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“You are my Lord,
    All the good things I have come from You.”
    â€” Psalms 16:1-2

Chapter Eight
    May 5, 1863
    T hey were on their way! Clarissa felt more joy than she’d known in many, many months, shadowed only by the occasional stab of pain at realizing she’d never seen Chad since the day she read the letter from Susan. How strange that any human being could so suddenly walk away from his own wife and child without looking back. She realized Chad Graham’s selfish, insensitive nature was her best aid in putting the man behind her and leaving him there forever. If only she and Sophie didn’t have to carry the man’s name—and if only she could find it in her heart to truly forgive him. Her heart was too injured for that. God would have to understand that some things were impossible for the human heart.
    For now it was time to look only forward, not back. The first three days of travel brought enough excitement to help her forget the reason she was doing this. From now on little Sophie need never suffer stares or hear lies about her mother and father and the trumped-up reasons some people had probably decided caused the divorce. God surely had a plan for hers and Sophie’s lives, and heading for Montana was part of that plan.
    Everyone on the wagon train was in a wonderful mood. For the first part of the journey there would be plenty of places to stop, even places to stock up on more supplies. It would be a good month before they would have cause to watch for Indians or worry about running out of something. The biggest immediate problem would be crossing rivers. Old Zeb had told them that even the normally shallow Platte River could be very high this time of year.
    Clarissa decided not to worry. For now, the countryside smelled wonderful, spring wildflowers blooming everywhere, new grass creating a sea of pungent-smelling green along the well-worn trail that for the most part was flat. The weather remained cool and sunny, perfect for the long hours of walking, and when they camped for a noon break, Sophie and Lena and several other little girls ran through the grass picking wildflowers.
    Sophie’s cheeks glowed and her blue eyes sparkled. Clarissa’s heart soared at the girl’s glee and unfettered curiosity. She was full of questions—“Why” this and “Why” that, “What’s this?” and “When will we get there?” She and Lena were practically inseparable, and having so many other children along made what might have been monotonous days exciting for Sophie and Lena, as sometimes they would ride with another family and sometimes other girls would ride with them.
    Lack of privacy was the one deprivation that took getting used to. Men could just turn their backs or even walk away from the train to take care of necessities. Mothers helped their little girls, and most of the little boys were not bashful about such matters. But because of the danger of getting too far away, women chose not to walk too far for their personal affairs. Instead, they would form a circle and spread out their skirts, allowing a woman inside the circle to take care of business without being seen, and with the other women’s backs to them. After the first two days of getting used to no outhouses, Clarissa and Carolyn and the other women learned to set aside modesty and accept the new way of tending to personals. Clarissa thought how incredibly understanding women could be toward each other at such times, most always ready to help another with children or come up with medical remedies for “female” problems.
    Other than an occasional ride up and down the long line of wagons to check on things or pass information about the trail ahead, Dawson Clements kept to himself most of the time, never taking people up on offers to have a meal with them. They saw Zeb Artis only in the mornings, before he would ride far ahead of them and usually not show up again