Land of My Heart (10 page)

“You didn’t bother to tell me she was a Negro. I won’t have you associating with her kind—they cause nothing but misery and trouble.”

“Ma, please don’t say such things. Faith is very nice. She’s teaching me some of the things I need to know for the trip.”

“No she’s not. I don’t want you to be seen with her. Now come on. It’s her and her kind that killed your father. The Yankees wouldn’t have been in New Madrid if not for the slaves.” She turned and began walking back to their campsite.

Dianne looked regretfully at Faith and followed; she could still see the expression on Faith’s face long after they’d parted company. It seemed she hadn’t been surprised by the condemnation in Dianne’s mother’s words. She’d taken it in stride with a look that seemed more weary than angry.

“I personally can’t believe Negroes are being allowed to travel in the same wagon train as white folks,” Griselda Showalter said as she took up a piece of quilting. “I suppose that’s the way things will be now. Whites and blacks intermingling. It’s one of the reasons I’m glad we’re heading west. Percy and I can’t have our children thinking it’s acceptable to be making friends—even marrying their kind.”

Susannah nodded. “I can’t imagine such things. It’s a complete abomination in the eyes of the Lord—I’m confident of that. At least they have the good sense to travel at the back of the train. Keep with their own kind.”

Dianne said nothing but couldn’t imagine what God would have against white folks being friends with blacks.

“There isn’t a single one I’d trust. Don’t you agree, Charity?” Mrs. Showalter paused long enough to let the older woman in on the conversation.

Charity Hammond was a gracious little woman. Dianne presumed her to be somewhere in her late fifties, for she spoke of a son who was nearly forty and lived in Oregon.

“I try not to let old prejudices give me cause to fear. I believe the good Lord has a plan in all things, even this. I’ve met some very nice people whose skin was darker than mine, and I’ve met some not-so-nice folks whose complexion was whiter than mine. I think we have to be careful about judging an entire group of people by the standards of fear and ignorance.”

“I’m not ignorant about anything,” Griselda replied hostilely. “I’ve had to deal with them too many times.”

Dianne watched as Charity worked on her quilt block, seemingly ignoring the conversation. The tight clench of her jaw, however, made it clear that this wasn’t the case. Dianne moved closer to watch Charity’s stitches.

“I wish I could do work like that,” she said, offering Charity a smile. She wished she could just blurt out that she didn’t agree with her mother and Mrs. Showalter.

“The key is to put the needle straight down when you pierce the fabric. Don’t slant it, or the stitches will be bigger. Here, you try on this block,” Charity said, handing Dianne the piece.

“Oh no, I might mess it up.”

Charity chuckled. “I’m not concerned about that, child. Nothing that’s done can’t be undone if needed. Every girl ought to know how to sew and make quilts for her home.”

“There was never a need for such things when my husband was alive,” Dianne’s mother began. “I hated sewing as a child and have forgotten far more than I ever knew on the subject. We purchased our clothes and paid a seamstress to make what we couldn’t order. She also did our mending.”

Griselda harrumphed. “It must have been nice to have that kind of money.”

Dianne remembered her stew and plans to see Faith to learn about seasoning it. “Ma, I have a stew cooking in the Dutch oven, but I don’t know how to season it.”

Griselda and Susannah both looked up. Charity reached out and patted Dianne’s knee. “Seasoning is all a matter of likes and dislikes. There are all sorts of things you can try.”

“I’ll help you with the stew,” Griselda said, looking at Susannah rather than Dianne. “I have come up with the perfect combination of herbs and spices. You’ll love it, I promise.”

And in this way the matter was taken from Dianne’s hands. She watched as Griselda tossed aside her sewing and motioned for Susannah to follow her to where the Dutch oven sat in the coals.

“Never mind, child. It’s just her way,” Charity said quietly.

“I’d still like to know how you’d go about seasoning the stew,” Dianne said, trying again to make a tiny stitch in the quilt block. “Oh, look!” she exclaimed. “I did it!”

“Yes,” Charity said, offering Dianne a beaming smile. “I think you’re going to find that you can accomplish most anything you set your mind to.”

Dianne met the woman’s gaze and heard the sincerity in her voice. “I wish I had as much faith in me as you seem to have.”

“It’s not faith in you, child,” the older woman said softly. “It’s faith in God.”

CHAPTER 6

“Y
OU SEEM A BIT PREOCCUPIED, COLE. WANNA TALK ABOUT IT
?”

Cole looked up to find Daniel Keefer, his new boss, watching him from across the campfire. “Nothing much to talk about, sir.”

Keefer took up his pipe. “I thought it a stroke of good luck to find you in Salt Lake, but you’ve been as silent as the grave. Not much of a companion across the empty prairie.” He smiled, but his good nature did nothing to encourage Cole’s black spirit.

“Will we be picking up any more families before we head out for Kansas?” Cole asked.

“I’m not expectin’ to, but you can never tell,” Keefer replied before lighting his pipe. He took several deep draws before continuing. “I have hired on a couple of new fellows to help out. They have nothing but the clothes on their backs and a bedroll, but they’re desperate to get west. I’ve offered them good work, just like you. It never hurts to have an extra man on the trip.” He chuckled and stretched out his legs. “They’re all hungry for gold, but no matter. Throwing in with us will allow them the safety of numbers and the knowledge of how to get there. I hope Virginia City doesn’t disappoint them too much.”

Cole tried to focus on the conversation and forget the miseries of his past, but with statements like that he couldn’t ignore his own disappointment with the territory. He thought often of the things that had happened in Virginia City, driving him away. Memories that burned in his heart and mind with pictures so vivid they made him long only to forget. Even now, as he talked with Daniel Keefer about the trip back, Cole felt his anger flame into an inferno.
Cursed country.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about what ails you, boy?” Keefer asked. “I’ve been around folks too long to be fooled into thinking you’re just the quiet sort.”

“Not much to tell. I guess I miss my family,” Cole lied.

“Whereabouts are they?”

“Topeka. My mom and two sisters.”

“But I thought you said you’d come from living with your pa in Virginia City.”

Cole shifted uncomfortably and picked up the knife he’d started to put an edge on earlier in the evening. Running it gently across the sharpening stone, he tried to think of how to answer. “My pa is still in that area. When he went west for gold, I went with him while my ma and sisters decided to stay in Topeka. They’d had enough of moving around.”

“Had you moved quite a bit before that?”

“At least four times that I can remember, in no more than a twoyear period. My ma said it was time to settle down to one place and that she liked Topeka. My sisters were making good friends. None of the Selby women wanted to leave.”

“That must have been hard on your pa. A man likes to have his womenfolk close at hand. He worries about their safety otherwise.”

“Not my pa,” Cole said, knowing the bitterness in his tone would make clear his feelings. “Pa thought of himself first and foremost. Said he was no good to anyone else unless he was happy with himself. The only problem was, Pa was never happy anywhere he went.” Some of the anger left Cole as he remembered this. Somehow it seemed to unloose his tongue.

“I used to feel sorry for my pa. Ma was so hard on him at times. She would call him no-account and lazy, and I thought it pretty demeaning. When Pa came up with the idea to go to the Idaho goldfields, I knew Ma would never approve. I resolved to go with him so he wouldn’t have to be alone. But sometimes … well, a lot of times … I think he would have preferred to be by himself.” Cole glanced up to find Keefer nodding.

“Sometimes a man needs that. A fellow doesn’t need company the way a woman does. He keeps his family close to make sure they’re provided for and safe, but it’s different than needing someone to talk to. That’s why it’s good for a woman to have her family and friends around her. I never did mind the missus having her ma and sisters around. She used to have the entire collection of church ladies to the house twice a month. Never bothered me at all.” He grinned. “Of course, I mostly was gone during those occasions.”

Cole gave him a halfhearted smile. “My ma did things like that as well. I usually made myself scarce.”

“How did your ma fare with you and your pa away?”

Cole shrugged and went back to stroking the knife against the whetstone. “I guess she’s done well enough. She started taking boarders before we even left. We had a fair-sized place that Ma had bought with money she’d come by when her aunt passed on. She saw boarders as good income. I couldn’t abide the crowd, so any thought I had of staying in Topeka went right out the door.”

“I wondered why you decided to take off; figured you might feel the need to take care of your ma.”

Cole shook his head. “My ma never needed takin’ care of. I think that was one of the reasons my pa felt so worthless around her. He knew she’d be just as well off, maybe even better, without him as with him. Seeing that, I guess I felt sorry for Pa. He never did seem to fit in anywhere.” Cole remembered the way he’d actually hurt for his father. Townsfolk always seemed to scorn the man. He wasn’t vital to any community, having a variety of skills but not being accomplished with any of them.

“Sometimes feeling sorry for a man only leads him to worse wear,” Daniel said, breaking Cole’s train of thought.

“I’m sure that’s true. I really hoped Pa would strike it big in gold. I wanted him to be good at something.” Cole fell silent and tried to refocus his thoughts on his mother. “Ma’s last words to us when we loaded up to head north were, ‘When you’re done with this nonsense, I hope you’ll be ready to earn a real living and settle down for once.’ I knew she was upset with us running off, but at the same time, I think she was kind of relieved. We had a couple of letters from her while in Virginia City, but I haven’t heard from her in a long while. I don’t know for sure how she’s been with the war moving ever westward.”

“I suppose that’s enough to make a fella down in the mouth.”

Cole looked up again. “I don’t mean to make my company unbearable.” He had no idea of whether Keefer meant to console him or fire him.

“Isn’t that so much as I recognize your misery. I’ve had my own share of it. I’m thinking, though, it would be possible to let you take a few days off when we bring the wagons north of Topeka. You could visit with your family and catch up with the train after a day or two.”

Cole was surprised at the man’s kindness. Daniel Keefer was the only person who had shown him the slightest consideration since he’d left his father. “I’d like that. Thanks, Daniel.”

The man nodded and got to his feet. “Think I’ll take a little walk and check on the camp before I turn in. I’m going to need you to help me tomorrow with checking out some of the wagons those new folks aim to take. We need to make sure they aren’t new wagons made of green wood. Nothing sadder than seeing those things dry as the trip goes on and leave big old gaps and twisted frames.”

“I’ll be up early,” Cole promised. “I’m just gonna finish sharpening this knife and then I’ll turn in.”

Keefer headed out, smoking his pipe as he went. Cole sat and stared at the fire for several minutes. He had to admit it would be good to see family again. His mother and sisters had never had much to do with him—a mystery to be sure—but he would be glad for their company nonetheless.

But then the thought came to him that he’d most likely have to explain his presence. How much should he say? A part of him longed to talk to someone about what had happened in Virginia City, but he really had no one. Would his mother understand or would it just give her one more reason to hate his father?

He remembered back a few years to an argument he’d heard his parents have. It was years before the war, and Cole had been just a boy. His mother had told his father that if he didn’t settle down, he’d end up ruining Cole. “You’ll teach him to be a rambling no-account, same as yourself, Hallam. The boy would be better off without a father as to end up like you.”

The words had hardened him against his mother. She seemed so cruel—so hateful. He hadn’t understood her misery, her longing for a place of her own and friends. Moving had been an adventure to Cole, an adventure that had given him new and exciting locations and friends. And while it was true that he never had a chance to rekindle those friendships or revisit those places, Cole felt he was no worse for the wear.

He couldn’t say the same for his adventure to Virginia City. That nightmare had robbed him of all his hopes—all his tomorrows.