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Next, she eyed the battered round topped hat that had been her brothers. It was a good hat that would keep the weather off as they trekked westward, but it wasn’t lady like. She knew that most women would be wearing sensible bonnets.
Stepping to the mirror, she pulled the hat on over her intricately braided golden hair.
“You look like a boy,” she chided herself adjusting the hat and examining her narrow face in the mirror. She had nothing memorable in her looks, but her usual smile won friends at least most of the time.
“Daliah,” Mrs. Hampton’s voice drifted down the hall. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Daliah hurried back to her bed and began packing everything into a canvas bag. Mr. Hampton had been moving supplies to the wagon he’d purchased all week and in one more day they would be leaving Smithfield forever. Tucking the tiny tintype photo of her parents into the smaller leather bag, she hurried to the kitchen to help with the meal.
Daliah stopped at the end of the hall in shock as a tall man stepped through the front door, removing his hat from a head of shimmering chestnut hair, while his other hand held to a boy’s arm.
Mr. Hampton, who was holding the door, offered his hand. “Mr. Gaines, so glad you could make it. I appreciate your help with the wagon and wanted to thank you with a proper meal before we leave.”
“I’m obliged,” Mr. Gaines spoke, his eyes traveling the small space and coming to rest on Daliah standing in the hall.
“This is Daliah Owens, our boarder,” Mr. Hampton offered, closing the door and gesturing Daliah into the room. “Daliah’s going with us to see that these crazy old folks can manage,” he added with a smile. “It’s one of the reasons our children aren’t having too much of a fit.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Daliah said, smiling at the boy but noting the harsh look on the man’s face as his eyes traveled to her head.
She’d completely forgotten she was wearing her brother’s hat and quickly hurried to take it off unveiling her golden locks. “I’m sorry I forgot all about that,” she blushed. “It was my brother’s.”
“Gimmee, gimme,” the little boy said, breaking loose of his father’s hand and snatching the hat from Daliah’s hands. Daliah gasped as the boy squashed the hat onto his own head, covering nearly half of his face at the same time.
“This is Chad,” Mr. Gaines spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, like a warm drink on a cold day. “Give that back Chad.”
The boy of about five shook his head making the hat dance and swivel.
“It’s not yours, so give it back,” he said more harshly.
Slowly the boy pulled the hat off of his head and handed it back to Daliah who thanked him sweetly. “I’ll just put this up,” she said awkwardly, feeling flustered as she hurried back to her room where she quickly combed out her hair and fastened it into a respectable knot at the back of her neck.
Smoothing her skirts, she took a deep breath and headed back to the kitchen. As first impressions went her first meeting with Mr. Gaines, a man she would obviously be traveling with, had not gone well. She hoped that the second would be better.
Smiling brightly Daliah entered the kitchen moving quickly to help Mrs. Hampton put the finishing touches on dinner. The older woman had done her best to cook a feast, claiming that they might as well eat up perishables that they couldn’t take with them as let it go to waste.
Both women gasped and turned as a loud clatter of cutlery echoed through the room and their eyes fell on the little boy who stood grinning at the pile of silverware he’d dumped onto the floor.
“Chad, don’t do that,” Mr. Gaines barked heading to the boy just as Daliah reached him and began picking up the mess.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll just wash them, and then we’ll eat” Her eyes met his and for a moment all the air seemed to leave the room as her chest grew tight. He was a very handsome man.
“Chad you sit down,” the man growled, “I’ll clean this up.” His hard eyes bore into Daliah as if expecting her to argue, but she didn’t. Instead she smiled and helped the boy into a chair.
“Are you hungry?” she asked and the boy nodded, swiping a sleeve under his nose with a sniff which Daliah ignored. “Mrs. Hampton is a very good cook, and I’m sure you’ll like what she makes. I heard something about pie for dessert if we eat all of our dinner,” she added noting the way the boy’s eyes lit up.
The clatter of cutlery in the sink made Daliah cringe as she settled the boy and poured him a glass of milk. “Let me just help your father, and then we’ll eat.”
Rolling up her sleeves Daliah stepped up to the taciturn man. “I think it best if I finish this,” she said pointedly.
“Spencer you come on over here and get out of the way,” Mr. Hampton called helpfully as he took a seat at the small table. “Olive don’t like me in her kitchen, so’s you’d best move.”
Spencer Gaines looked down at the pert young woman next to him and nodded stepping away from the sink where she was pumping water. He had no place in a kitchen and he knew it. He was more at home out on the prairie, or traveling. If his brother hadn’t asked him to come to Texas, he probably would have been looking toward Oregon or California.
He looked down at his son who was now sitting at the table listening to a story Mr. Hampton was telling. The scamp was always into something. The boy had a knack for finding trouble. It wasn’t going to be easy keeping an eye on him on the drive to Texas. At least once they got there the boy would have plenty of room to grow.
Mrs. Hampton turned, placing a plate of roast beef and vegetables on the table, then turned back to the stove for biscuits. The smells were making his mouth water. He’d jumped at the chance for a real dinner when Mr. Hampton invited him. The old man was a cheerful sort and seemed determined to go on this trip.
Spencer looked up as the young woman, Daliah her name was, placed a fork and knife at his elbow with a smile. He thanked her politely, but hoped in the long run, the girl would stay out of his way. He had no room for women in his life after losing his wife.
Chapter 4
Excitement filled the air as one by one wagon rolled into line on the outskirts of town. It was a small wagon train headed for Texas on rumors that there was a need for people in the Lone Star state after the war.
Mr. Hampton, his wife perched on the bench seat next to him, pulled his team of fine horses to a stop at the back of the line and waited for Daliah to climb out of the wagon bed.
“You got everything stowed?” Mrs. Hampton asked, her cheeks rosy with the thrill of finally starting out.
“Yes, nothing seems to have wiggled loose on the short drive. I think we’re squared away.”
“I hope we have enough?” Mrs. Hampton mused.
“I hope we don’t have too much,” Mr. Hampton grumped.
The banter between the two always made Daliah smile. She was happy to be leaving Smithfield and all of its unpleasant memories behind. A new start was what she needed. She hoped that others wouldn’t see it as her running away. Quietly, she looked toward the blue skies above and whispered a prayer for the journey.
Mr. Gaines trotted up along the wagons checking in with each family, Chad seated on the saddle in front of his father, his little face sticky from a sweet he was eating.
“Mr. Hampton, Mrs. Hampton,” Spencer greeted as he pulled up next to their wagon. He’d put them at the end of the train in a position to move slowly. Although Mr. Hampton had one of the best teams in the train, the majority of the travelers had teams of oxen and this way Mr. Hampton wouldn’t need to keep slowing his team but could meander along behind the line of wagons at his own pace.
From the corner of his eye Spencer saw the young woman pull her floppy wide-brimmed hat onto her head and had to smile. It wasn’t conventional, but he liked her determination to wear the hat in honor of her brother just the same.
“Wagon’s Ho!” echoed down the line from his partner in this endeavor and Spencer turned his horse back toward th
e front of the line, wrapping and an arm around his son and galloping toward the quiet gray haired leader that everyone called Ben. It was time to get moving.
***
“Pa how’s come that one woman wears a funny hat?” Chad asked as he held to the saddle horn along the trail.
“I think it has some sentimental value to her or something,” Spencer replied scanning the horizon for signs of their first stopping point.
It was early spring and the weather, though cold, was fine and clear of any snow. The journey looked promising to start at least. For Spencer this would be his final trail. His brother had written telling him that the tiny town where he lived had plenty of land and hope to offer.
“What’s semi-mental mean?” the boy asked making Spencer chuckle. Even with his mischievous ways, the boy could always make him smile. “Sentimental, it means it has feelings attached to it. Something she cares about because of her memories,” Spencer said.
“Like my blanket mama made,” Chad said nodding his understanding.
Spencer swallowed down the anger in his chest and nodded. “Yes, like the blanket your mama made you.” He didn’t like to think of his late wife. Even after three years he felt the sharp pain of loss. Rebecca had been a good wife and a good mother, but she had not had the strength to survive pneumonia.
Since her death, Spencer had found it hard to settle anywhere. He’d moved Chad five times in the past three years, each time growing discontent with his situation and moving on. Several times taking on a trail drive or leading a wagon train for sections of a trail while his son stayed behind with family or friends.
Perhaps Texas would be the answer. Perhaps he’d find a place where he could finally put his aching heart to rest. His brother Dan felt it was the right move. Having family about might even make settling down easier.
“Pa, you think if I offer to help that lady, I might get another slice of pie when we stop tonight?” Chad asked hopefully.
“You leave those folks alone,” Spencer chided. “You’re not their responsibility.” He didn’t know how he would keep the boy out of trouble on the long drive, but he also wanted to avoid the rather attractive young woman traveling with the Hamptons.
The boy turned his dirty face up to look at his father, but didn’t say anything. Spencer knew that his word was not the end of the boy’s thoughts on the matter.
As the wagon train spread out across the plains Spencer tried to settle his mind. It had largely been his idea to travel south. He’d mentioned it to a few people in town and soon he’d gathered nine families with wagons for the train.
Most of the group was made up of people who didn’t want to, or couldn’t afford to, make the trail to Oregon, and were eager to see if Texas was where they belonged. Spencer looked forward to seeing more of the land. He only wished he’d have some time to let Chad down to play.
Evening came quickly and Spencer was glad when Mrs. Hampton offered to take Chad while he rode the camp checking in on others. He knew the boy would be well fed and hopefully stay out of trouble. He’d probably eat with the Hamptons as well seeing that their fire was at the edge of camp.
When Spencer returned to the Hampton wagon, the first thing he noticed was his son enjoying a thick piece of leftover pie with the younger woman of the group. He shook his head even as his stomach grumbled while he swung down from the saddle, heading for the fire.
“You’re just in time for dinner,” Mr. Hampton said, handing the man a plate. “You finish that up and Daliah might even have a piece of pie left for you too. She makes a mighty nice pie.”
Daliah turned at her name seeing Mr. Gaines look up with a smile that caught her by surprise. He didn’t seem the sort who smiled often.
“I’m all done,” Chad said, looking up from the bucket where he’d been washing his hands as she’d instructed. “Can I go play now?” he turned to his father this time waiting for his nod before charging off into the circle of wagons looking for other children.
“You did real good keepin’ an eye on that little fella,” Mrs. Hampton sidled up to Daliah with a dish rag and began drying dishes as Daliah washed. “I think he’s going to need someone looking out for him, with his father busy all the time.”
“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Daliah agreed knowing that Mrs. Hampton had already decided to take the boy under her wing.
“Good, between us we should be able to keep him close about. I wouldn’t like to see him wander off and get lost or something.”
“How many miles did we make today?” Mr. Hampton asked Spencer who was now drinking coffee by the fire enjoying a left over piece of pie as he listened to the night sounds around him.
“About fifteen, which isn’t bad. We may get a few twenty mile days in if the weather stays good. The stock is fresh and the air is cool.”
“Twenty miles a day,” Mr. Hampton mused. “That’d be a nice start.”
“It’s good to be out and moving again. It takes a lot to get a train like this going and once it starts the best thing is to get settled into the daily routine and keep marching.” Spencer said. “Trust me though, you’ll be sick of it soon enough.”
“Probably true,” Mr. Hampton agreed, then jumped to his feet as his wife cried out in pain.
“Olive, what’s wrong?” he asked hurrying toward her as Daliah wrapped a towel around his wife’s hand.
“Oh, how careless of me,” Mrs. Hampton cried. “One day on the trail and I cut my hand something terrible.” She peeled the towel away to peek at the pool of blood in her palm, but Daliah pressed it tight again.
“You take a seat now Mrs. Hampton, you need to keep pressure on this for a bit. Hold it tight and I’ll mix up some honey salve for it.”
Daliah hurried to the back of the wagon while Mr. Hampton helped his wife take a seat on a crate, patting her back soothingly.
A few minutes later Daliah smeared a mixture of honey, salt, and fat onto the cut and bandaged it up tight. “Don’t you worry about a thing Mrs. Hampton, I’ll take care of the cooking and packing. You look after that hand and see that it heals up properly.”
Spencer watched the interaction between the two women. Miss Owens seemed a capable sort. They needed women like that on a long trail. Needed women like that in the town they were going to. He only hoped she didn’t get in his way as they pushed toward Texas. Most of the people on the train were young families or single men with a few older folks in the mix. It was a small troupe, but if they worked together, getting to the little, no-name town his brother had urged him to get to in Texas shouldn’t take long.
For a moment he wondered where the Hamptons and the pretty Miss Owens would settle once they got to Texas. He knew some folks had kin in different locations, and that they would break off heading to various areas at the end of the line. Shaking his head he cast the thoughts away. He didn’t need any woman interfering in his life.
Chapter 5
“Daliah, I feel terrible for all the extra work you’re having to do,” Mrs. Hampton said the next morning as they organized to leave. You should let me do something,” she said shaking her head.
“You don’t need to do a thing,” Daliah said, smiling at the older woman. “If it weren’t for you, just think where I’d be right now. This is my way of paying you back.”
Mrs. Hampton smiled, nodding her acceptance. For someone so young Daliah had certainly suffered enough loss in her life and then to have insult added to injury at the bank. Olive had been furious when her boarder, a young woman alone in the world, had been dismissed.
The older woman climbed into the wagon adjusting the softer materials and checking that everything was where it belonged with her good hand while Orville and Daliah finished putting out the fire and hitching the team. It was exciting to be starting a new adventure and even if they didn’t like Texas at least they could say they tried. It had been a tearful goodbye with her three sons and their families, but rumors had it that the railroad would be connecting to Texas shortly, any
way. Then they could journey back to visit family or go East to see the sights whenever they wanted.
The sound of a galloping horse made Mrs. Hampton peer out the back of the wagon and smile as Mr. Gaines rode by with his little boy. Those two young men needed a woman to look after them, and if she had her way, before this trek was over, they would have one.
***
Spencer cantered past the last wagon noting that the camp was squared away and the team hitched. He tipped his hat as he rode by but didn’t say anything. He needed to get the lead wagons rolling or they wouldn’t make any time at all throughout the day.
In front of him his sleepy son squirmed and yawned. It was hard on the boy traveling this way. On his last few treks, Chad had stayed with family, but this time was different. This time when he reached Texas, they would settle and stay there.
Spencer would use his pay, and what he had saved to start a new life and put the past behind him. He had been surprised when the whole idea of heading to Texas had taken off with so many, and what he was making helping to lead the train would go a long way toward a new life.
“I’m hungry Pa,” Chad said softly.
“You just ate,” Spencer replied, as he hurried to get the train on the move. His partner Ben was still helping another family get set to roll, and Spencer needed to take the lead today.
“I’ll see if I can get you something in a bit,” Spencer said. “I’ve got some jerky in my pack you can chew for now.”
Chad wrinkled his nose at the thought of jerky but didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned back into his father and closed his eyes against the gray light of a new day.
“Pa, I’m still hungry,” Chad whined a half hour later as the wagons stretched out in a slow moving line past his stationary horse toward the horizon. “You said you’d get me something to eat.”