Chapter Four
Trepidation grew inside Grace, clawing at her chest as she watched the bubbling stew continue to cook.
It was a pleasant orange-brown color, and it had a faintly herbal scent.
That was all she could say about it. Father had employed a cook on his staff, so Grace had not had to make food for herself in years.
In the months leading up to her marriage to Charles, Grace had of course learned to cook properly, but she had always had the benefit of a well-stocked kitchen and a proper stove.
Cooking in the wilderness was another matter entirely.
Emily, at least, was free from any anxieties, laughing and running around the wagon, clapping her hands together as she scrambled over the rocky terrain.
“Be careful!” Grace exclaimed.
Emily didn’t listen. If anything, the child seemed to run faster.
Grace glanced around for help, but found no one nearby.
It was nightfall, and most of the travelers were either cooking their own meals or tending to the animals.
Her own father had joined a few men in fixing a damaged wagon wheel. She was alone.
“Emily!” Grace pleaded.
“I’m going on an adventure!” Emily yelled, still laughing as she raced around the wagon.
Grace gave the stew one more quick glance, then had no choice but to hurry after her daughter. Seeing Grace giving chase, Emily squealed and took off in a run, her short legs stumbling over the ground.
“Be careful!” Grace cried. “You might fall!”
At last, she caught up to her daughter and scooped her into her arms. Emily flailed, laughter still streaming from her throat. Grace focused all her energy on keeping the energetic child from falling onto the rocky ground.
“Mama!” Emily whined in protest when Grace refused to put her down.
Grace’s blood ran cold. She looked around to see if anyone was near enough to have heard, but most of the group was far out of earshot. Even if they had been closer, the night was loud with wind that howled like wolves and the bustle of conversations around campfires. They were safe.
“You mustn’t call me that,” Grace whispered.
Emily went still in her arms, her face falling. “I forgot,” the child mumbled.
“I know,” Grace replied, sighing. “But it cannot happen again. I’m so sorry, but this is how it has to be until we reach Oregon.”
She hefted Emily farther up onto her hip and carried the child away, her steps slow and measured.
“I need you to sit while I—” Grace cut herself off abruptly as the bitter smell of burnt meat filled her nostrils. “Oh no!”
She placed Emily onto the ground and tried stirring the stew, but blackened char rose from the bottom of the pot.
Grace groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.
All the judgmental looks and snide remarks from their companions in the wagon train loomed large in her mind.
She knew how people on the trail felt about her, and she imagined this mishap would only serve to prove them right.
When faced with a challenge or dismissal, Grace’s instinctive response was always to prove that person wrong.
It seemed as though tonight, however, she was not capable of doing that.
She rubbed the heels of her palms roughly over her face, biting back the impulse to do something foolish out of frustration.
Grace only raised her head when she heard footsteps approaching.
Father took a look at the stew and gave a helpless shrug. “The taste might be questionable, but I suppose it will be edible.”
“High praise,” Grace muttered.
“We knew this would not be easy.”
Grace laughed in disbelief. “I know, but I didn’t expect to fail at something as basic as cooking stew.”
Emily craned her neck to see into the pot. “I don’t see what’s wrong!”
“It’s just a little burnt,” Father said. “But you know…Amos may have said earlier that there was no turning back, but we have only traveled a day. I’m sure we could journey back on our own with little difficulty.”
Grace shook her head. “No. I still want to do this, and you should, too.”
“I would be content with returning to our life in Lexington. Do not use the business as a justification for this plan of yours.”
Grace swallowed. “I’ve told you, you truly do not have to come with me.”
That sounded like a feeble defense, even to her own ears. She was standing beside a pot of ruined stew, bubbling over and badly charred, after having to frantically chase down her willful child. At least Emily had not been hurt.
“I won’t go back without you,” Father said. “What kind of father would I be if I did that?”
“A reasonable one?” Grace offered. “A man who realizes that he has already given his daughter more than she deserves?”
Father only snorted at that. “Don’t presume to tell me what you do and don’t deserve. You’re a good daughter and an admirable woman. You deserve the best of everything, and there is no shame in having it!”
But there was.
They stood in silence, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, until the sound of footsteps drew their attention away from one another. A tall, willowy woman with brown hair pulled back neatly under a pale floral bonnet stopped beside them.
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she said as they looked to her.
Father removed his hat and bowed stiffly, like he was greeting some well-regarded, wealthy lady, and not a woman who was likely accustomed to rough living.
“You aren’t interrupting at all. My daughter and I were just discussing the journey.”
“Of course,” the woman said, smiling at Grace. “I saw you running after your daughter earlier.”
“Sister,” Grace corrected reflexively. Her heart raced, the lie burning on her tongue.
Emily grasped the back of Grace’s leg, hiding behind her skirts. A jolt of fear shot through Grace that Emily might reveal something, but the child remained silent.
“Oh, my mistake,” the woman said. “Anyway, I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hannah Walker.”
Walker? Grace knew that last name. She glanced at the woman, trying to find any resemblance between her and that Ethan Walker from earlier.
There was something in the woman’s face that was indeed vaguely reminiscent of Ethan’s own features.
His sister’s face was more delicate, but Grace did see some resemblance. Their eyes were the same color, too.
“Richard Hawthorne. And these are my daughters, Grace and Emily. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It is good to meet you all, as well.” Hannah smiled wryly and glanced at the stew. “Was this your first time cooking out in the frontier?”
Heat rushed to Grace’s face. Maybe the warm light of the flames would hide some of her embarrassment, as Grace had no doubt that her cheeks were probably the most unsightly shade of red, like a woman who had put on far too much rouge.
“It was,” Grace admitted.
“Poor thing,” Hannah said. “Why don’t you join my brothers and me for dinner? We have plenty of food.”
“That is mighty kind of you,” Father said.
Grace looked away, embarrassed by her father’s quick agreement. Ethan had already told her that the trail would be harder with a child, and the last thing Grace wanted was to prove him right by showing up at his campfire on the first night because of her lack of cooking ability.
Hannah shrugged. “It’s the neighborly thing to do, and I imagine we will all be as close as neighbors by the end of the journey.”
Hannah gestured for them to follow her. Grace picked up Emily and put her on her hip before glancing at Father, who shook his head.
“I’ll dispose of this stew and join you in a little bit.”
“We’ll save some for you,” Hannah said, pointing to her wagon. “My brothers are just over there.”
They stood too far away to make out any details, just two dark figures seated on opposite sides of the flames.
“I will meet all of you there,” Father said.
Hannah smiled, nodded, then turned jauntily on her heel to lead the way. Grace followed at a short distance. With every step, the lump in her throat grew thicker and heavier. What if she really couldn’t do this?
Grace had known all the risks, of course. In preparation for the journey, she had read everything she could about the Bozeman Trail and what dangers to expect, but she had just proven herself incapable of even cooking a basic meal. Grace sighed deeply.
“Is something the matter?” Hannah asked.
A flutter of embarrassed laughter sprang from Grace’s throat. “Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.”
Hannah gave Grace a quizzical look. “About sighing?”
“No, I mean that you have invited me to have dinner with you and your brothers. I don’t want to be depressing company.”
“I understand. Well, you’ve just had a little cooking mishap! Anyone would be a bit disheartened by that.”
“I should not be having cooking mishaps,” Grace said. “I’m a grown woman.”
“What a silly thing to say! Even the best of us makes mistakes!”
“She doesn’t cook much,” Emily added innocently.
Grace winced.
“Oh!” Hannah exclaimed. “And you thought to try on the trail? No wonder you had some trouble. Anyone without much experience would.”
“Well…”
“If you’d like, I can teach you,” Hannah offered. “After a few months together on the trail, you’ll be an expert!”
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be a burden to you?”
“Nonsense!” Hannah exclaimed. “Truth be told, you’ll be doing me a favor. I mentioned that I’m traveling with my brothers, who I love dearly, but sometimes I just really wish to talk with another woman.”
Grace nodded. She’d had few female friendships herself in the recent past. Shortly after they had married, she hadn’t thought much of Charles wanting to keep her all to himself.
Grace had simply assumed that her husband was enthusiastic about them finally being wed, and it was only expected for a young, newly married man to be protective of his wife.
But in hindsight, Grace thought she had perhaps missed something important when Charles had kept her from spending too much time with anyone else, even other married women.
She had lost touch with most of her friends and the other women in Lexington, and after she had returned to her father’s house, she’d been too proud and too tired to rekindle any of those old relationships.
But now…maybe Hannah could be a friend. With enough time spent together on the trail, maybe she would even be a real friend, one who didn’t look at Grace like she was a discarded woman to be pitied.
“I’m traveling with just my father and Emily,” Grace said. “It would be…nice to speak with another woman. You’re right.”
“You’re already making friends!” Emily exclaimed, laughing.
“Indeed,” Grace agreed.
As they approached the fire, Hannah’s brothers both turned to look at them.
Grace noticed Ethan immediately. He was seated to the left, eating a bowl of stew.
Its fragrant aroma filled her nostrils with a warm and pleasant scent.
Her mouth watered, her hunger overwhelming the humiliation of having cooked something so terrible herself.
“Ethan,” Hannah said, gesturing, clearly prompting him to greet their guests.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He gave Grace a curt nod but said nothing.
Grace forced a smile. She wondered if he’d also noticed her running after Emily, and what he might say if he learned of her cooking disaster.
That was precisely what Ethan needed: more reasons to believe that Grace was unprepared for this journey.
“And Derek.”
Hannah’s other brother bolted to his feet and grinned broadly.
Derek swept into an exaggerated bow, which Grace supposed was meant to be charming.
Instead, he vaguely resembled a vaudeville character, but his enthusiasm was so infectious that her lips twitched into a smile.
He was young and gangly, barely a man, and she found herself wondering if Derek would resemble Ethan more in the coming years.
As it was, the pair barely looked similar to one another, aside from both of them having brown hair and hazel eyes.
She tried not to get distracted by how handsome Ethan was. Grace had no business noticing something like a man’s physical appearance. For that matter, why would she even be interested in a man after how much Charles had put her through?
“Pleased to meet you!” Derek exclaimed, bringing Grace back to the present moment.
“Thank you.”
Hannah filled two bowls of stew, offering them to Grace and Emily as they found seats by the fire.
“You don’t look like you’re from around these parts,” Derek said, sitting back down. “Where are you from?”
An irritated look crossed Ethan’s face, but he said nothing. Grace imagined that he was thinking she ought to go back to where she’d come from.
“Lexington,” Grace said, deliberately turning her body towards Derek as she spoke. She was not so rude as to tell Ethan that she found him needlessly condescending, but she would still make her opinion clear.
“I’ve never been there,” Derek said. “Is it nice? It’s in the mountains, isn’t it?”
“Not exactly,” Grace replied. “The mountains are a little further east.”
“I have heard the Appalachians are beautiful,” Hannah said dreamily. “Smaller than those out west, though.”
“This is the best stew ever!” Emily exclaimed, interrupting their conversation.
Grace tried a spoonful, and her tongue was soon alight with the warmth of carrots and salted meat, which mingled with the sharpness of basil and some other spice she couldn’t discern. Agreeing to cook with Hannah would definitely prove to be worth her while.
Grace would be able to show everyone—her father, Amos, even Ethan—that she had what it took to survive out in the frontier. She might look like some delicate, sheltered lady, but they would soon see she was made of much sterner stuff than that.