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Then you really would be sick.Heather was able to bite back the retort she wanted to make. “That wouldn’t be good for you.”
After supper, Heather got her mother back to bed, but didn’t linger, even when her mother begged her to read to her. Why her mother couldn’t read to herself was beyond Heather.
She would have happily done as her mother needed for the rest of her life if she’d truly been ill, but knowing the truth, made it difficult to tolerate staying with her.
As soon as she closed her mother’s door, Heather sat down at the table with a piece of paper and a pencil, quickly writing her mother a note.
Mother,
The doctor says you are fine and more than capable of taking care of yourself. I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in servitude to your whims, so I am heading out on my own.
Please don’t look for me. I’m not anywhere you’ll find me, and I think spending the years I have playing hostage to your imaginary illness have given me the right to be happy.
Sincerely,
Heather
She took the note into her room on the off chance her mother would emerge from her own room during the night. After the dishes were done, and everything was as neat as she could possibly leave it, she went into her bedroom and closed the door, and started to pin the different dress pieces together so she would be able to sew on the train.
She set her alarm for six the following morning, planning to make her mother breakfast before she left. She still felt a little bit guilty about leaving, but not too much. She had a life to live.
She made toast with butter and a bit of jam from her preserves the year before. When she finished, she dried her hands, put the note on the table, and she carried her trunk out and down the front steps, which was no easy task. But it was best her mother not know she was going. Heather was certain her mother would be able to talk her out of her elaborate plan.
When Tommy arrived, he helped her put the trunk in the back of his wagon, and the then he drove her to town. “Where are you going?”
Heather smiled. “I’m off on an adventure.”
“One your mother doesn’t know about?” he asked.
“Yes. You’ll want to let the doctor know I’m gone.”
“I will.”
At the train station, he again helped her with her trunk, and she purchased a ticket that would take her all the way to Clover Creek, Idaho. Idaho was one of the newer states, but she could easily find it on a map. She knew it had been part of what was then called Oregon Territory.
And then the conductor called out, “All aboard!”
The words were magic to her ears, and she hurried to the train with her carpet bag over one shoulder. After finding a seat, she glanced out the window for one last glimpse of the only place she’d ever called home.
She immediately took her dress pieces from her carpet bag and started stitching them together. Idle hands and all that. She would have work to do the whole way to Idaho, where she would begin a new life as a wife and hopefully one day be a mother. Why, she even looked forward to meeting her future mother-in-law. It would be glorious.
Chapter Three
“Next stop Clover Creek, Idaho! Next stop Clover Creek, Idaho!” the conductor’s voice rang out, waking Heather. She’d finished her dress just as it turned dark the previous night, and now it just needed to be ironed. Hopefully she would have time to do that soon.
She gathered her carpet bag and stood, looking out the window at the beautiful valley she found herself in, with small mountains surrounding it. Well, she wasn’t sure if they could be classified as small mountains or large hills, but it was one of those, and she liked the idea of mountains.
She’d never been a person to do anything just to be healthful, but the idea of climbing one of those mountains was taking root in her mind. She wanted to do it! Perhaps Patrick would enjoy hiking. She would find out when she met him.
When she stood to get off the train, she felt stiff in every bone of her body. She’d only been up to get water and to take care of her necessary business and to change trains since leaving Beckham. She wasn’t sure she had any muscles left, but if she did, she would use them to get off the train and onto the platform. Hopefully, Patrick would be waiting for her.
When she stepped off the train, she looked around, but there was no man looking like he was waiting for someone to arrive. Then a middle-aged woman appeared beside her. “Are you Heather?”
Heather nodded at the woman who looked to be a bit older than her mother. “Mrs. O’Brien?”
“Yes, that’s me. Patrick is waiting in the wagon.”
“Oh, I have a trunk as well as my carpet bag.” Heather looked at a large man who looked very intimidating at the top of the wagon waiting on the street.
