Shirley Kennedy

Wagon Train Cinderella


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bit as faded and ill-fitting as the other one. She slipped it on, wishing she had something better to wear. She put on her boots, which Florida had set by the fire to dry, and laced them up. Luke was nowhere in sight. After thanking Florida for her help, she walked along the riverbank back to her family. The wagon that got stuck had been towed from the water and sat safely on the shore. By the time she reached it, her moment of revelation about her looks had faded from her mind. How could she possibly look anything but ugly in this horrible, ill-fitting dress? How could she possibly have thought a man as handsome and desirable as Luke McGraw could feel anything other than sympathy for a plain servant girl?

      Everything was a mess. Pa was nowhere in sight. Various and sundry items from the wagon that had gotten wet were laid out haphazardly to dry. Her stepsisters were trying to build a campfire. They were choking and fanning themselves as billows of smoke blew in their faces.

      “Callie! Where have you been?” Nellie cried.

      Lydia stuck out her arm to show an angry red burn near her wrist. “Look here. I burnt myself trying to do your job.”

      Ma appeared. When she saw Callie, she jammed her fists to her hips. “Where have you been? Look at this mess. Where were you when we needed you? Now Lydia has burned herself, I’m exhausted and Nellie…”

      She rambled on, piling everything that went wrong that day directly on Callie’s head. “Now go fix supper and get caught up on your chores.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Callie listened humbly, head bowed. What trouble she had caused? She was truly sorry… But wait a minute. What, actually, had she done wrong? Why was she being blamed for anything? Hadn’t Luke and Florida praised her for saving Tommy’s life? She started to turn away then turned back again. “About Tommy—”

      “Mister McGraw came by and told us what happened.” Ma paused, like it was an effort to force the words out. “So I suppose you weren’t directly to blame, but that doesn’t mean you should shirk your chores.” Ma gave her one more scathing glare and walked away.

      Callie resumed her work, quiet as always, the little mouse grateful to be working for her keep. Inside, though, an emotion totally foreign to her began to brew. How dare Ma say those things when all I did was save Tommy from drowning? How dare she talk to me that way?

      Soon the habits of a lifetime took over. Being of an agreeable nature, she couldn’t stay angry for long. What good would it do her? Besides, wasn’t she grateful the Whitakers had taken her in? Given her a roof over her head? Of course she was, so she shouldn’t even think of complaining and, most of all, she must remember her place.

      Chapter 4

      Pa was gone for a long time. When he returned, he gathered his family and hired hands together. “I’ve been meeting with Colonel Ferguson and his captains.” He paused, appearing reluctant to continue. When he did, he seemed to be forcing each word from his mouth. “I have decided we will not make the journey alone. We will join the Ferguson wagon train.”

      Both Lydia and Nellie squealed with delight, prompting Pa to scowl. “No more outbursts. There’s nothing to be pleased about. I made my decision with grave misgivings.”

      Ma looked genuinely puzzled. “Why did you change your mind, Caleb? You were so sure you wanted to travel alone.”

      “It’s with good reason I didn’t want to join. Before they set out, those wagon trains draw up constitutions. They elect officers. They’ve got all kinds of rules and regulations you’ve got to obey.”

      “You never were much on obeying the rules.”

      “Dang right I’m not. I don’t care to answer to any man, but we’ll join up with Ferguson because there’s safety in numbers.” He addressed his daughters. “You will avoid contact with the lowlifes in that train as much as possible. Do you understand?”

      Ma looked doubtful. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

      “It’s done. We won’t discuss it.”

      Judging from the firm clamp of her stepfather’s jaw, Callie knew the conversation was over. No one dared say another word. Pa’s way was the right way. When defied, his anger could be very ugly indeed.

      In a somber mood, they traveled back down the riverbank and camped alongside the Ferguson wagon train. That night there was no community campfire, no merry fiddle and lively dancing. Everyone was exhausted from the demands of the difficult river crossing. Only when Callie crawled into the tent and heard her stepsisters’ ecstatic chatter did she realize how happy they were they wouldn’t be traveling alone.

      Even Nellie, ordinarily so unexpressive, could hardly contain her excitement. “Just think, I shall be traveling all the way to California with that good-looking Coy Barnett. That’s weeks and weeks! By the time we get there, he’ll be madly in love with me.”

      “Don’t be so sure, sister dear. Every girl in the company must be after him, the ones who aren’t after Magnus Ferguson. He’s a great catch. A widower, you know, and rich besides.”

      “Do you like him?”

      Lydia’s voice brightened. “Of course, I like him. He’ll be eating out of my hand by the time we get there.”

      “What do you think of Luke McGraw?”

      “He’s rude and unfriendly. I don’t like him.”

      “Ha! That’s because he didn’t dance with you.”

      Usually Callie wanted to close her ears to her stepsisters’ silly conversation. Not tonight, though. She, too, thought of the long weeks ahead when she’d see Luke McGraw every day. But why Luke? Lydia said he was rude and unfriendly, and she was right. But I’m not like Lydia. I don’t dislike him. She might even get to know him better. They’d talk. He’d treat her like an equal person, not like a servant, maybe even regard her with those dark, observant eyes as if he thought she was pretty, like he did today. But what was she thinking? If she was going to dream about a man, it ought to be Magnus Ferguson, not someone as remote and withdrawn as Luke. Did she honestly believe she’d have even the faintest chance to attract a man like Magnus? No, she wouldn’t, not with beautiful Lydia casting her cornflower blue eyes in his direction.

      I’ll put it out of my mind. Callie snuggled into her blankets, dead tired from the grueling day. What a lovely day it had been, despite everything. Maybe she was an outsider who could never compete with her stepsisters, but her spirits soared. No more life of isolation. For the first time ever, she’d be with other people, not just her family, at least until they reached California, and who knew what would happen then? Back in Tennessee, when she’d first heard they were heading west, she had been overcome with dread, didn’t want to go. How her thinking had changed! Who knew what the future held? Maybe she even had a future. What a wonderful thought. And yet…would there be any difference? When they reached California, Pa would buy another farm, so there she’d be, the same old drudge she’d been in Tennessee, only… No! Don’t underestimate yourself, Luke had said, and he was right. From now on, she definitely would not underestimate herself. From now on, she wasn’t sure how, but things would be different.

      She fell asleep with a spark of hope glimmering deep in a corner of her mind.

      In the morning, they became the forty-first and forty-second wagons in the Ferguson wagon train. Pa grumbled when they were assigned a place at the end of the line, the worst possible position. When the trail was dry, stirred-up dust choked the last wagons. When the trail was wet, the ruts in the road were deepest for those unfortunate enough to bring up the rear.

      Callie hardly noticed, having discovered the best way to meet her new neighbors was to ride Duke alongside the train as it rolled along at its snail’s pace, a good two miles an hour at best. She discovered what fun it was to go up and down the line of wagons, visiting families along the way. Why had they made such a drastic change in their lives, pulling up stakes and heading west? Each had a fascinating story to tell. Doc Wilson, the only doctor