Land of My Heart (5 page)

Late that afternoon, Susannah Chadwick sat at her desk going over several lists of figures and information they needed for the trip west. She thought about the journey and what this would mean for her family. At first she’d thought the trip west to be a foolish idea, but the more Dianne reasoned with her, the more sense it made. She wasn’t about to live her life in New Madrid without the protection of a man. The town had become much too dangerous, as proven by her husband’s untimely death.

Yet she hated being left to make decisions and plans. Her upbringing had prepared her to run a household and manage a servant or two. Her family had never been wealthy enough to own very many slaves, but there had always been a cook, a housekeeper, and a groundsman when she was growing up. Her parents had wanted her to be a proper Southern lady, so she had never learned to cook very well or do the menial tasks their servants could do instead.

“I feel completely untrained for this venture,” she murmured.Would she be able to handle the long days on the trail? Cook over an open fire? She’d learned to cook reasonably well in the last twenty years, but life in the wilds would be completely different from preparing meals on her thoroughly modern stove.

Is this the right thing to do?
she asked herself, looking back to the information Dianne had gathered for her. The girl certainly had given this a great deal of thought. For someone who hated book learning, she’d done remarkably well at putting together the figures.

Taking up a pen and ink, Susannah added little notes to herself, additional items they needed that
Prairie Traveler
had not suggested. She thought of her children, trying hard to take into consideration what extra items they might require.

Morgan and Zane are happy to go,
she mused.
But of course, they would be
. They had no desire to join in the war and they loved the stories told by those who’d been west to the wild lands beyond the state.
They’ll need an extra pair of sturdy boots, no doubt
. She wrote their names and added boots to the list.

Then there was Dianne. She frowned at the thought of her eldest daughter. She couldn’t even look at Dianne without seeing Ephraim dead in the street. It wasn’t really Dianne’s fault. As Trenton had said, decent folk should be able to walk the streets without armed escorts. Still, she had gone to the bank without protection and Ephraim might be alive now except for that one fact. Even Trenton—

Trenton
.

She’d seen nothing of him at all that day. She needed to talk to him now that he’d had time to calm down. She needed to make him understand that she appreciated his desire to see justice done for his father, but she also needed him to realize it wouldn’t be had in violence.

Tucking her papers into her apron pocket, Susannah climbed the stairs to the boys’ shared room. She noted with satisfaction that each of the three beds had been made. She’d allow for nothing less and her boys knew the penalties for messiness.

Going to Trenton’s corner of the room, Susannah felt something akin to fear overcome her. She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and found it nearly empty. Going to his bed, she raised the covers on the side to peer under the frame. His rifle was gone—so, too, his revolver.

She dropped her hold on the covers and whirled around to sit down. “He’s gone.” She felt tears well up but refused to cry.
How could he do this to us? How could he desert us when I told him what it would cost him?

Dianne peered into her cedar chest. She’d been storing household items here ever since her father and mother had given her the box on her thirteenth birthday. They’d said she was to save doilies and embroidered pieces of work for her own home some day, but Dianne had never worried overmuch about such things. She had received several pieces when Grandma Chadwick passed on, but they were more sweet reminders than useful household goods.

Taking Trent’s letter from her pocket, Dianne reached up to her dressing table and pulled down a dried flower. The pressed blossom was from her father’s funeral. Gently stroking the petals, she felt tears come to her eyes. Trent’s leaving and her father’s death … both were her fault. She placed the flower in the folds of Trent’s letter and tucked it deep into the chest. There was no time for mourning now. She had far too much work to do. Dianne was determined to make her mother as happy as possible, and if that meant working her fingers to the bone, then that was how it would be.

“I’ll drive oxen, cook and wash over a campfire, sleep on the ground—whatever it takes,” she murmured, packing her blouses atop her memory pieces. She added undergarments, stockings, and a pair of satin dancing shoes she’d worn the first time she’d danced with Sally’s brother Robbie.

“Whatever has to be done,” she told herself aloud, “I must have the strength to do. If I work hard enough—if I give more than the others, then maybe, just maybe, Mama will forgive me.”

“I’m so glad you stopped by before we left,” Dianne told her friends Ramona, Sally, and Ruthanne, who had come to bid her farewell. They’d also come bearing gifts.

“Mama said I could give you this,” Sally told Dianne. It was a small collection of
Godey’s Lady’s Book
magazines from 1859. “I know they’re out of date, but since the war, Ma’s had a hard time getting any kind of publication from back East.”

“Oh, Sally, that’s so sweet,” Dianne said as she leafed through the first one. “Why, it shows how to knit these sweet little stockings.”

“It has all sorts of wonderful stories and such too. There are fashion designs, patterns to crochet and embroider… . It even tells you how to set a proper table. You’ll be out there in the middle of the wilderness and … well, you might forget.”

Dianne laughed and closed the magazine. “Indeed, I might very well take to eating with my fingers.”

Sally frowned. “Don’t think me so ignorant that I would believe that of you.”

Dianne gently touched her friend’s arm. “I’m sorry. I truly wasn’t meaning to suggest that. I’m so very touched that you’d share these with me.” And honestly, she was touched. Sally lived for her copies of
Godey’s
. Many an afternoon had been spent at Sally’s, wiling away the hours poring through the pages.

“I brought you this,” Ramona said, handing Dianne a small metal box.

Dianne opened the box to reveal sheets of writing paper and envelopes. “Oh, Ramona, this is a treasure to be sure. I’ll write to all of you using this.” She glanced up to meet their gazes. “I don’t know how often I’ll be able to write, but just know that I will as time allows.”

They nodded somberly. Dianne felt an aching deep in her heart. What would she do without them to talk to? How would she ever abide the long, perilous trip across the plains without them to encourage her and bolster her spirits?

“This is from me,” Ruthanne said, pushing a small cloth bundle into Dianne’s hands.

Dianne unrolled the material to reveal a small wooden cross. “My pa carved it for me, but I told him you were leaving and that I wanted to give you something to remember me by. He said I could give this to you and he’d make me another one.”

Dianne smiled. “I’ll cherish it always.” She put her things aside and reached out to embrace the three girls. “I’ll miss you all more than I can say.” The awkward hug ended to reveal them all in tears.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Ramona said softly. “I’ll miss you so much.”

“You’ll miss Morgan just as much, I’ll wager,” Dianne said, trying to keep the situation from growing too maudlin. The girls giggled even as tears streamed down their faces.

“We’re a sorry lot,” Sally said, taking up a dainty handkerchief. “Just look at us. Our faces will be all red and splotchy.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dianne said. She studied the face of each girl, memorizing her features. How would she ever manage to say good-bye?

“I have some things for each of you,” Dianne continued, trying to regain her composure. “You know we can’t take many of our possessions, so I’m forced to leave them behind.” She went to her wardrobe and opened the doors. “I want you to share what’s left in here. The party gowns, the slippers, and such.”

The girls were instantly animated with oohs and aahs over the bounty. While they shared the wealth among them, Dianne went to her vanity and opened a drawer. “I also have a special gift for each of you.” She took up three small parcels wrapped in brown paper and brought them to her friends. “I wanted you to have something special to remember me by.”

Sally was first to reach for the gift. She opened it even as Ramona and Ruthanne took their packages in hand. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” She held up a necklace—a delicate gold chain with a small heart hanging from the end. Ramona and Ruthanne found exact replicas in their packages.

“This must have cost you a fortune,” Ruthanne exclaimed.

Dianne shook her head. “There are benefits to being a shopkeeper’s daughter.” She didn’t bother to tell them her mother had found the entire lot tucked inside a box of useless bits of bric-a-brac. Dianne had declared an interest and her mother had shrugged and tossed the entire collection to her. It seemed preordained, as there were three necklaces of the same style and gold color.

“Now you’ll each have something to remember me by, and I shall have these little treasures from you. I feel like the richest girl in the world.”

“My father says your family is pert near the richest in these parts. If your pa hadn’t made friends with the Yankees, like mine did, we’d probably all be poor as church mice.”

Dianne knew that was most likely true. It was one of the reasons some people hated her family. They’d never understood her father’s desire to work with, instead of against, the Yankees. Truth be told, Dianne wasn’t at all sure she understood it either. She didn’t understand much at all about the war. She’d read about slavery issues and such, but among her own people, no one owned slaves. At least not anymore, and when her mother talked of the servants her family had owned when she was young, they always sounded like extended family rather than slaves.

There were a bevy of other issues, like state’s rights and taxation problems, but Dianne’s father had never spoken much about such things with his womenfolk, and Dianne had never had the mind for such matters. And now with the move west, she supposed she wouldn’t have to worry about it. Her uncle’s letters assured her there was very little focus on war issues in the Idaho Territory.

“Promise me you’ll never forget me,” Dianne said, turning to her friends once again.

“Of course we promise,” Ramona said, looking to each of her companions. “Don’t we, girls?”

“Of course,” they replied in unison.

Dianne nodded. “I know I shall never forget you for as long as I live. I don’t know if we’ll ever meet again, but if I can have one wish, that is it. I wish for us to be together again—friends forever.”

The girls all clasped their hands together. “Friends forever,” they pledged.

CHAPTER 3

A
BRILLIANT LEMON SUN PUSHED STEADILY ACROSS THE SKY, BRINGING
spring warmth to the city of St. Louis. Susannah Chadwick hated St. Louis almost as much as she’d grown to despise New Madrid. The Yankees were in control here, and only yesterday she’d watched as they’d executed a Confederate soldier. There seemed to be no real trial or understanding of his punishment—just a systematic eradication of “vermin,” as the nearby Yankee commander had told her.

Seeing the townspeople around her, Susannah wondered if they’d grown callous to such happenings. No one seemed eager to protest or raise a single claim in the man’s defense. She was later told by the hotel owner that Confederates were executed almost daily—often led out of town on worn-out old horses and taunted to try and run for their freedom. The game was more cruel and heartless than Susannah could have ever imagined.

These images served their purpose, however. They solidified her resolve to leave the war and all its problems. She cared little for the plight of the black man. She cared nothing at all about the tariffs and political intrigues between the North and South. She wanted only for a chance to see her boys raised into men—to have them marry and produce families of their own. Dead men could do neither.

With all of these thoughts and images weighing heavy on her heart, Susannah cautiously slipped away from the hotel and made her way through the streets of St. Louis in order to finish her shopping. There were an amazing number of last-minute purchases to be made, especially in light of the news the doctor had given her yesterday. She was pregnant. The very thought startled, frustrated, and delighted her all at the same time. It was completely unexpected and almost more than she could comprehend. Betsy was six and Susannah had been confident there would be no more children for her and Ephraim. In fact, even in seeing the doctor she had been confident he would tell her it was merely her change of life. Which, although early, would have been appropriate, given all the other changes she was making.

This baby added an entirely new aspect to life. It gave her new strength and resolve. Ephraim was gone, she couldn’t change that, but a piece of him was growing anew within her. She would prove herself worthy of such responsibility. Susannah started her shopping knowing she would have to lay in a supply of white flannel and knitting materials for baby things. She’d have to see if she could buy a pattern or else find a ready-made gown that they could tear apart and trace. Susannah wasn’t all that clever with a needle, but she’d do what was needed.