Wagon Train Sisters (Women of the West) by Shirley Kennedy Page A
Authors: Shirley Kennedy
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join in partnership with my brother to run a general store in Mokelumne City.”
“If I was you, I’d save that for later. Look at us!” The man made a sweeping gesture toward his friends. “Except for Virgil, we’re rich, the lot of us. You could be rich, too, if you take a chance and try.”
Pa said no more until the next morning while they were eating breakfast around the campfire. “I’ve been thinking about those miners we talked to, the ones who are going home rich.”
Uh-oh . Sarah knew what was coming.
“They’re not all rich!” Ma cried.
Pa ignored her. His eyes held a sheen of purpose. “If those men found all that gold, I can, too. I’d be a fool to miss this opportunity. We’re heading for Gold Creek, Luzena. The store can wait.”
* * * *
The two Bryan wagons weren’t the only ones to change course. The miners’ glowing tales of wealth caused four more families to change their plans. Now, more than half the wagons in the train were headed for the gold diggings. Ma surprised Sarah by accepting Pa’s decision with little argument. “I know your father, and he won’t last long. Besides, if we stay a while, maybe we’ll come across someone who’s seen Florrie.”
Becky made no effort to hide her disapproval. Half the camp heard her screaming at Hiram. Still weak and disabled, he could at least drive the wagon now, but otherwise could hardly get around.
“I don’t want to go to Cold Creek! There’s lowlifes and thieves and God-knows-what there. I want to go to Mokelumne City like we planned.”
In his quiet voice, Hiram tried to reason with her. “It’s Pa’s decision. Not much I can do.”
“We don’t have to stay with your parents. We could go to Mokelumne City on our own.”
“Fine. If you can feed the animals and yoke the oxen by yourself, then I’m all for it.”
Sarah and her mother exchanged smiles at the silence that followed. A reluctant Becky grumbled but said no more. “So what do you think?” Ma asked Sarah.
She returned an elaborate shrug. “If it’s what Pa wants, how can I argue?” No need to mention her inner turmoil. The sensible part of her yearned for the peace and tranquility of a real home again. Another part of her, the crazy, unreasonable part over which she had no control, made her pulse leap at the thought she hadn’t seen the last of Jack McCoy.
The following day, thirty-one wagons started on the trail that would take them over the highest peaks of the Sierra Nevadas and down into the gold country. Sarah was riding Rosie when Jack rode up beside her and touched the brim of his hat. “Good morning, Widow Gregg. I hear you’re headed for Gold Creek.”
“Fancy that!” She threw him an impudent smile. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”
“Nor do I want to.” He nudged his horse and rode away, leaving her with a heart-welling uncertainty about what would happen when they reached the gold country.
* * * *
“Gold Creek dead ahead!”
Pa’s excited yell caused the sagging spirits of the Bryan family to rise sky high. The trek over the mountains had been harder than Sarah could ever have imagined. In some places they traveled along sheer ledges that soared into the sky like dungeon walls and hemmed them in. In others, they crossed over passes so steep it seemed the oxen crept forward on their knees. There were times they encountered giant drops on both sides of the trail, making it necessary for several men to brace themselves against a wagon so it wouldn’t tip over and plunge into a ravine far below. Sometimes the climb was so steep they had to take their wagons apart and drag them up over the ledges using ropes and a wench. Occasionally they had to pry and lever their wagons over huge boulders that blocked the way, all the time keeping an uneasy eye on more huge boulders hanging overhead. Deep ravines had to be navigated and mountains so steep Sarah couldn’t count the number of times she had to get behind the wagon and
“If I was you, I’d save that for later. Look at us!” The man made a sweeping gesture toward his friends. “Except for Virgil, we’re rich, the lot of us. You could be rich, too, if you take a chance and try.”
Pa said no more until the next morning while they were eating breakfast around the campfire. “I’ve been thinking about those miners we talked to, the ones who are going home rich.”
Uh-oh . Sarah knew what was coming.
“They’re not all rich!” Ma cried.
Pa ignored her. His eyes held a sheen of purpose. “If those men found all that gold, I can, too. I’d be a fool to miss this opportunity. We’re heading for Gold Creek, Luzena. The store can wait.”
* * * *
The two Bryan wagons weren’t the only ones to change course. The miners’ glowing tales of wealth caused four more families to change their plans. Now, more than half the wagons in the train were headed for the gold diggings. Ma surprised Sarah by accepting Pa’s decision with little argument. “I know your father, and he won’t last long. Besides, if we stay a while, maybe we’ll come across someone who’s seen Florrie.”
Becky made no effort to hide her disapproval. Half the camp heard her screaming at Hiram. Still weak and disabled, he could at least drive the wagon now, but otherwise could hardly get around.
“I don’t want to go to Cold Creek! There’s lowlifes and thieves and God-knows-what there. I want to go to Mokelumne City like we planned.”
In his quiet voice, Hiram tried to reason with her. “It’s Pa’s decision. Not much I can do.”
“We don’t have to stay with your parents. We could go to Mokelumne City on our own.”
“Fine. If you can feed the animals and yoke the oxen by yourself, then I’m all for it.”
Sarah and her mother exchanged smiles at the silence that followed. A reluctant Becky grumbled but said no more. “So what do you think?” Ma asked Sarah.
She returned an elaborate shrug. “If it’s what Pa wants, how can I argue?” No need to mention her inner turmoil. The sensible part of her yearned for the peace and tranquility of a real home again. Another part of her, the crazy, unreasonable part over which she had no control, made her pulse leap at the thought she hadn’t seen the last of Jack McCoy.
The following day, thirty-one wagons started on the trail that would take them over the highest peaks of the Sierra Nevadas and down into the gold country. Sarah was riding Rosie when Jack rode up beside her and touched the brim of his hat. “Good morning, Widow Gregg. I hear you’re headed for Gold Creek.”
“Fancy that!” She threw him an impudent smile. “You haven’t seen the last of me.”
“Nor do I want to.” He nudged his horse and rode away, leaving her with a heart-welling uncertainty about what would happen when they reached the gold country.
* * * *
“Gold Creek dead ahead!”
Pa’s excited yell caused the sagging spirits of the Bryan family to rise sky high. The trek over the mountains had been harder than Sarah could ever have imagined. In some places they traveled along sheer ledges that soared into the sky like dungeon walls and hemmed them in. In others, they crossed over passes so steep it seemed the oxen crept forward on their knees. There were times they encountered giant drops on both sides of the trail, making it necessary for several men to brace themselves against a wagon so it wouldn’t tip over and plunge into a ravine far below. Sometimes the climb was so steep they had to take their wagons apart and drag them up over the ledges using ropes and a wench. Occasionally they had to pry and lever their wagons over huge boulders that blocked the way, all the time keeping an uneasy eye on more huge boulders hanging overhead. Deep ravines had to be navigated and mountains so steep Sarah couldn’t count the number of times she had to get behind the wagon and
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