Wed On The Wagon Train. Tracy Blalock
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livery was her first stop.
Stepping into the dim interior, she searched out the stable master. He accepted without comment her explanation that she was a young man running an errand for the Prescott sisters, and he promised to have the oxen hitched to the wagon and delivered to the boardinghouse first thing the following morning.
Their supplies had remained loaded in the covered wagon, and all that was left for them to do tomorrow was add the trunks of personal items, which still needed to be packed back at the boardinghouse.
She’d left Adela there alone without explanation and had been gone longer than she’d anticipated. The younger girl must be frantic by now. Mattie felt terrible for causing her sister additional fear and worry, after the last ten days of uncertainty they’d already gone through since their father’s passing.
As she neared the boardinghouse, her steps slowed. The livery had been easy, but this next part might prove more challenging. While a strange male roused little suspicion in a stable, his presence wouldn’t go unquestioned in a genteel rooming establishment.
But she’d come too far to lose her nerve now.
Straightening her shoulders, she turned the knob on the front door. The hinges squealed as the heavy oak door swung open. She winced and swept a furtive look around. Seeing neither the landlady nor any of the other boarders, she quickly headed toward the stairs. All the way up to her room, she expected to hear a voice behind her demanding to know why she was skulking through the house. But she didn’t encounter anyone.
She opened the door to her room and stepped inside, a sigh of relief gusting out of her tight chest.
Adela was bent over an open trunk, a silver-backed hairbrush in her hand. She glanced up as the door clicked shut. Her eyes widening in fright, she let out a high-pitched shriek.
“Shh, Adela.” The last thing they needed was someone bursting into their room to investigate.
She took a step toward her sister.
But the other girl backed away. “Don’t you come any closer, or I’ll scream again,” she warned, brandishing the hairbrush as if it was a sword.
“Adela, it’s me.” Removing her hat, she set it on the marble-topped bureau.
“Mattie? You scared me to death!” The hairbrush slipped from her fingers, and she placed her hand over her heart. Then her mouth dropped open as she took notice of Mattie’s altered appearance. “What happened to your hair?!”
Mattie fingered a short lock. She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know what she’d see—ragged chunks cut close to her head, instead of the long brown curls that had reached almost to her hips.
Adela plopped down onto the bed. “And why are you dressed like that? Those look like Papa’s clothes.” Tears filled her eyes at the mention of their father.
“These are Papa’s clothes.” She dropped her hand from her shorn strands, refusing to mourn anything as silly as hair. The loss of their beloved father was much more significant. The pain throbbed like a physical wound, but she kept a tight rein on her emotions. Though they’d buried him little more than a week ago, she couldn’t wallow in grief. “I came up with a way for us to reach Oregon Country.”
And she’d acted quickly, not giving herself time to rethink the daring plan and change her mind. After hacking off her hair, she’d changed into her father’s clothes. He had been taller and broader than Mattie, and the garments hung on her. But the loose material helped to disguise her feminine figure.
Adela wiped a tear away and shook her head in confusion. “How can we do that? Two females can’t travel alone, Matilda. You know that.”
“You seem to be missing the fact that we aren’t two females anymore. Matt Prescott, at your service.” She executed an exaggerated bow.
“Do you really think you’re going to fool anyone with that ridiculous getup?”
“I fooled you, didn’t I? Or was it someone else who screamed and threatened me with a hairbrush when I entered the room?”
Adela colored at the reminder. “You surprised me. I would have realized it was you in a moment or two.”
“True. But you’re my sister. A stranger won’t know me from Adam. I was out most of the morning dressed like this, and nobody doubted I was a man.” Though to be completely honest, Josiah Dawson was a disturbing question mark on that point. However, he hadn’t confronted her, and that was good enough for now.
She hoped her disguise would hold for the whole journey, but once they were out on the trail, surely the wagon master would have to let them stay, even if her gender was revealed.
“I still don’t think your plan will work,” Adela argued.
“It already has.” She opened a bureau drawer and started pulling out garments, then moved to her trunk and tucked the items inside. Though she’d have little use for the feminine clothing in the coming months, once they reached Oregon Country she’d be glad to have them. Her father’s clothes, except for the pants and shirt she wore, were packed away in another trunk. “The wagon master’s agreed to let us—or to be precise, ‘Matt’ and his sister—join his group.”
“So that’s why you left the table in the middle of breakfast. I did wonder over your abrupt departure, but I never imagined you’d come up with such a harebrained scheme.”
Mattie turned toward her sister. “Do you have a better idea? We’re paid up through the end of the week, but after that we don’t have the money to pay for this room.”
“We could sell the covered wagon, oxen and supplies, couldn’t we?”
“Yes, but the cash we’d receive wouldn’t last forever. When it ran out, what would we do? How would we support ourselves?”
“One of us could find a husband and get married.” Adela’s curls bobbed up and down as she nodded her head, the chestnut strands shimmering in the stream of sunlight spilling through the window.
She made a stark contrast to Mattie right now.
“I doubt any man would want to take me as a wife, looking like this.”
But it was no great loss since she didn’t particularly want a husband anyway. At least, not right now. If circumstances forced her to marry in haste, she wouldn’t have a chance to truly get to know her bridegroom first. To place herself and Adela completely under a man’s power without being absolutely certain of his character was unthinkable.
Mattie had made a narrow escape back in Saint Louis and wouldn’t make the same mistake again, judging a man by outward appearances without taking the time to discover if the inside matched his outer facade.
Hopefully her fifteen-year-old sister had learned from Mattie’s error, as well. “Do you want to marry a strange man and put your trust in him?”
The younger girl shook her head, clearly recognizing the pitfalls in that arrangement.
Mattie grasped her sister’s hands. “This is the only way.”
But Adela still looked doubtful. And with good reason.
Though their biggest obstacle—convincing the wagon master to let them join the wagon train—had been overcome, any number of other things could go wrong in the coming days.
Even if no one else knew it, they were two women alone, with only God’s protection against whatever dangers they faced.
Would she and Adela be up to the journey ahead?
“It’s not too late to change your mind, Mattie.”
Adela’s words echoed Mattie’s inner doubts as she surveyed the wagons and oxen