Westward Hearts by Melody Carlson

migrate west come spring. Some folks thought the family courageous, but others thought they’d lost their ever-loving minds.
    “Have you sold your farm yet?” Oliver Thorne asked Elizabeth as she did some shopping at the Thorne Mercantile. Elizabeth knew that the store owner was well aware of the status of her negotiations.
    “Thomas Barron has made me an offer,” she informed him. “I expect we’ll come to an agreement soon.”
    His dark brows arched as he measured off ten yards of moss-green calico. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
    “I don’t quite know what I’ll use this fabric for just yet, but I’m sure it will be useful in Oregon. It’s certainly pretty enough. Perhaps it will become dresses for Ruthie and me.”
    He cleared his throat. “I’m not speaking of the dry goods, Mrs. Martin.”
    Of course, she knew that. She was simply being coy.
    “I can’t fathom why you and your family are making this move.” He used what he probably assumed was a paternal tone. “I’ve done a fair amount of reading on the subject, and I can assure you, I would never dream of taking my wife and children out to that savage wilderness. Do you have any idea what it’s like out there in the Wild West? Are you prepared for what you’ll encounter?”
    “I’ll admit that I don’t know everything there is to know about traveling that far west,” she confessed. “But I’ve been studying up on it for years. And as you know, my in-laws have all relocated there. From what they’ve written me, it’s a wonderful place to farm and raise a family.”
    “But a lone woman, traveling through Indian country?” He frowned as he snipped a straight line through the fabric. “Seems mighty perilous to me.”
    She gave him a tolerant smile. “I won’t be alone, Mr. Thorne. Didn’t you hear that my parents and my brother are going as well?”
    “Certainly, I heard that…but still, you being a widow woman with two youngins…well, if you ask me…” He shook his head. “Just don’t seem right.”
    She pointed to a bolt of blue gingham now. “I think I’d like ten yards of that one too, please.”
    “That’s a lot of cloth,” he said as he reached for the indigo blue. “Looks like you’re going to be mighty busy.”
    “As you can imagine, we’re trying to stock our wagons with useful items—things that won’t be easily procured once we set out on our journey. As a result, I expect you’ll be seeing a fair amount of my mother and me in your store for the next few weeks. We have quite a list of goods to purchase.”
    His eyes lit up as if he was counting his profits now. “Well, I reckon it’s a challenge to fully outfit a wagon.”
    “It certainly is.” She examined one of the large storage tins, testing the lid to see that it fit snugly and thinking it would be practical for staples. “Fortunately, we’ll be taking three wagons. That allows us to take more. But we’re planning carefully, making the best use of the space and weight.”
    “Does that mean you’re driving your own wagon?” He folded the gingham into a neat bundle.
    “I am.”
    He looked skeptical. “I’ve heard an oxen team can prove a challenge, even for a strong, experienced man. How do you expect you’ll manage that by yourself?”
    “Matthew and my father will drive the heavy wagons, and they’ll be pulled by oxen teams. I’ll drive a lighter wagon with a horse team. We’ve chosen our most dependable plow horses to do the job. I don’t see that it will be much of a problem. In fact, I think Jamie might even be able to handle driving some.” She made a confident nod. “We reckon it’ll be handy to have horses once we get to the Oregon Territory.”
    “I suppose that makes sense.”
    “You know, Mr. Thorne, the Oregon Territory will be a wonderful opportunity for smart businessmen like yourself someday.” She paused from picking out buttons to look him in the eyes. “For anyone with a spirit for adventure, it