Chapter One
Lenore Wakesmith braced herself inside
the covered wagon with her small brother held tightly against her
side. The snow-covered pass tested her very core. Thus far, its
trials had not been able to penetrate the strong bond she witnessed
between her father and step-mother, but her own eighteen years of
experience had begun to doubt the wisdom of their
decision.
On their last stop, Father had fallen
and injured his hip, her step-mother was fighting a cold and the
weather had only proven worse. Lenore glanced at the figure of her
half-brother now slumped against her deep in sleep. At least he
didn't seem effected by the negative turn of events.
Their relatives were only three days
away now. Surely they were past the worst.
Whine. Crack!
One side of the wagon dropped heavily,
enough to wake her brother. He rubbed his eyes and looked around at
their slanted surroundings. "What happened, Sissy?"
Before she could answer, Lenore heard
a moan from her father. She had become conditioned to hearing his
release of pain every time he dismounted the wagon, but the
exasperated sigh that followed could only mean one
thing.
Another set-back.
Lenore scrambled to the back of the
wagon and pulled open the flap of canvas. She met her step-mother's
worried gaze before the woman's cough disrupted them.
"Father," Lenore climbed out of the
wagon, "what happened?"
With shoulders slumped, he turned away
and stared at the sky. "Why? What have we done to deserve all of
this?"
Lenore clasped a hand over her mouth
at the sight of their last spare wheel. Its busted remains dusted
the snow and splinters of wood punctured through the crusted
top-layer. Lenore struggled to fight off the desire to fuel all the
reasons they should have waited to travel. In the end, her thoughts
won, but at least they were left unspoken. She knew the last thing
her father needed to hear was another's disappointment in his
decisions.
"Perhaps another wagon will come by
shortly." Her step-mother's feeble voice belied the disbelief in
her own words.
A chill wind swept around them, as if
a premonition of their coming fate. Lenore refused to believe this
would be their end. She was at her prime of life. A family, excited
to meet them, were only days ahead. With their welcome held the
promise of a good job for her father, friends for her step-mother,
school for her brother, and a hopeful marriage for
Lenore.
No, this would not be their end. Not
if she could help it.
"Father-"
"Lenore-"
She and her father both began to speak
at once. They exchanged polite smiles before her father
continued.
"Lenore," he hesitated. "I'm not
capable . . . you are the only one who can . . ."
"I know, Father. I'll go."
***
The forested path became dark with the
loss of daylight. Where was she? How long had it been since the
snow storm confused her direction? The weight of her numb feet made
it difficult to walk. Yet she had no choice but to continue
on.
A blanket of sleepiness enveloped her.
The desire to curl up into a ball and sleep until morning weakened
her reserve. A picture of her family huddled together in their
wagon fueled her purpose. She had to get help.
In an effort to stay alert, Lenore
pictured what life would offer in their new town. She had a cousin
near her age. Would they become friends? Lenore hoped they would
become as tight as sisters. She had never had a sister and always
wished for such a relationship. But oddly enough, none of her
letters had received a reply. She shoved away nagging thoughts of
her cousin not welcoming her arrival.
And what of the possibility of
marriage? Her step-mother had made mention of a couple of possible
suitors. Would any of them take a liking to her? Would she them?
Lenore had often dreamt of marriage, but only a marriage formed of
love. She despised what some families did to their children,
arranging marriages based on uniting wealthy families or
Lenore Wakesmith braced herself inside
the covered wagon with her small brother held tightly against her
side. The snow-covered pass tested her very core. Thus far, its
trials had not been able to penetrate the strong bond she witnessed
between her father and step-mother, but her own eighteen years of
experience had begun to doubt the wisdom of their
decision.
On their last stop, Father had fallen
and injured his hip, her step-mother was fighting a cold and the
weather had only proven worse. Lenore glanced at the figure of her
half-brother now slumped against her deep in sleep. At least he
didn't seem effected by the negative turn of events.
Their relatives were only three days
away now. Surely they were past the worst.
Whine. Crack!
One side of the wagon dropped heavily,
enough to wake her brother. He rubbed his eyes and looked around at
their slanted surroundings. "What happened, Sissy?"
Before she could answer, Lenore heard
a moan from her father. She had become conditioned to hearing his
release of pain every time he dismounted the wagon, but the
exasperated sigh that followed could only mean one
thing.
Another set-back.
Lenore scrambled to the back of the
wagon and pulled open the flap of canvas. She met her step-mother's
worried gaze before the woman's cough disrupted them.
"Father," Lenore climbed out of the
wagon, "what happened?"
With shoulders slumped, he turned away
and stared at the sky. "Why? What have we done to deserve all of
this?"
Lenore clasped a hand over her mouth
at the sight of their last spare wheel. Its busted remains dusted
the snow and splinters of wood punctured through the crusted
top-layer. Lenore struggled to fight off the desire to fuel all the
reasons they should have waited to travel. In the end, her thoughts
won, but at least they were left unspoken. She knew the last thing
her father needed to hear was another's disappointment in his
decisions.
"Perhaps another wagon will come by
shortly." Her step-mother's feeble voice belied the disbelief in
her own words.
A chill wind swept around them, as if
a premonition of their coming fate. Lenore refused to believe this
would be their end. She was at her prime of life. A family, excited
to meet them, were only days ahead. With their welcome held the
promise of a good job for her father, friends for her step-mother,
school for her brother, and a hopeful marriage for
Lenore.
No, this would not be their end. Not
if she could help it.
"Father-"
"Lenore-"
She and her father both began to speak
at once. They exchanged polite smiles before her father
continued.
"Lenore," he hesitated. "I'm not
capable . . . you are the only one who can . . ."
"I know, Father. I'll go."
***
The forested path became dark with the
loss of daylight. Where was she? How long had it been since the
snow storm confused her direction? The weight of her numb feet made
it difficult to walk. Yet she had no choice but to continue
on.
A blanket of sleepiness enveloped her.
The desire to curl up into a ball and sleep until morning weakened
her reserve. A picture of her family huddled together in their
wagon fueled her purpose. She had to get help.
In an effort to stay alert, Lenore
pictured what life would offer in their new town. She had a cousin
near her age. Would they become friends? Lenore hoped they would
become as tight as sisters. She had never had a sister and always
wished for such a relationship. But oddly enough, none of her
letters had received a reply. She shoved away nagging thoughts of
her cousin not welcoming her arrival.
And what of the possibility of
marriage? Her step-mother had made mention of a couple of possible
suitors. Would any of them take a liking to her? Would she them?
Lenore had often dreamt of marriage, but only a marriage formed of
love. She despised what some families did to their children,
arranging marriages based on uniting wealthy families or
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