‘It ain’t a fairy-tale,’ John said indignantly. ‘It’s true, Cissie, and half the men in town are already preparing to go and get some.’
‘Well, they’re knuckle-heads,’ Cissie retorted. ‘Whoever heard of gold lying around waiting to be picked up!’
Matilda decided to keep out of it, although she guessed it had to be true as Captain Russell had spoken of the rumour a year ago, so she continued to get the washing in. John went off to tether his horse under a tree, he was clearly deflated to find himself in trouble rather than bringing joy and excitement. By the time he’d given the horse water and rubbed him down, Cissie and Matilda were back in the cabin folding the washing ready for ironing.
Cissie started in on him again the moment he came in, admonishing him for leaving his work early because he might have missed some customers.
‘No one wanted timber today,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders. ‘You can’t imagine how it is, Cissie, everyone’s going crazy. Everyone’s looking for a way to get to California.’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t yoked up a couple of oxen and gone yourself,’ Cissie said tartly. ‘Or were you intending to go on that poor horse you’ve already whipped half to death?’
‘Did I ever say I wanted to go?’ he asked, catching hold of Cissie to hug her. ‘Would I leave my darling and my little ‘uns for a bag of gold?’
His tone was teasing and Cissie’s anger faded as suddenly as it had reared up. She responded to his hug and giggled. ‘Well, why did you come home in such a hurry?’
‘Because I thought you might like a ride down there to see all the men rushing into the store to get provisions and tools,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
Over coffee they discussed it further and finally decided it was much too late to go now, but they’d go first thing in the morning instead. Cissie had a great many jars of jam and preserves left from the previous autumn she could take in to sell, and by morning there would be at least a dozen freshly laid eggs too.
‘Maybe I could sell my wagon to someone,’ Matilda said thoughtfully. It had been laid up at the sawmill ever since she arrived and until now she hadn’t imagined anyone would ever want to buy it.
‘I’m sure you could,’ John agreed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. ‘Horses and mules are fetching a high price. I wish I had a couple of spare ones to sell.’
They talked of nothing else but gold all evening, John listing people they knew who were preparing to leave, and the gossip he’d heard about each of them.
‘Jonas Ridley’s wife is hopping mad,’ he said. ‘They said she reckoned she would take up with another man if he left.’
Cissie snorted with laughter at this for Mrs Ridley was a plain, fat woman with five children and known to be a terrible nag. ‘I don’t reckon she’ll find many wanting to hop into Jonas’s boots,’ she said.
Matilda told them how Captain Russell had predicted that folk would go crazy if the whisper was true, and that in his opinion the smart people would let the fools rush off to start mining and they’d sit back and think of ways to provide goods or services to make a more certain fortune.
John looked thoughtful at this. ‘Maybe I could supply timber for pit props and the like’ he said.
‘You aren’t going off and leaving me,’ Cissie said quickly.
John smiled at her anxious expression. ‘I’ll never leave you,’ he said. ‘This is my home and here I’ll stay. I’m gonna be one of those smart folk like Matty’s captain talked of, I’ll figure out a way to make a few bucks out of this gold without ever leaving Oregon.’
It was those words of John’s which stayed in Matilda’s head long after they’d all turned in for the night. She couldn’t for the life of her see how John could organize any business with miners from such a great distance away. She thought only the man on the spot would get orders for timber, tools, building work and the like.
Oregon City had gone crazy, just as John had reported, and it was clearly extremely infectious, for although the men who were jostling, pushing and even fighting each other to buy picks, shovels and firearms at the stores came mainly from cabins up in the mountains and outlying farms, even the steady, sober residents who had established homes and businesses in town for some years appeared to be caught up in the madness. Anyone who had anything remotely appropriate to sell was out offering it. The blacksmith had a large sign outside his forge reminding people to get their shoes shod before they left, at the clothing store a table had been set up outside with piles of flannel work-shirts and pants for sale. Brisk business was being done by horse and mule traders, the general store had long since run out of tents, and a missionary was standing on a wooden box proclaiming to deaf ears that chasing gold was the road to ruin.
The saloon was packed to the doors, women stood around in groups twittering, many as wild-eyed and excited as their men who were intending to leave them, others crying pitifully and clutching babies to their breasts as if convinced their world was about to end.
After being in town for an hour or two Matilda was no longer so sure which side of the fence she was on. Although it did seem crazy for these men who had struggled across America to claim land, then worked so hard to clear it and grow crops, to suddenly up and leave, expecting their women and children to cope alone, she sympathized with them. Farming was a laborious way to make money, for most it would be years before they could make enough to move their families on from a shack to a real house, and perhaps too they even missed the excitement and adventure they’d experienced on the trail coming out here.
She too felt that yearning for sudden riches – a nugget or two of gold would be enough to start a small business, become independent, and maybe realize those dreams she had for her children.
By midday she had sold her wagon for sixty dollars to four men who intended to start the 630-odd-mile trek to San Francisco the very next day. If she was going she’d take the quicker sea route, and be first in line to stake a claim, but she didn’t voice this, just in case it made them change their minds about buying the wagon.
Yet on the way home Matilda didn’t dare admit she understood this rush to the gold fields for fear of coming between Cissie and John. She sensed that whatever John said, he was very tempted to go. Like her, he’d probably worked out for himself that only timber merchants there would get the orders. Clearly Cissie suspected he was torn because she kept up a barrage of scorn for the men who were abandoning their families.
Matilda thought her friend’s insecurity was understandable. She had been abandoned as a child, and until she met and fell in love with John she’d never dared look ahead even one day. Now she had what she saw as a perfect life, and she wasn’t going to allow anything to threaten it.
The children and Cissie were all worn out after their long day out, and after they’d gone to bed and John was smoking his pipe on the porch, Matilda slipped out to join him. An idea had come to her during the ride home, but she didn’t want to raise it in Cissie’s hearing.
‘You could do with an agent in San Francisco,’ she said in a low voice, hoping Cissie wouldn’t overhear her. ‘Someone you could trust to take orders for timber, and perhaps collect the money for you.’
John looked at her in some surprise, clearly he hadn’t realized her mind was also on California. ‘That thought came to me too. But I can’t find anyone without going there,’ he said. ‘Even if Cissie was agreeable for me to go, who would look after the sawmill? Sidney’s a good lad, but he isn’t experienced enough to handle it alone. I guess I’ll just have to wait a while until someone approaches me to supply them down there.’
Unlike his wife’s, John Duncan’s appearance hadn’t changed since Matilda first met him in Independence. His beard was a little bushier, his sandy hair a touch thinner, but he still looked what he was, a sober, hard-working, muscular man. Yet in the last six months Matilda had come to see that he was more than just one of life’s plodders, he was smart, ambitious and farsighted. While most o
f the pioneers looked only to their immediate needs – rich, fertile land, a gentle climate, an abundance of wildlife and enough raw materials to build snug little cabins – he saw way beyond that.
He had often voiced a fear that scenically beautiful Oregon with its mountains, forests and wide rivers could easily be spoiled if someone didn’t make a stand soon to prevent haphazard building by ruthless speculators. But to be able to have a voice in this place he’d come to love, to get the carefully laid-out towns he envisaged, with fine houses, schools and hospitals, he knew he needed to make his sawmill the most successful in the area, or no one would listen to him.
Matilda took a deep breath. ‘I could go for you,’ she blurted out. ‘I know I don’t know anything about timber, but you could give me samples to show around. I could go and see all the builders and carpenters and find out where they get their supplies from. You’d only need a few big orders to start with, then when they saw the timber was good, and you were reliable, you’d be bound to get all the repeat business.’
John turned to stare at her, his eyes almost popping out of his head in surprise that a woman could think of such a thing.
‘You couldn’t do that,’ he said in a shocked tone.
‘Why not?’ she shrugged. ‘Because I’m a woman? I drove a wagon two thousand miles on my own. I was selling flowers on the streets from a child and I’m a mean bargainer. I’ve got to find some sort of work soon so I can look after my children, so why not work for you so all of us could benefit?’
‘Cissie wouldn’t like it,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Do you mean she wouldn’t like me working for you, or that she’d object to looking after my children while I’m gone?’ she asked.
‘Of course Cissie wouldn’t mind looking after the children,’ he said quickly ‘She just wouldn’t want you to go away, she’d be afraid for you. It could be dangerous down there for a woman alone.’
‘But she knows I’ll have to go somewhere, sometime,’ Matilda said evenly ‘Better for me to do something which would help you two get rich than me getting a job in a store or something. Anyway, I can’t see that going to California would be any more dangerous than coming out alone on the trail here.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said, frowning and scratching his head. ‘I thought you were like Cissie, thinking they were all fools rushing off down there.’
‘I do think the folk who believe they’ll find bucket-loads of gold just lying about are fools,’ she laughed. ‘But what we saw today must be going on all over America and there’ll be millions of those fools trekking out there. Just imagine John, every one of those men will need wood for something, whether it’s for houses, carts, or just plain old stuff to burn on their fires. I don’t know if there are forests in California like there are here, but you can bet your boots that if someone jumps in and has a supply of ready-cut timber ready to build with shipped straight down to the nearest port, they are going to buy it rather than taking time off to find a closer supply’
John leaned his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. Matilda guessed he was so stunned at her idea that he couldn’t think straight.
‘Think about it for the next day or two,’ she urged him as she got to her feet to go back inside. ‘I could do it, I know I could. I’d take a boat because it’s quicker that way. Get you orders and come back fast. You could give me a percentage on them. I hate the idea of leaving Tabitha and Amelia even for a couple of days, but if it worked out real good, who knows, I might be able to move on down there and take them with me.’
She left him then to mull it over.
Early on Sunday morning two days later, as Matilda was down at the stream filling up the water pails, John came down to join her. He had said nothing more about her idea, and she knew he hadn’t spoken of it to Cissie because her fiery friend would have had something to say on the subject.
‘I think your idea could work,’ he said, taking one of the full pails from her. ‘I’m going to put it to Cissie this morning.’
Matty looked up at him. He looked tired, with circles beneath his eyes, obviously he hadn’t been sleeping very well, but he had a look of determination too, and she knew he’d thought it through carefully. ‘Shall I disappear for a bit?’ she asked.
‘That’s a good idea,’ he said and grinned. ‘Better still, take the children with you.’
Matilda grinned back, she guessed he intended to soften Cissie up with love-making. ‘I’ll give you two hours,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget to impress on Cissie that it could mean making enough money to eventually build a house in town.’
Much as Cissie loved her little cabin, she was a city girl at heart and missed seeing people every day. Matilda thought that would be her scheme’s best selling point.
Matilda packed Amelia and Susanna into the little cart John had made for them and with Sidney pulling it behind him, Tabitha and Peter giving it the odd push to help over rough ground, and Treacle running excitedly around them, they set off along the well-trodden path up through the woods behind the cabin.
‘Why did Uncle John want us to go out?’ Tabitha asked almost as soon as they’d left. Although she was delighted to have a break from the usual chores she was too bright not to think there was something suspicious about it.
‘Because he wants to talk something over with Cissie,’ Matilda replied. She realized then she must tell Tabitha about it before they got back, and bring her round to the idea.
She waited until they’d got right up to a little glade half a mile from the cabin. Sidney had strung a length of rope from a tree there the previous summer and he leaped on it eagerly with Peter begging him to help him swing on it too. Leaving Amelia in the cart, she lifted Susanna out to play on the soft, lush grass, and put a blanket down to sit on.
‘Come and sit with me for a minute,’ she said to Tabitha. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
It was very reminiscent of the day she told Tabitha about her expected baby. Like then, the child made no real protest, but her eyes were mournful.
‘I wouldn’t leave either of you if there was a better alternative,’ Matilda said. ‘But I have to make some money to make a real home for you and Amelia. Maybe Aunt Cissie will refuse – you see, she’ll be frightened of me going to California on my own. But sooner or later I have to do something. It isn’t right for us to depend on Aunt Cissie and Uncle John for ever.’
‘Can’t I come with you?’ Tabitha asked in a small voice.
Matilda shook her head. ‘I don’t know what it will be like there. It might be tough enough for me to find somewhere to stay without having a child with me. I shall come back just as soon as I’ve got some orders for Uncle John. The longest part will be the boat rides either way.’
‘Auntie Cissie said the other day that you ought to find yourself a husband.’
The prim tone of Tabitha’s voice and her pursed lips were a sudden and sharp reminder of Lily.
‘Is that what you’d like?’ Matilda asked.
‘Not unless it was Captain Russell,’ Tabitha replied. She half smiled then, and Matilda saw she wasn’t angry, only a bit sad.
‘Well, Captain Russell hasn’t come a-calling, so I reckon we have to forget him,’ Matilda said regretfully. It had surprised her how often she thought about him, and she was very disappointed he hadn’t come to find her, as he’d become such a dear friend. But as he hadn’t even written, clearly he’d forgotten her. ‘Anyway, I’m not going to marry someone just so they’ll take care of us. I reckon I can do that myself.’
Tabitha asked a great many questions, most of which Matilda couldn’t answer, all she could do was explain again that Aunt Cissie might not let her go anyway. ‘But if I do go, you must promise me you won’t worry, and that you’ll look after Amelia.’
‘Of course I’ll look after my sister, but I might not be able to help worrying.’
Matilda hugged her tightly. ‘You must always remember that I love you. I know I’m no
t your real mother, but I think of you as my real daughter, just like Amelia. We’ve been through such a lot together, Tabby, and you are so very precious to me.’
‘I love you too, Matty,’ Tabitha said, reaching out and touching Matilda’s face tenderly.
‘I wouldn’t go so far if there was any other choice,’ Matilda explained. ‘But if you still want to be a doctor, I’ve got to find the money to send you to a school.’
‘Sidney won’t like you going either,’ Tabitha said, looking over to where he was swinging Peter on the rope. ‘He loves you too.’
‘I think he’ll understand,’ Matilda said. ‘He had such a hard time as a little boy that he knows people have to do things they don’t always want to, just to get by.’
Tabitha sighed. ‘I know you are only going for me and Amelia,’ she said in a tight little voice. ‘But that won’t help when I’m missing you.’
Matilda held the little girl tightly and bit back tears. Tabitha had been through so much, but she took it all without complaint. Silently she vowed to herself that come what may, she’d give the child what she deserved.
Two weeks later Matilda waved goodbye to her friends and children from the deck of a small tramp-steamer bound for San Francisco. She had two changes of clothing, timber samples and price lists from John in a carpet-bag, but her heart felt as if it were being torn from her. John held Susanna in his arms, Amelia was in Cissie’s, Tabitha and Peter were standing either side of Sidney, and they were all waving frantically, but she knew that except for the three youngest who couldn’t know the significance of the parting, each one of them was offering up silent prayers for her safety, success and speedy return.
At first Cissie had been horrified at the suggested plan, her weeping protests centred mainly on her fears for her friend, but eventually as she began to see the logic of the idea, she came round. It was she who insisted Matilda must look like a lady of quality if she was to be successful and suggested they went through the box of Lily’s clothes and press them into service. Matilda was now wearing Lily’s dark green wool cloak trimmed with velvet and the matching bonnet. Beneath it was a dark grey dress with a lace collar. The hooped petticoat felt uncomfortable and restricting, and without Cissie’s insistence she would have left it off, but she supposed it was a small price to pay for the elegant figure she cut in the looking-glass.