Land of My Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  “Who will comfort me now?” she cried softly into the thick folds of her covers.

  Outside the rain began to pour, almost as if God understood her pain and cried with her. Dianne had been so hopeful that Trent would change his mind. She hated seeing her family go its separate ways. First Pa had died, and now Trent had gone. Who else would leave them?

  Forcing herself to get up, Dianne couldn’t help but take a mental inventory of all that she loved. Her room had been her sanctuary. It was small, barely large enough to fit her small bed, but it was all her own. Her mother had thought to make it a storage room, but Dianne had pleaded to turn the tiny room into her own place of quiet.

  Trent had helped her paper the walls. The delicate rose pattern against a cream background had done wonders for the room. This, coupled with the oval rose-colored rug her father had acquired from one of the older women in the church, made the place quite cozy.

  Dianne smiled at the memories. Her mother had even helped her polish the floor, and while it certainly wouldn’t rival anyone’s parlor, the wood was smooth and free of snags.

  “I’ll miss it,” she murmured, fingering the lacy curtains her mother had ordered. They seemed to overwhelm the tiny window, but they finished off the room with a real touch of elegance.

  With a sigh, Dianne once again read over her brother’s words of farewell. I can’t bear for you to leave, she thought. It’s bad enough to lose all of this, but I cannot lose you as well. She thought of going out and finding Trenton—to talk him into changing his mind. Then the memory of what had happened to her father halted further consideration. Dianne had scarcely left the house since her father’s death unless accompanied by the rest of the family. Her fear at repeating the scene while searching for Trenton kept her from pursuing her initial thoughts.

  Going to her wardrobe, Dianne dressed for the day, choosing a serviceable day dress. Her mother had already warned them all that the days to come would be nothing but work. The black color seemed fitting, but Dianne was tired of wearing mourning colors. Her mother would wear black for at least a year, but Dianne hoped she’d allow her daughters to wear their pretty things much sooner. Of course, space would be at a premium. They might not even be able to take their colorful dresses with them.

  Dianne pulled the shapeless gown over her head and quickly covered it with a black apron. Braiding her hair down the back, she hurriedly drew on stockings and shoes, knowing that her mother would be waiting for help with her corset.

  Knocking lightly on the door, Dianne entered to find her mother sitting at her dressing table, staring into a hand mirror. “Mama, are you all right?”

  Susannah Chadwick looked up and nodded. “I suppose as right as I can be. I was thinking—I’m only thirty-five. Thirty-six, come May. That isn’t so very old, is it?”

  Dianne shook her head. “No. It’s not. Pa used to say you looked as young as the day he married you.”

  Her mother smiled wistfully. “Yes, I remember that.” She fell silent and put the mirror on the table. Standing, she took off her robe, leaving only her cotton shift. She handed Dianne the corset.

  “Don’t make it too tight,” her mother admonished.

  Dianne marveled that her mother had maintained such a tiny frame after carrying eight children. Of course, two had been miscarried and there was one set of twins; nevertheless, her mother had managed to keep her figure trim. Finishing with the ties, Dianne helped her mother into her crinolines. Grateful that the fashion dictates of the day had flattened the sides and front of the undergarment, Dianne still found the hoop shape annoying. Her mother seemed not to care one way or the other. It was a Southern lady’s responsibility to pay strict attention to proper dress, no matter the style.

  After the crinoline came the petticoats, dyed black to match the mourning color of her gowns. Then finally, Dianne took up the dress her mother had laid out for the day. It was one of her finer Sunday dresses. No doubt her mother figured to look her best for her transactions at the bank.

  Once dressed, her mother took on a somber expression and picked up some papers from her vanity. “I’ve looked over your lists. I think you and your brothers should begin packing the crates with as much goods as possible. The idea to take mostly food items seems sensible. People always have to eat, and even the army is in constant need of supplies.”

  Dianne took the lists and glanced at them for a moment. She wondered if she should tell her mother about the note from Trent. It was possible, but not very likely, that he’d left a note for their mother. Dianne supposed she could wait and see if that were the case. After all, she didn’t want to further upset her mother by sending her to the bank in a fit of grief.

  “You’d best get me an apron,” her mother stated as she put the finishing touches on her hair. “I don’t want to splatter myself while I fix breakfast.”

  Dianne found her mother’s aprons and brought her one quickly. “I can get breakfast if you like,” Dianne offered.

  “Nonsense. I’ve been cooking for this family since the day I married your father. I’ll manage. You just see to getting your sisters dressed.”

  Dianne nodded. She went to work straightaway to get Betsy and Ardith into their clothes and ready for the day. She was surprised to find them already up and in the middle of an intense discussion.

  “Why can’t we take all our dolls with us?” Ardith pouted.

  Dianne nodded sympathetically as she combed through Ardith’s tangled hair. “I know it’s hard to leave behind the things we love, but the load will be too heavy if we aren’t wise about what we pack.”

  “But what about my tea set and my dolly’s table?”

  Dianne smiled. For all of Ardith’s tomboy ways, she was still very much a little girl at heart.

  Betsy nodded, adding, “And my baby’s buggy. How will I take her for walks?”

  Dianne worked to put her sister’s hair into two even plaits as she spoke. “The wagons will be too full of other things. We have to be careful with how much we place in the wagons. Otherwise the oxen will suffer—maybe even die.”

  “Poor things,” Betsy, ever the animal lover, bemoaned. “I don’t want them to die.”

  Dianne nodded. “I don’t either. So we’ll do our part and take only a few of our treasures. At least we don’t have to worry about having a houseful of furniture for when we settle at the other end. Uncle Bram should have all of that stuff.”

  “But I don’t want to leave all my babies,” Ardith said, jerking around as Dianne finished with her hair. “I’m their ma. I can’t leave them behind. Who will feed them? Who will take care of my babies?”

  Her impassioned plea did not fall on deaf ears. Dianne thought for a moment. “Why don’t each of you take one doll and then see if one of your friends would be willing to take care of the rest of them for you. Then maybe someday we could send for them.”

  Ardith seemed to consider this a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess so. Do you truly think we could send for the rest?”

  “Of course,” Dianne replied, imagining that once they sold the goods they’d take with them, they’d make a small fortune. Paying the postage on a shipment of dolls and their furnishings wouldn’t be that costly at all.

  Dianne went to work brushing out Betsy’s long golden curls. It seemed a shame to braid it all up when it lay so pretty against her back. Still, there was nothing sensible about leaving it down to tangle and twist.

  “How long will the trip take?” Betsy questioned. “Will it be longer than the time we visited Grandma?”

  The last time they had traveled anywhere had been just after the start of the war. Their grandpa Chadwick had been sick—dying from some kind of heart failure. They had journeyed by riverboat to Memphis in order to say good-bye and wait out his passing. Not long after that, their grandma had followed her husband in death, leaving a sad void in Dianne’s life. She’d always cherished her grandmother’s visits.

  “The trip will be much longer and harder than that,” Dian
ne said, surprised that Betsy could remember anything about the trip. “We’ll be several months trying to get to Virginia City. Idaho Territory is over a thousand miles away. Maybe closer to two thousand.”

  Betsy said nothing, but Ardith’s eyes widened with surprise. “Months? We’ll be traveling for months? Will I have my birthday on the trip?”

  “Well, hopefully we’ll be there before September,” Dianne said, finishing Betsy’s hair. “Morgan told me last night that it should only take until August at the latest.”

  “I’m glad,” Ardith sighed. “I don’t want to have my birthday in the middle of nowhere.”

  Dianne laughed. “I’m sure there are worse things to endure. Now come on, you two. Let’s get our chores done. There’s a long list of additional duties, and we need to show Mama our best faces. She’s already sad about going, so we need not to worry her with our own problems.”

  The day passed quickly after that. Dianne and her sisters went through the neatly ordered lists Dianne had made. According to what Dianne had learned, they needed to figure at least two hundred pounds of flour and twenty-five pounds of sugar per adult, which seemed like an extraordinary amount. The list only got worse. Seventy-five pounds of bacon, ten pounds of rice, five pounds of coffee.

  Well, she thought, we can eliminate my share of the coffee. I can’t abide the stuff.

  She packed and worked with the numbers until her head was spinning. By ten o’clock their mother had left for the bank and Ardith was ready for a break. Dianne had just begun to prepare her sisters some cookies and milk when the bells over the front door sounded, signaling customers.

  Dianne hurriedly dished out the goodies to the girls, then rushed through the dividing curtain to meet Captain Seager. “Good morning,” she said rather hesitantly. Dianne knew if her mother returned to find the man here she’d cause a scene.

  “What can I do for you, Captain?”

  “Is your mother in?”

  “No, I’m sorry. She’s out on business.”

  He nodded, glancing around the store. “Then it’s true. She’s selling the store.”

  Dianne had no idea how the man had learned of this, but the emptied shelves would speak for themselves. Still, she knew her mother would never allow for discussion of family business with Yankees. “Is there a message I can give her?”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s fine. I really only came to confirm that she was selling out. I heard you were all headed to the Idaho Territory.” Dianne felt little choice but to admit the truth. “Yes. My uncle lives there.”

  “I hope you’ll be very happy, Miss Chadwick.” He looked around the store again. “Why don’t you … uh … give me a pound of peppermints. I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

  Dianne hurried to do his bidding. She took his money and handed him the sack of candy, praying all the while he would leave before her mother’s return. It wasn’t to be.

  “Dianne!” her mother called from the back room. At least she’d come in through their private entrance. Maybe Dianne could hurry Captain Seager out the front before her mother learned of his presence.

  “I’ll be right there!” Dianne smiled at the captain. “I’ll have to bid you good day.”

  “That’s quite all right. I’d like you to let your mother know I’m here. I’ll wait.”

  Dianne frowned but nodded. She couldn’t imagine her mother wanting anything to do with the man. “I’ll tell her.”

  But before Dianne could reach the curtain that partitioned the storeroom from the store, her mother came into the room. “Dianne, there are still …” Susannah fell silent as her gaze fell upon Captain Seager. Stiffening, she nodded. “Captain.”

  “Ma’am, I’d heard it rumored you were selling out and leaving New Madrid. I wanted to come see for myself. Maybe offer you a bit of escort—at least for a short distance. There’s been a lot of guerilla conflict of late.”

  “We need nothing from the Yankees,” she stated flatly. “Certainly not protection from neighbors who love and respect us.”

  Seager seemed taken aback by her response. “Ma’am, there’s a war of the worst kind going on in this state. We’re facing the prospect of the battles being just as intense here in Missouri as in the East.”

  “And well I know it,” she replied. “Why else would I take my family and flee? They might meet with the same fate as my husband, and then where would I be?”

  Captain Seager glanced at Dianne as if for help. Dianne quickly bowed her head. There was no possible chance she would position herself in his defense. Not when her mother was suffering so much.

  “Ma’am, I am sorry for your husband’s death. He was a good man and a true friend to me.”

  “Please leave my store.” The words were delivered with calm dismissal. Her mother wasn’t generally given to losing her temper, but this might well be one of those times. Dianne stepped to her mother’s side.

  “Good day, Captain. Don’t forget your peppermints,” Dianne said, hoping he’d not make any further fuss.

  Seager appeared to understand and for this Dianne breathed a sigh of relief. She watched him turn to go, glad there would be no further encounter.

  “Well … safe travels, ma’am,” he murmured and passed into the street. The bell jingled and echoed behind him, blocking out anything else he might have said.

  “What was he doing here?” Mother questioned.

  Dianne shrugged. “Just what he said. He’d heard we were leaving for the Idaho Territory and wanted to know if it was true. Then he bought some peppermints.”

  Her mother pulled off her black sunbonnet. “Gossips are everywhere. I wonder who told him.” She put the hat aside and took down her apron from the hook where she’d previously left it.

  “How did things go at the bank, Mother?”

  “They went as well as could be expected. The Yankees are the only ones who have money enough to make it worth my while to sell. I hate dealing with them, but Mr. Danssen said it was the only way.” She paused, a look of sorrow on her face. “I can’t believe it will soon be gone.”

  “What? The store?” Dianne questioned.

  “The store, your father’s dreams. He chose New Madrid because it offered such hopes for growth. He was sure it would soon rival Memphis as a port on the Mississippi. Now he’ll not be around to see that happen, and neither will I.”

  “But the boys will be safely out of harm’s way,” Dianne said, hoping this would help her mother put aside her sorrow.

  “Yes, that’s true,” her mother agreed. “I know that would please your father. He couldn’t abide the idea of them joining either side.” She looked beyond Dianne to the door. “Have your brothers returned from Otis’s farm yet?”

  “No. They said they’d most likely be gone all day.” Dianne put the lid back on the peppermint jar.

  “I think we should go ahead and close the store,” her mother said, surprising Dianne. “We’ll have more time to complete our packing if we don’t have to worry about customers.”

  “I think that’s wise, Mama.”

  Her mother nodded and went to the door. Locking it, she turned the sign to CLOSED and squared her shoulders.

  “You get back to work with your sisters. Oh, and pack your own things as well. I told your sisters this and now I’m telling you: take your woolen skirts. The book says they’ll wear and travel better than anything else.”

  Her mother’s ability to take charge took Dianne by surprise. She nodded, knowing it was important to let her mother do so. “How many skirts should we take?”

  “I think we should pack four apiece for you and me. Most folks might think that extravagant, but I call it sensible. I don’t want to be doing laundry every night. We can lay them flat under the mattress, as I plan to have a small bed in one of the wagons. I’m not of a mind to sleep outside as most folks will. The skirts will be added cushioning.”

  Dianne nodded and shifted uncomfortably at what she had to ask. “I don’t have four black skirts, Ma.”<
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  “Well, I have no time for dyeing clothes. You and your sisters have paid your respects. It won’t hurt for you to leave off with mourning. No one’s going to care in the uncivilized West, and no one in the East will know.”

  Relief coursed through Dianne, but she said nothing. She wanted to take no chance at offending her mother. Not now.

  “Take your best blouses,” her mother continued. “Not your fanciest— just your best. The finer quality the material, the better. Our clothes will have to last the trip and not wear out on us before we make it through. We’ll take bolts of material with us and if they don’t sell, we’ll have fabric for making new clothes.”

  “But neither of us knows much about sewing,” Dianne spoke without thinking. “Just embroidery.”

  Her mother frowned. “Then we’ll have to learn.”

  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.