by Janette Oke
When she finally could control herself, she stepped back from Clark’s embrace. With a joyful heart but trembling lips, Marty said apologetically to her family, “I think I need me a little walkin’ time, an’ then we’re gonna sit us down an’ talk all ’bout this. . . .” She did well to get that far without more tears, and she left the cozy kitchen filled with the family she loved and walked out into the June sunshine.
Here at Clae’s there was no place in particular to go, so she simply wandered aimlessly around the yard. The familiar trees and little spring behind her own house had been her refuge many times over the years when she had some thinking to do. Well, Clae’s trees would suffice, she told herself. She tried to collect her scattered, excited thoughts. She was going to see Missie! She and Clark would travel those many miles on the train. No wagons—no slow days of wind and rain. Only padded seats and chugging engines eating up the distance between her little girl and herself. Oh, she could hardly wait! She held up the note she still clutched in her hand and read it aloud again. “Arrangements have been made for tickets on the train to Missie. We leave as soon as you can be ready to go. Love, Clark.”
As soon as you can be ready to go. Oh my. There was so much to be done. So many things to prepare and take with them. There was her wardrobe. She would need new things for traveling. Why, her blue hat would never do to wear out among stylish people, and her best dress had a small snag near the hem that still showed even though she had mended it carefully. Oh my. How would she ever—? And then Marty remembered the second note. This is for the new things that you be needing. Just let me know when and where you want to do the shopping.
“Oh my,” Marty said aloud. Clark had thought of everything, it appeared. “Oh my,” she repeated and quickly changed direction back to Clae’s kitchen. She must talk to the girls. They were far more aware of the present fashion trends, and they knew what stores carried the needed articles, and they knew where she should go to do her shopping and when the stages ran between the towns. “Oh my,” she said again in a flurry, “I do have me so much to do. Oh my.”
Three
Planning
The days that followed were full of excited thinking and planning. Nandry and Clae went shopping with Marty for yard goods in their small town and then pored over design sketches that Clae made in an effort to achieve fashionable gowns. It was finally concluded that a trip to a larger center would be necessary if Marty was to be presentable to the outside world on a cross-country train trip. But when could she work that outing in to this busy time? Though her wardrobe consumed much of Marty’s time and attention, there were other matters that weighed heavily on her mind, as well. One of them was the fact that Clare had wedding plans. As yet, a definite date for the marriage had not been set, but how could they go way off west not knowing? Marty held her tongue, but she did try to “plant the seed” in Clare’s thinking that it would be most helpful if he and his young lady could finalize a date. Clare understood the subtle suggestion and told Marty he would see what he could do.
Marty was also anxious about the packing. It wasn’t her own things that gave her worries, but every day she thought of something new that surely Missie and Willie and their young family might need. How much dare she accumulate before the railroad company—or Clark—would declare she had far too much baggage? She sighed as she tried to sort and select the most important items.
Clark occasionally tried to draw out an estimated day for departure from Marty. She knew a decision must be made. Clark had many responsibilities of his own that needed to be assigned to others. He couldn’t properly sort them out until Marty had given him some idea as to when she would be ready to go. She didn’t know whether to hope that Clare would set the wedding date for the immediate future or postpone it until they were sure to be back.
Then, of course, there were the other children. True, Ellie was capable of caring for the household, but it seemed like a big job to put on such young, slender shoulders. Marty conveniently forgot that at Ellie’s age she had already been a married woman.
Yet Marty’s heart was most concerned for Luke, her gentle youngest. How she wished they could take him with them. At the same time, she was afraid to suggest it, even to Clark. What if Luke did go, and what if he decided that he liked Missie’s West, and what if he decided not to come back when Clark and Marty returned home? No, she’d best leave Luke safely where he was. She had no desire to have another child settled so far away from home.
So Marty spent her days musing and fretting. She tried not to let it show, but it must have. Nandry and Clae made arrangements for the care of their children and planned a trip to the city by local stagecoach for shopping. Ellie was invited to go along. With their loving but firm counsel, the necessary items were decided on, purchased, and prepared for travel. Marty was afraid she was spending an inappropriate amount of money, but she did rather enjoy this unusual extravagance. She also bought a few pretty things to take to Missie, as well. Who knew whether Missie had opportunity to shop since leaving her home?
Clare discussed marriage plans with his sweet Kate and, with the help of her mother, they were able to arrive at a suitable date. They wisely agreed that a hurried wedding would not be a good start for their marriage, so August 27 was chosen. Clark and Marty would have no problem being home by then. Clare and Kate planned to live in Clark’s first little log home, so Clare would spend the intervening time preparing the place for occupancy, and Kate would spend her time on new curtains and floor rugs.
Ellie asked many questions and advice on the running of the home and the tending of the garden—questions to which she already knew the answers, but she probably knew it would help her mother depart with greater peace of mind if she explained it all again. Ellie assured Marty that she was looking forward to the experience, and Marty felt that it might truly be an adventure for the girl. Nandry and Clae promised to lend a hand if ever she needed assistance.
Luke took to making subtle observations about the coming separation. He suggested that it would be good for all of them to spend some time on their own and learn some independence. He pointed out to Marty that he would be spending most evenings studying for the entrance exams for college the coming fall, and he would have very little time for socializing even with family members. The additional quiet of the house during their absence would be very helpful in giving him extra study time, he said. Marty sensed he was trying to put her mind at ease about going off and leaving him, and she appreciated his concern.
Many times a day Marty went through the process of mentally sorting what she wished to take. She eyed her garden, her canned goods, her sewing materials, her chicken coop—she even eyed the milk cows. She shook her head. How in the world would she ever decide? At length, she knew she could never be sensible, so she asked for help from her family in the final decisions. Eventually it was narrowed down to a list over which Clark did not ruefully shake his head.
At length Clark was given the go-ahead. He could set a date for departure. It seemed that within a few more days, Marty could be ready to go.
“When are ya leavin’?” asked Ma Graham when they had a minute together after the church service.
Marty was relieved that she actually had a date. “Well, we take the stage out from town on Wednesday, and go on over to catch the train out of the city the next mornin’,” she replied.
“Ain’t ya excited?” Ma asked, but didn’t need nor wait for an answer. “My, I miss thet girl of yourn so much myself thet I can jest imagine how yer feelin’. Give Missie a big kiss an’ hug fer me. I have a little somethin’ here thet I want ya to take on out to her. I didn’t dare send nothin’ big—ya havin’ so much of yer own stuff to tend to, so I jest made her a little lace doily fer her table.”
Marty hugged Ma warmly, the tears in her eyes.
“Missie will ’preciate it so much,” she whispered in a choked voice.
And so the packing of the crates, cases, and trunk was finished up, the clothes for travel car
efully laid out, and the scattered items and thoughts collected. Many last-minute instructions, some necessary and some only for Marty’s sake, were given to the three boys and Ellie. There was some measure of assurance in just reviewing them over and over.
Clare and Arnie had been farming right along with Clark for a number of years, so Clark had no doubts about their ability to take care of things. They each had a piece of their own land to farm now, too, but they could handle it all in Clark’s absence. They had been instructed to get help if ever they needed it, and Luke was anxious to provide all the help his studying time would allow.
Without it actually being discussed, everyone understood that Luke probably would never be a farmer. He had a very keen mind and a sensitive spirit and was presently leaning toward the possibility of being a medical doctor. Clark and Marty felt he would be a great honor to them as a doctor, but Luke was not pressured for a commitment on his future.
And so the farming was left to the boys and the kitchen to Ellie. Marty knew she was quite able to care for the needs of the brothers, but still Marty fretted some as she thought of all the work ahead for the young girl.
The day of their departure dawned clear and bright, and the warm sunshine spilled through the bedroom window. Marty was up even before Clark and, in her excitement, flitted about working on last-minute things that really needed no attention. Her efforts were not totally without value, for it did give her something to do until it was time for them to load into the spring-seated wagon and head for town.
The four children from home accompanied them, and when they arrived—too early—at the stagecoach offices, Nandry and Josh and their family, and Clae and Joe and Esther Sue were already there.
The excitement was felt by everyone and resulted in too many talking at once, too much nervous activity, and too many near-wild children. Clark grinned around at the whole tension-filled bunch of them.
“Whoa,” he finally called, lifting up his hand, his signal for quiet. “How ’bout we see iffen we can git a little order out of this confusion?” Everyone stopped midsentence and midstep and then began to laugh.
“I suggest,” went on Clark, “thet we go on over to the hotel an’ have us a cup of coffee an’ a sandwich. Be a heap quieter, an’ we still have lots of time to kill before this here stage is gonna be leavin’.” Eventually they all fell into line and headed for the hotel and the promised coffee. Josh broke line, whispered to Nandry, and then fished in his pocket.
“Tina, yer ma says it be okay fer ya to take these here little ones over to the general store fer a candy treat. It being a special day, how ’bout ya all git two pieces of yer favorite kind.”
Shouts of approval answered him, and he passed Tina the coins. She took Mary and Esther Sue by the hands and headed for the promised treat. Andrew disdained holding hands and marched off on his own. Baby Jane was content to be held in her mother’s arms and to put up with the grown-ups while they visited over coffee cups.
When they finally were seated and had placed their orders, the talking did become a bit more orderly. They even waited for one another to finish their sentences before breaking in with a new thought or question. Marty knew her churning stomach had no interest in a sandwich. She ordered a cup of tea and sipped at it now and then between the talk and laughter. The men ordered sandwiches and even pieces of pie to go with them. Marty wondered fleetingly how they ever managed it, only a few hours since they had downed a big breakfast.
Departure time seemed to be in no hurry to come. The food had been eaten, the cups drained, replenished, and drained again, the same admonitions given and repeated, and the same assurances spoken over and over. Marty fidgeted in her seat. Clark at last said he supposed they could go on out and check on the progress of the stagecoach.
As they stood chatting before the stagecoach office, Zeke LaHaye, Willie’s pa, joined them. He greeted them all with one nod and sweep of his hat, then reached to shake Clark’s hand.
“Guess I needn’t tell ya how I envy you. Sure would love to head on out with ya. Always had me a hankerin’ to see the west country, an’ with my boy out there it sure does git awfully hard to jest hold myself here at home sometimes.”
“Well, now,” said Clark, “ya oughta throw in yer bedroll an’ come along.”
Zeke answered with a smile. “Sure is temptin’. Did bring this here little parcel iffen ya think ya can find a little room fer it someplace. Hate to be botherin’ ya like, but it jest ain’t possible to let ya go without sendin’ somethin’ along fer the family.”
“No trouble. No trouble a’tall,” assured Clark and placed the parcel with the stack of their belongings.
Marty looked at the big pile of things going west. There were all of their own daily necessities, the many things they had packed to take to Willie and Missie, the added articles from Clae and Nandry, the gifts from Ma Graham, Wanda Marshall, Sally Anne, and even some from Missie’s students during her teaching days. Yes, the pile had grown and grown and, indeed, each additional item meant “more trouble,” but she would have no more denied Zeke LaHaye the pleasure of sending something to his family than she would have denied herself. She’d discard her new hatbox if necessary in order to make room.
The stage finally appeared, two minutes early, and all the baggage and crates were loaded. Zeke’s package fit in, too, and Marty was able to tuck in the hatbox.
Over and over the words, “Ya tell Willie . . .” or “Give Missie . . .” or “Kiss them for me,” were echoed from family members. Marty turned to each one with tears in her eyes and pounding heart. It was so exciting to finally be on their way. If only “good-byes” didn’t need to come before one had the pleasure of “hellos.” She kissed Luke one last time, gave Ellie one more hug, threw kisses to the many-times-kissed grandchildren, and hurried forward lest the stage driver get impatient with her.
The good-bye shouts followed them on down the road. Marty leaned from the window for one last wave before the coach turned the corner, and then she settled back against the already warm seat.
“I do declare,” she remarked seriously to Clark, “I do believe thet travelin’ be awful hard work. I feel all worn out like.”
“We’ve barely started travelin’, Marty,” Clark laughed softly. “It’s not the travelin’ thet has ya all tuckered. It’s the gettin’ ready and the excitement. From now on, ya have nothin’ to do but jest rest.”
Marty smiled at Clark’s calm assessment but felt rather doubtful. How could she ever rest when her whole body vibrated with excited energy? Well, she’d try. She’d try.
Four
The City
An awfully long, dusty, warm stagecoach trip faced Clark and Marty on the first leg of their journey. At least in their own farm wagon, they could catch the breezes and stop occasionally to stretch their legs. The morning sun moved up high in the sky, beating down unmercifully, and the open windows helped only a little. The other three passengers were men. Clark talked to them some, but Marty found little of interest in the conversation. Besides, her mind was on many other things. Had she brought the things that Missie really could use? How big was little Nathan now, the grandson they had never seen?
In spite of the warmth in the stagecoach, Marty knew that a stylish traveling lady did not remove her hat, even in the heat of the day, but how she longed to lift hers from her warm head and let it lie in her lap.
They stopped to change horses and to allow the passengers a few moments to walk around. Marty was enormously grateful for the bit of respite. Then on they went again, bumping over the rough tracks of the road. Marty had assumed the road would be fairly well traveled and smooth, but the stage wheels seemed to find every rut available.
At noon another rest stop was taken, and Marty climbed stiffly down with Clark’s assistance and sought out the shade of some nearby trees. The men scattered in various directions to walk, sit, or stretch out on the cool grass.
Marty took their little lunch bag and spread out a noonday meal of san
dwiches and cool drink with tarts and cookies for dessert. Marty herself wasn’t much interested, but she noted that the traveling was not adversely affecting Clark’s appetite.
All too soon the stage was ready to move on again. They left the coolness of the trees and took their places on the hot, dusty leather seats. The minutes of the afternoon ticked away with the grinding and bumping of the wheels and the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves. Occasionally, a hoot or shout from the driver would call some new order to the teams.
In spite of the heat and discomfort, Marty found her head nodding. Probably the fact that she had been missing some sleep in recent days helped to make her drowsy. But it was hard to actually sleep in the jostling wagon. As soon as she would find herself slipping into relaxing slumber, another bump or shake would snap her awake. She found it to be worse than no sleep at all. She shifted position and fought to remain awake, catching glimpses of countryside through the stage windows.
A change of teams at another stagecoach station broke up the monotony of the afternoon. Marty’s back and legs ached, and she was thankful for the stretch. She thought of Missie’s long journey west by wagon train and more fully appreciated their courage through the discomfort of it all.
It was almost suppertime when the stagecoach pulled into the city station. Marty leaned forward eagerly to see all that she could as they traveled the busy, crowded streets, then realized she probably looked like a country bumpkin. She settled back against the seat and allowed only her eyes to move from side to side at a world very different from her own.
After alighting, Marty walked around, flexing her muscles and observing all of the strange sights and sounds as Clark collected their belongings and made the proper arrangements for everything to be on the morning’s train west. All they took with them for the immediate were two cases and Marty’s hatbox. Marty felt a bit panicky as she watched their luggage being carted away. Was the man truly dependable? Would he be sure to put them on the right train? Would everything arrive safely? Was it all properly labeled? What would they ever do if it did not make it?