A Prairie Rose

Chapter 1

I stretched out my legs, still glad to be able to rest my feet now. Though no longer as dirty, my feet were still scabbed, my boots having fallen apart weeks earlier from the brutal trek. Pa had said it would be good for us- free land, he said. Plenty of space for a homestead. Plenty of animals to hunt, whereas the wild animals further to the East from which we had come were few and far between, scared away by the houses being built quickly now, one after another. 

And, foolishly, I had agreed- in my head, of course. Children did not get opinions on such matters. But I had agreed only because Ma had. Only because she had seemed so happy at the thought of getting away from the crowded city- to have a real, true home to herself, where you didn't have to watch the skies for a chamber pot being emptied, or your feet for the waste left scattered across the street from horses, or dirty water runoff, or the mud that seemed to trail after you everywhere.

But we never should have come. The horrible, awful journey had taken Ma away- away to Heaven, Pa said. But I wasn't sure he believed that. I had seen the devil in his eyes as Ma's unknown illness had gotten worse as we continued West- we were too far to turn back. So we had pushed onward, hoping to come across a home or shelter or even a Native medicine man who could help treat Ma.

We hadn't come across a single soul. We had buried her just about near the far border of Idaho. As well as we could, anyway- the ground was still cold then, and it had been hard for Pa to dig far into the earth.

That devil hadn't left his eyes since Ma got ill. And the bottle of whiskey hadn't left his lips. Just when I thought there was no way he could have another stored away in the wagon somewhere, he always managed to pull yet another one out. I suppose it was silly of me to be surprised- Pa had always drank a lot. But it was worse now that Ma was gone. His temper was sharper, his hand quicker to lash out at me.

But here- among the tall, swaying grass of Oregon, the tall, lush trees, and the flowing river, I felt almost safe. It was silly, I knew- we had heard wolves howling every night we had been here, and twice now Pa had scared them off by firing a shot into the air. But sitting against the wheel of our big covered wagon, with my bare feet against the soft Oregon dirt, my toes brushing against the tall grass- I felt safe. After so long, we had arrived at our new home.

How I wished Ma were here to see it. She'd have loved it. 

Or... she would, when Pa would finally get to work, building the new house for us to live in. He had promised Ma it would only take a few weeks to complete- cutting down the trees was the hard part, he said. But the two of us had been camping out here for going on a week now, and he hadn't downed a single tree- he hadn't even reached for his axe, which I had pulled out from its box days ago, laying it out in plain sight in case he had forgotten our whole reason for coming out here.

The free land came with a catch- you had to lay claim to it. Build a house, a barn, a homestead; something to prove it was truly yours. If you just had a wagon, someone could come and build a house just beside that wagon, and claim that you were trespassing on their land.

And yet Pa just sat there. Staring. Drinking. And, as the sun fell lower in the sky, cussin and slamming things. So that was when I scurried away into the far end of the wagon, sleeping on the long front stool that Pa sat on to lead the horses on the way here.

At least we still had our horses- Billy and Betty. They had recovered from the long journey more quickly than I had, which I found impressive since they had done most of the hard work. 

I glanced up at the sky- it was still early in the afternoon. Pa had only woken an hour or so earlier. Though he was already sipping on a bottle, I knew he would be in a better mood now than he would be as the day got later, and he drank more.

"You know, Pa," I began carefully, watching his reaction to my words. He didn't turn to look at me, and I felt my shoulders relax a bit. Little girls were to be seen and not heard, most of the time. With Pa, I never could seem to tell when those times were.

Feeling a little brave now, I went on. "I sure can't wait until we have a kitchen. Then I can make us nice, warm meals."

I had hoped that my words would push him into action- give him something more to hope for out here on the West than a bottle of alcohol. But didn't turn to look at me- he just brought the bottle to his lips for a sip.

"Pa?" I tried again. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Another sip. Another moment of silence. 

Sighing, I looked down at the dirt below me- my dress was almost as brown as it was, after such a long journey. I hadn't changed out of it since Ma died- not even to bathe. Undoing the buttons around the back was too hard without her help.

"Some corn and rabbit stew," I whispered quietly- more to myself, now. My mouth watered at the thought. "With parsley and lima beans and pepper. Wouldn't that be nice?"

All we had eaten for so long now was dried foods and hardtacks, with the occasional warmed meal of beans when I could start a fire well enough for it, and bread when I got the dough to rise correctly. 

I was surprised when there was sudden movement behind me- I flinched, knowing that Pa moving so suddenly always meant I had done something wrong, and was in for a lashing. 

But he didn't strike out at me- not this time. Instead, he moved past me, reaching into the wagon and pulling out his axe and gun. 

"Yeah," He muttered, his tone still empty and his mouth formed into a hard line. Still, he nodded at me. "That would be nice, Rose. Have coffee made for me when I get back. And mend my other coat- it's near the back of the wagon."

With that, Pa was gone, heading out towards the larger trees just a few hundred feet away. And I couldn't help but smile as I turned to set the pot down on the fire. 

Soon, we would have a real home again.