight, and they eat off the edges of the road, which is free for the taking.”
King growled as the farmer making the claim tried to edge around Erin, who was sitting on her horse. He was trying to flank her. Theo was sitting on the back and was holding on tightly around Erin’s middle, staring wide-eyed at the men.
“I suggest you hold still where I can see you. My wife will shoot you if you approach our wagon or cattle,” Erin told him conversationally. “I know what you two are trying to pull, and I won’t fall for it. I suggest you try to con some other poor traveler and let us go on our way.”
Exchanging a look, the farmer and the deputy began to back away to let them go. Erin gestured with her gun for them to mount their horses. She wanted no one behind her with guns. Once the men were on their way and a good distance away, she signaled to Molly to get the oxen going, heading back to the cattle and horses to herd them back into line by whistling to them. They’d spread out a little, taking the opportunity to start nibbling at the visible grass along both sides of the snowy road while their humans were talking.
They ran into inclement weather as they made their way inexorably towards Missouri. The wheels of the heavy wagon were digging deep in the dirt as it rained, snowed, and sleeted. It was miserable by turns: in the wagon, on the horse, and on the seat of the wagon. Still, they couldn’t stop in their march westward and slightly south towards their first goal of Missouri.
“I’m already sick of traveling,” Molly stretched her back as she got off the wagon seat after a few weeks of travel.
“We have a long way to go before we’re through,” Erin told her, amused. She too had developed a weary saddle butt from being on the back of the mare all day. She had tried to saddle the stallion, but he was too young to go all day with a rider on his back. Even for the few hours he was saddled, he jogged instead of keeping to a nice, comfortable pace, and it frequently caused more trouble than it was worth. Erin had taken to tying a rope behind the wagon, so the stallion was kept relatively confined as they headed southwest. The children had all learned to pat the animal, who sought out their companionship when denied by his own species; the older and more placid farm horses didn’t put up with the younger animal’s hijinks.
They had a routine at night, since they were traveling alone. Erin had learned to trust Molly, who stretched out their traveling time as long as possible before stopping for the day. Even in rainy or sleeting weather, and in a snowstorm once, she had chosen spots that were favorable to all the animals. Keeping the poultry to the sides to block in the underside of the wagon, they created a cave for the dogs, the sow, and the new calf that had been born.
“Whoa there, Billy,” Erin cautioned as the bull threw up his horned head. His impressive set of horns stretched out a good five feet and were very dangerous. If she hadn’t raised him since he was a calf, she’d have been frightened of the large animal. Still, he was a sweetheart to her and only aggressive to any person or animal threatening his cows, and he included the milk cows in that. Each of the children had been introduced to him, but they maintained a healthy respect for the big beast.
“He is slobbery,” Theresa declared succinctly. Frequently he was, his nose wet from his tongue, frequently licking out and wetting it as he chewed his cud.
Erin removed the saddle from the mare along with the two scabbards she had taken to tying to it. Carefully, she removed the guns, stowing one in the wagon immediately and keeping one on a sling with her at all times. She didn’t want her one-shot guns to ever run out of ammunition and having more than one gun with her at all times could prevent a problem as they traveled into the unknown.
“We’re going to have to stop in the next town and get this fixed,” she indicated the wobbly wheel on the wagon that was causing them to slow down. She’d tightened and greased them all after acquiring the wagon last year, but travel was taking its toll on their things already. It paid to pay attention too, and Erin found herself adjusting, tightening, and repacking things all the time.
“Too bad you can’t do it yourself,” Molly nodded towards the corner of the wagon where Erin had packed the small anvil they brought with them. Already, one of the children had fallen and hit their head on it, but that only earned the children a stern warning not to roughhouse in the wagon.
Erin and Molly helped the children get down from the wagon, the curious cats jumping down to follow them, so they could explore and hunt in the long grasses beside the site that Molly had chosen. They’d lost a cat at one site, but it had obviously followed them as it showed up the next day. Both Molly and Erin had thought about caging all the cats, but the ones that chose to go with them wouldn’t have stood for it; they had simply adopted the wagon as theirs and allowed the humans to share it. The ones they had decided to cage had been relieved to be released and now came along by choice. They were curious where they were going, hiding when they traveled through towns and growling if anyone they didn’t know came too close. Between the cats and the dogs, anyone trying to get into the wagon without their family’s okay was risking life and limb. The animals had also adopted the children as theirs and allowed them to share the mattress, covers, and warmth. Frequently, a cat or two could be found snuggled in among the pile of children that slept in the wagon, much to the children’s evident delight.
Molly handed Theodore a bag, so he could feed the dogs. Erin handed a bowl with a scoop of feed for the sow to Tommy. He would let the piglets down out of their sling, which they were slowly growing out of.
Molly set out to pull back the grass and tramp down a spot despite the snow that covered the camping space. Tabitha immediately began gathering sticks, collecting extra to throw into another sling that Erin had rigged under the wagon. Erin had been told there were areas of the prairie where there were no trees to burn, and she wasn’t looking forward to the buffalo chips she’d heard they would burn. She figured having a supply with them would be good practice for later.
Erin set up a few poles she had brought to let the cattle and horses ‘think’ they were in a corral, as they started to use their hooves to dig through the snow to the grasses underneath it and graze. The ropes between these poles wouldn’t really hold them, but they thought they would, and King would enforce it. Right now, King was eating the food Theo had put down before resuming his work of guarding his mistresses’ goods. Lifting down the cages that held their poultry one by one, Erin nearly bobbled one in her fatigue. The weight of the birds threw her off center as she put them down on the ground. She handed Tommy a small bag containing a measured portion of grain to spread in each of the cages. He would give them each a palm full until he ran out. By measuring it out ahead of time, Erin prevented him from giving the birds too much.
Taking her extra gun and a small bag, Erin set off to walk around and see if she could get them any fresh meat. She also took the opportunity to remove the rags that she and Molly used on their periods from the bag. She’d been in misery all day on the back of the mare. The cramps were getting to her, but physical activity and the medicine they both used did help. She squatted well away from the prying eyes of the children but only after she scanned for anyone that might be around their site. Kicking snow over her leavings, she carefully wrapped the bloody rag and returned it to the bag where she knew Molly would wash it out when she washed her own. Hiding the fact that she still got her period was just one of the things Erin had accepted when she took on the role of a man.
“Pa?” she heard as she returned. She hadn’t seen any game in this cold weather and was worrying about their stores.
“Yeah?” she answered as she came up. She was pleased as anything when the children had started calling her and Molly ‘Pa’ and ‘Ma.’ Only Tabitha seemed to have a hard time with it, but out of respect she used it sparingly.
Just one of the children was looking for her. She saw Tommy and Theresa were picking up twigs of wood and Timmy was trying his manful best to imitate his older siblings. Erin smiled encouragingly, picking up a larger piece than the younger children could carry and dragging it one-handed towards the campsite.
“We should refill the barrels,” Molly mentioned. “That last rain should have cleared all the creeks and we can carry the fresh water.”
Erin took a couple of buckets from where they hung, putting her extra gun away after she dropped the wood, the other gun slung across her back. Stepping to the creek, she dipped both buckets and was pleased when she looked up to see Tabitha had followed her with two more empty buckets without being told. Tabitha took one of the full buckets as Erin placed the other on the ground, then Erin dipped the other two and carried them towards the wagon. Lifting the cover off the barrels one by one, she poured the buckets in, going back and forth with the young girl, who valiantly tried to lift the heavy buckets and carry them to the edge of the wagon to help her. There was no way the youth could lift the full bucket of water over her head and pour it into the large casks that Erin had fastened to the corners of the wagon, but Erin appreciated her bringing the full buckets to her. They soon topped the casks off.
“Tomorrow is washing day,” Molly announced, something she insisted on during their day of rest. It allowed them to clean their clothes and sort and organize the wagon as they used up supplies. It also allowed them to teach the children hymns and Bible verses. It wasn’t a formal day of rest, but it allowed the animals a chance to eat their fill if they weren’t near a populated area and no one objected. Sometimes, these days of rest came a week apart. Sometimes, the gap was longer.
Erin was up early, as always. King’s movements always seemed to trigger an alarm in her. Today, she rose early, so she could get out the large caldron Molly used for washing, fill it with water, and hang it over the fire she had built up. It gave her a chance to get the animals moving too, their blood circulating as she encouraged them. She spotted two of the cats watching her, probably wondering if they were moving on today and ready to leap up into the wagon if they were. She smiled. These barn cats were very smart, and she was glad they were coming along for the trip. They were a part of home she hadn’t really considered when planning which animals they would take along.
“I can’t catch him!” Tommy squealed almost as loud as the piglet he was trying to catch and return to its sling. But he was upsetting the sow, who didn’t like the sound her offspring was making.
“Careful there, Tommy. Leave him for now,” Erin advised. “We aren’t going anywhere today.”
The boy, who had climbed out to ‘help,’ immediately stopped chasing the piglet. Normally, they enticed the piglets with food and placed them in the sling, so they could get going with Mama following along behind her brood. Occasionally, they let the piglets walk for some ways on their own, but it slowed them down even more than the plodding oxen.
“We certainly aren’t going anywhere today,” Molly agreed as she appeared after taking her own ablutions in the privacy of the trees. She smiled at Erin, sharing a look of understanding over her own period, which synched with her spouse’s. “I think Queenie has started her birthing,” she murmured low. “She won’t let anyone under the wagon.”
Erin glanced where her wife was looking and saw the panting dog curled up in the early, morning light. “Good thing you decided today was washing day then,” she agreed.
Erin went to milk the cows, the calf standing close to his mama and looking on as she stripped the udder. She’d taught the calf to drink from a bucket rather than have it take its share from its mother teats. She’d worried about the offspring, but another sling at the back of the wagon had solved that problem and kept the cow interested in following along behind the wagon instead of traveling with the herd. It also let the children pet the calf. Erin chuckled when it tried to lick their hands or suck on their fingers. Its tongue was as raspy as sandpaper. The stallion, tied to the back of the wagon, had learned to nuzzle the young calf affectionately as it vied for its share of pettings.
By the time she’d finished milking both cows, strained the milk, poured some in the pitcher that Molly had designated for the children’s consumption, and poured some in a bucket that Tommy held for the calf, there was still some left to put in the chug-a-lug. Molly had washed and salted the butter from the previous day, putting the excess into a barrel, which she was hoping to sell at the next town. They were simply making too much with the excellent rocking motion that created the butter in the barrel. Any source of income was welcome, and Molly and Erin were proud of it. With five children to provide for, there wasn’t as much milk to make butter, but slowly and surely, they were filling the barrel. If they could keep sticky, hungry fingers out of it, they should have a small barrel to sell.
Erin had never considered that these children would have known scarcity or that they would always seemingly be hungry. They’d gone through a bit of jerky, more than she had anticipated, but telling them they couldn’t have any without permission had, at least temporarily, kept them from eating it all. She saw the meals that she and Molly provided them, but still they ate more. The quantity didn’t seem to make a difference as they were all slight and ran off any extra fat when they had the opportunity.
Today, Erin tried to show both Tabitha and Theodore how to set snares for rabbits or small birds like pheasants and quail, if they could find the trails. She explained repeatedly that these snares would save them some shot, were quieter than the guns, and would provide them with extra food. She cautioned that they had to be sprung before they left as it would be unfair to leave them without collecting what they had netted. “What a waste,” she pointed out.
Molly boiled the clothes using soap she had made on the farm back home. Once boiled, she pulled the clothes out, wrung out the excess water, and then scrubbed them on the board. She and Erin both did the laundry, again surprising the children that both were willing and able to do all the chores. Molly insisted that both Tabitha and Theodore learn to help, even if Theo thought it was woman’s work.
“Now, I do it, and I think you should know how to clean your own clothes,” Erin pointed out. She was still trying to break the children of those stereotypes. They hadn’t clued in that she wasn’t really a man, and she didn’t want them to. “A well-dressed, clean man is a good thing,” she also emphasized. It was far too cold to worry about bathing, but they were all becoming a little gamy, and she made sure everyone washed from the bowl. Erin wanted a hot bath in the large tub they owned but knew that would be an impossibility without absolute privacy.
As the clothes hung out on the line that Erin stretched for them, Molly washed out the bloody clothes they used for their periods. She’d excused Theo from this aspect of laundry day, but she’d included Tabitha in it, explaining what they were for and what would eventually happen to her own body when she was older.
They both checked in on Queenie periodically, who seemed to be birthing this second litter with no help from her humans. Already, three were born, but she showed no signs of stopping. In the end, she would have ten, fine, healthy pups. Molly made sure she had plenty of food and water, and she cautioned the children away from Queenie as she rested after her ordeal. Later, she would let each of the children hold a newborn pup under the watchful eyes of their concerned parents. King had realized that his mate had given birth, and he was being rather protective of them.
Erin, checking the snares she and the two older children had set, found two large and rather fat rabbits in them late in the day. Skinning them, she showed the children how to use a knife and scrape the fat from the pelts, so they could be stretched for other uses. “We’ll have a bed of soft furs before the end of this trip,” she teased as she skewered the two carcasses over the fire that no longer held the boiling caldron, which she had helped Molly empty when they were done with their washing.
“Ah, those look good,” Molly commented. “Why are they so fat?” she asked, looking at the rabbits. It was early in the year for them to have so much meat on their bones.
“I don’t know. It made me curious too,” Erin said as she showed Tommy and Theresa how to turn the spits—not too fast—and told them not to jump at the sizzling fat when it spat on the coals of the fire causing them to flare up.
They wouldn’t find out until the next day when they set out that a farmer had a large field still filled with grain he had been unable to harvest. The rabbits, deer, and other varmints must have all benefited that winter.
“Look at that,” Erin pointed out some birds to Theo, who was riding with her. The birds had just taken wing as they passed the field. They all watched the beautiful flock as it flew away and landed back in the field, instantly hidden from sight.