The previous owners had added lots of extras that she would never have thought of. There were pockets in the canvas to put small items in, the base of the bed was a deep box for more storage, it even had a little table and two stools with foldaway legs for eating meals on, and there was a camping stove on legs too, which Solomon said was the latest thing. Even the water containers hanging all around the wagon were included in the price.
Mrs Treagar had given her an old feather mattress and put in new ticking. Almost everything else they needed like pots, plates and cutlery had come from their old home. The remains of Lily’s little treasures and pictures, Giles’s Bible, his watch and a few special books he treasured were stored away under the bed along with the sacks of flour, dried beans, rice, molasses, a huge lump of bacon and other essential provisions. They’d kept the good quilts, blankets and bedlinen, but everything else, including the horse and gig, had been sold off to buy the wagon. She’d given away most of Lily’s everyday clothes after the flood, but she’d kept the more elegant ones thinking they could be made into things for Tabitha. Baby Harry’s layette was packed away too, she felt sure Lily would want the baby to use them.
Twenty-five seedling fruit trees took up the most room, but they were their gift to Cissie and John. They were planted tightly together in a strong tray and wrapped around with sacking to keep the roots moist.
The four oxen had been the biggest expense, and the yokes cost twenty-five dollars, but with luck she could sell them off when she got to Oregon, and she still had thirty dollars left.
‘Are you sad to be leaving?’ Tabitha asked.
‘A bit,’ Matilda admitted.
‘Because we can’t talk to Mama and Papa any more?’
‘We can do that wherever we are,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m sure their spirits will be coming with us to watch over us. And you mustn’t worry about no one looking after their grave, Mrs Treagar and Solomon said they’d put flowers on it for us.’
‘We had happy times here,’ Tabitha said wistfully. ‘There were so many nice people. Do you think they’ll be nice in Oregon too?’
‘I know they will,’ Matilda said firmly. ‘So go to sleep now, we have an early start in the morning.’
‘Chain up, chain up!’ Captain Russell’s yelling voice woke them at first light.
Matilda wriggled down the bed, looked out the back of the wagon and saw other people were already up and about. She pulled on her dress and rammed a straw bonnet on her head without even combing her hair.
‘Quick, Tabby,’ she said. ‘We can worry about washing and doing our hair later.’
Solomon’s training had worked, for she had the oxen yoked and chained well before anyone else. She was just about to climb up on to the driving seat when Captain Russell came riding along on his piebald horse.
‘Howdy, Mrs Jennings,’ he called out, reining in his horse for a moment. ‘I’ll let you go second in line as you seem so set on being up front, but if you can’t keep up a good pace I’ll have to drop you right back.’
He was the main topic of conversation among the women in town for they all thought him very dashing in his army uniform, and were dying to know if he was married. He was at least six foot tall, slim-hipped with long fair hair, bright blue eyes and a droopy moustache. Matilda guessed him to be about thirty, though it was hard to tell as his face was nut-brown and he had crinkles round his eyes from being in the sun. She agreed with the other women that he was an unusually attractive man, but she didn’t like his caustic manner, or his unnerving way of studying people silently.
She also knew she was starting out with a big disadvantage. He hadn’t wanted her to join his train, he had said it was no place for a lone woman and a child. It was really only Solomon speaking up for her that finally persuaded him to agree. Although he appeared to have come round a little since then, she sensed he was deeply prejudiced against her, and that he would always be waiting for her to make mistakes. On top of this she was terribly afraid that he might have found out more about her in the last few days. She had told him that she was a widow, travelling with her step-daughter to friends in Oregon. Pretending to be a widow was a common precaution for single women to avoid male advances, but if he had learnt about the Milsons in town, and then saw her belly growing larger, who could blame him for thinking the worst of her?
But she was determined not to let such thoughts trouble her today, so she gave him a beaming smile. ‘Don’t you worry about me not keeping a good pace,’ she said. ‘I’m in a hurry to get to Oregon.’
Dr Treagar had said the Government were requisitioning army officers to escort wagon trains because their presence would encourage more immigrants out to Oregon. It seemed the Oregon territory was still owned by the British and America wanted it. As they saw it, the more Americans settled on the land, the less likely the British were to hold fast to it. Matilda didn’t much care who owned Oregon, or whether the man who would lead her there approved of her. She was just pleased to be under the command of someone who knew a great deal about the territory they were going to cross.
‘Make sure you drill your daughter not to jump off the wagon while it’s moving,’ he said, looking over at Tabitha who was playing with Treacle. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, ma’am, but I’ve seen children’s legs crushed under wheels. You be careful now.’
‘I will,’ she agreed. Solomon had already warned her about that.
‘Don’t be too proud to ask for help if anything goes wrong either,’ he said, tipping his hat back on his head and grinning at her. ‘Though I guess from what I’ve seen of you so far that won’t come easy!’
She wasn’t sure if that was intended as a compliment or sarcasm, but she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him. ‘I’m not too proud to take advice,’ she said, and smiled sweetly. ‘I’ll bear what you said in mind.’
Matilda and Tabitha were seated up at the front, reins in hands in readiness for the signal to pull away when the Treagars came along in their gig.
‘I brought you some ready-cooked food,’ Mrs Treagar called out, holding up a basket. ‘There’s a nice big chicken pie, ham and boiled eggs. That should keep you going for a few days.’
They climbed down from their gig and came over to Matilda. ‘There’s a box of medicine in there too,’ the doctor said with a wide smile. ‘Quinine, laudanum, hartshorn for snake bite, citric acid for scurvy, and a mess of other things. I’ve labelled what they are for. Make sure you wash any cuts or abrasions with boiled salted water, and keep them covered until they heal. If everyone did that I’d be almost out of a job.’
He had already given Matilda a little book about doctoring, and she guessed she was now probably better equipped than most people on the train.
‘Make sure you wear gloves and sun-bonnets all the time,’ Mrs Treagar said, looking anxiously up at Tabitha, perhaps noting she hadn’t brushed her hair this morning, ‘or you’ll look like field hands by the time you get there. Write to us, won’t you? We’ll send any letters for you on to your friends.’
Matilda hadn’t heard a word from Giles’s family yet. Under the circumstances she hoped she never would.
She jumped down from the wagon and gave Mrs Treagar a hug. Her feelings for this woman during the stay in her home had see-sawed between affection because she reminded her of Lily, gratitude for her generosity, but more often, irritation at her primness and bigoted views. She wouldn’t even use the word ‘pants’ but referred to them as ‘nether garments’. To her Indians were all savages, black people needed to be owned by someone as they couldn’t look after themselves, and all men, with the exception of her husband, and perhaps clergymen, were to be treated with the utmost caution. Yet now she was leaving, Matilda felt only affection for her.
‘I’ll never forget how kind you’ve both been to us,’ Matilda said, a lump coming up in her throat. ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you.’
Mrs Treagar embraced her warmly, whispering that she hoped they could put
all the sadness behind them. Then letting her go she took a step back. ‘Now, remember to behave like a lady at all times,’ she said with her more customary primness. ‘You must set a good example to Tabitha. Giles and Lily entrusted her into your care and you must always keep in mind their strong religious convictions and make sure Tabitha reads the Scriptures and says her prayers.’
To Matilda’s relief any further lectures were prevented by Captain Russell blowing a whistle to signal they were to start rolling. She kissed the Treagars, watched them hug Tabitha too, then they both leaped up on to the wagon, quickly followed by Treacle.
The inevitable band of missionaries began singing a hymn, banging drums and clattering tambourines, the scouts galloped forward, waving the first wagon to move, and all at once it had started.
Matilda flicked the lead oxen with the tip of her whip, just as Solomon had instructed her, and the oxen dutifully lurched forward, the others following meekly.
As the wheels began to move, Matilda breathed a deep sigh of relief.
‘Goodbye!’ she yelled, waving back to the Treagars. ‘We’ll never forget you.’
It was very easy going for the first few hours. The path along the river was worn smooth by previous trains and the oxen plodded along behind the lead wagon needing very little guidance. The spring sunshine felt warm on their faces and aside from the rumbling of wheels, it was quiet and even soothing. Yet however pleasant it was to sit up here beside Tabitha knowing that every mile put the heart-breaking memories further behind them, she was also very aware that from now on their survival and safety depended on her entirely.
When she wrote to Dolly and Lily’s and Giles’s families to tell them of his death and her promise to take care of Tabitha, it hadn’t seemed appropriate to mention that they had intended to be married. Telling them later, and that she found she was expecting his baby, was out of the question, for it might very well have sounded as if she was using him as a scapegoat, knowing he couldn’t deny it. Whether they believed her or not, either way they’d be appalled, and they would immediately see her as immoral and an unfit guardian for Tabitha, perhaps taking steps to remove her from her care.
Dolly had written back, the letter arriving just before they left, but her tone had been surprisingly cool. She said she thought Matilda should let the grandparents take responsibility for Tabitha, and that a single woman couldn’t bring a child up alone. Although she once again said she would always have room for her should she decide to come home to England, she also pointed out that situations available for women were very limited and she thought America offered more opportunities. She finished up the letter telling her she was feeling very poorly herself, and that as the previous summer’s weather had been very poor not many people called at the tea gardens. Overall Matilda felt Dolly was trying to say that she had enough problems of her own to cope with and didn’t want to be burdened with anyone else’s.
But bigger than her sorrow at knowing she must cut herself off from all old friends, and the fear of what might be ahead of her, was her anxiety about how to break the news of the baby to Tabitha. Just the thought that she might lose the love and trust of the little girl made her eyes suddenly brim with tears.
‘What’s wrong?’ Tabitha asked in alarm.
‘Nothing at all.’ Matilda wiped her eyes on her sleeve and did her best to smile. ‘I guess it’s just after all the preparations, the goodbyes and everything, just sitting up here watching the countryside go by gives me too much time to think about things.’
‘Like what?’
It would be easy enough to say she’d had a wave of grief come over her, for they’d both had those so often, but as Matilda glanced sideways at the child she saw Tabitha’s dark eyes, so like Giles’s, were studying her closely. Right from when she could first speak she had questioned everything, now at eight she couldn’t be fobbed off easily, she was too bright. All at once Matilda knew there would never be a right time to tell her the truth, so she might just as well tell her now and get it off her chest.
‘I’ve got a secret, Tabby,’ she said. ‘It’s a very big one, and I haven’t been able to tell you before because back in Independence if anyone found out they would think badly of me. I want to tell you. I must tell you because it’s very important. But it’s going to be very hard to explain it to you.’
Tabitha frowned. ‘Have you done something wicked?’
‘I don’t believe it is, but some people might,’ Matilda said. She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going to have a baby.’
Tabitha just laughed, her small face lighting up with merriment. ‘Don’t be silly, Matty. I know you can’t have a baby unless you are married.’
Matilda sighed, all at once aware she was going to be forced to explain a great deal more than she’d bargained for. Having been brought up herself in a close, crowded community where adults seldom married legally and bawdy jokes about sex were bandied around even in front of children, from a very early age she’d had a rough idea of adult love and how babies were made. But Tabitha’s upbringing had been so very different, there were a great many taboo subjects in genteel society.
‘Did you know there is a special kind of cuddle which men and women have that makes babies?’ she asked.
Tabitha looked a bit embarrassed. ‘Sort of,’ she whispered.
‘Well, they are supposed to wait until they get married before they do that,’ Matilda said. ‘But when a couple fall in love they want to do that kind of cuddling, because it’s all part of loving one another, and just sometimes they can’t stop themselves doing it, even though they aren’t married yet.’
Tabitha looked perplexed, but said nothing.
‘That’s what happened with your papa and me, Tabby. We were planning to be married. If he hadn’t been shot we would have been, but before he went off to St Joseph we had that kind of cuddle.’
There was no reply to this, no gasp of horror, nothing.
Matilda waited, fully expecting that once Tabitha had time to consider this, she would turn on her and say she was disgusting.
Yet she didn’t. A tear trickled down her cheek and she looked at Matilda with mournful eyes. ‘Did Dr Treagar know?’
Matilda shook her head. ‘I couldn’t tell anyone, not even him, because they would have thought I was a bad woman and said nasty things about your papa. That’s why I decided we would go to Cissie’s, she’s the only person I know who will understand and help.
‘But you know I’m not a bad woman, don’t you? You know too that your papa was intending for us to get married. We would have loved to have given you a baby sister or brother. You would have liked that too, wouldn’t you?’
Tabitha nodded again.
‘So does it really matter to you that your papa didn’t manage to marry me?’
Everything hung on that one question, and Matilda held her breath waiting for the child to answer.
‘No, it doesn’t matter to me,’ she said with a sigh. ‘You are my Matty, just like always, and it will be nice for us to have a little baby. But who will look after you? Mama couldn’t do anything much for herself when Harry was coming, and Papa always made all the plans.’
‘Widows have to manage by themselves, and so shall I. Cissie will help us in Oregon when the baby is born.’
Suddenly Tabitha’s face crumpled. ‘Mama died having Harry. What if you do too?’
Transferring the reins to one hand, Matilda slid her arm round the little girl and drew her close to her. ‘I’m not going to die,’ she said. ‘I’m much stronger and younger than your mama. But now we have to talk about the rest of the secret.’
She carefully explained that she had said she was a widow to Captain Russell and that Tabitha was her step-daughter. ‘It’s not such a big lie,’ she said. ‘It’s how I see us. You are my step-daughter, and I feel like a widow. But I didn’t dare say my name was Mrs Milson just in case anyone on this wagon train knew different. So I’ve got to be Mrs Jennings for now, and you must be Tabitha Jennings. Do
you mind that?’
‘No.’ Tabitha half smiled. ‘But what am I going to say if anyone asks about my papa?’
‘We’ll have to think that one out as we drive along,’ Matilda said. ‘What would you like him to be?’
‘A doctor,’ Tabitha said without any hesitation. ‘Then I can tell people that’s what I’m going to be too. But hadn’t you better put mama’s wedding ring on your finger? I know Mrs Treagar said you must keep your gloves on, but if you do take them off people will notice you haven’t got a ring.’
Matilda was stunned by the little girl’s adult observation, and very touched that she wouldn’t object to her mother’s ring being worn.
‘That’s a very smart idea,’ she said, smiling down at Tabitha. ‘And if you really don’t mind, I’ll get it out when we stop at midday.’
The mild dry weather lasted for eight days. Each night when the wagon train stopped there was good grazing for the beasts and plenty of water as they were following the river, and they were covering some twenty miles each day because the trail was so smooth and flat. Everyone on the train was in high spirits, including the women who had looked so doleful back at the start but had cheered up. Even fording the river brought no problems as the water level was low.
After dark the campfires made a pretty sight, one old man who played the fiddle was very much in demand, and people danced jigs, and sang joyously. For Matilda and Tabitha it was like a holiday, time to talk and laugh together, sharing chores and talking about the future rather than looking back with sadness. When Tabitha happily ran alongside the wagon with Treacle close at her side, or splashed in the river as they filled the water containers, Matilda felt a sense of elation that she was giving her back the childhood she had been in danger of losing for ever.
But on the ninth day the rain came, and suddenly everyone discovered the less attractive side of living out of doors. For Matilda and Tabitha up at the front, the sudden softening of the ground proved no real obstacle, but by the time ten or twelve wagons had passed over it, the later ones were sticking in the churned-up mud and the pace slowed right down.