A/N: Just a head's up for those who have read my other stories...in some respects, this story is a sequel to The Affluent and the Destitute. But this story can also stand by itself. Thanks, and enjoy!

TO OREGON!

Thursday was Sara Beth Osbourne’s favorite day of the week, because Thursday was butter day. Sara loved milking the cow; she loved watching the milk squirt into the metal pail, she loved skimming the cream from the top of the stilled milk. She loved everything from the up and down pounding motion of the churn to scraping the butter from the dash. Though her arms always ached at the end of the day, Sara always felt enormously satisfied upon seeing the pats of sweet-smelling butter with the pretty flower designs imprinted on by her butter mold.

She hummed lightly to herself as she pushed the dasher up and down. “O my darling, O my darling, O my darling Clementine…”

Sara Beth’s little sister, Jessie, whirled about irritably. “Will you quit that?” She threw the spoon she had been using to stir the dinner soup onto the stove with a clang.

Sara was so startled that she released the dasher. It bounced wildly and the entire churn teetered dangerously before she grabbed it and kept it from falling over. “Goodness!” She cried in surprise. “Whatever is the matter with you today, Jessie?”

For though her younger sister was considerably less diligent about household chores than she was, the one chore Jessie detested the least was butter making, for there was always sweet buttermilk to be had at the end of the day. Sometimes, she even joined in the singing herself. Thus, Sara was shocked at her sister’s sudden angry outburst.

“Nothing!” Jessie cried sulkily. “I just don’t see why Pa had to go to town and wouldn’t bring us.”

Sara Beth sighed. Though Jessie had turned sixteen this past February, she still acted very much a child rather than the young woman she was supposed to have become. “You know that there are far too many chores for us to do at home today. Pa would have gladly taken us had we put everything out of the way. Besides, there will be plenty of chances to venture into town later this summer.”

“But I want to go now.” Jessie grabbed her spoon and began stirring with too much enthusiasm. “And he took Danny. Oh, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair at all! Why couldn’t he have left Dan to help you and taken me instead? He knows I enjoy town so much more than that foolish boy.”

“Now dear,” Sara Beth said soothingly. “Danny is twelve, almost a man, now. It wouldn’t be right for him to stay at home doing household chores while his sister ventured into town to help with men’s business.”

“…and Dan’s a right little pig, too,” Jessie ploughed on, as if she hadn’t heard Sara’s words at all. “I reckon he’ll buy a bag of sweets for all of us and eat more than his share on the way home. I always bring enough to share when I go to town with Pa, don’t I? I’m never stingy, I would never eat through the bag without a thought for anyone else…”

“Oh Jessie, do be more careful!” Sara quickly snatched the peeling knife from Jessie. In her pre-occupied ranting, the girl had very nearly cut off her fingers while shaving the onion into slices. “Now see here, can’t you pay more attention to your job? You’ve sliced this onion much too thickly! It will be much too uncomfortable on the mouth!”

“Oh I give up!” The younger Osbourne girl tossed her head contemptuously. “If Pa doesn’t want to take me to town, then he can have bad soup for supper!”

“Jessie! How can you say such a thing?” Sara reprimanded.

But her words had no effect on Jessie. Sara had no control over her; neither did their father, the venerable widower Daniel Osbourne. The only person who had ever been able to make Jessie feel truly sorry for her brusque actions was Mary Beth Osbourne. But Ma had died six years ago, when Sara was thirteen and Jessie ten. And since then, Jessie has become even wilder, with no one to restrain her actions, Sara thought ruefully, for try as she might, the truth came down to the fact that she was a woefully inadequate replacement for her mother.

“I’ll say whatever I please.” Jessie crossed her arms, threw herself in Ma’s old rocking chair, picked up an old ragged copy of Godey’s and did not speak again or lift a finger for the remainder of the morning.

Sara was forced to bustle about herself, working doubly hard to ensure all the proper tasks were finished. She finished churning the last of the butter, molded it and wrapped it and stored it, dolled out the buttermilk into equal-sized portions, all the while tending to dinner and supper in-between. Finally, after she had downed the meager bread and soup that was her dinner, Sara sat down in a chair and picked up her sewing kit. While she pretended to be selecting a needle, she glanced at her sister through the corner of her eye. Jessie was still rocking nonchalantly back and forth, her eyes now deeply riveted on an old volume of William Shakespeare. Sara seethed silently with anger. Once again, she had been forced to finish all of the chores all by herself while Jessie was having a tantrum. Her arms ached, her feet ached, even her head ached, and yet her sister sat curled up in the comfortable rocking chair reading novels, with no regard to anyone else’s state of being.

Jessie, finally feeling Sara’s angry gaze, looked up and met her sister’s eyes. “Oh, what are you mad about now, Sara Beth?” She asked exasperatedly, as if it had been Sara, and not she, who had been in a fit nearly all day.

Sara opened her mouth furiously to respond, but then thought better and checked her temper. “You did not do an ounce of work today.”

Jessie sniffed. “Well, you were short with me when I was attempting to help with the soup, so I thought I might just get out of your way. You did get everything all done, and rather faster than when I help you, I daresay.”

Sara glared reproachfully.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Isn’t it you who’re always complaining that I slow things down? Isn’t it always you who’re always telling me that I’m doing this-and-that wrong? So I was rather doing you a favor, you see. Nearly nothing has been done wrong today.”

Before Sara could think of some way to express to her sister the grave error of her way of thinking, she heard the clip-clopping hoofs and clatter of wooden wheels that signified the return of the Osbourne men. Almost immediately, Jessie threw her book carelessly aside and bounded out to meet Pa and Danny. Sara was not as quick; her limbs were rather sore, and she had to place the Shakespeare volume carefully in its place in the nightstand before walking out to greet her father and brother.

“Why Sara, there you are at last!” Pa laughed. “We were wondering where you’d disappeared to!”

“Sairy, I saw loads!” Danny cried excitedly, his hazel eyes wide and sparkling. “There was all sorts of neat stuff at the General Store, and Pa even bought me some lemonade, and oh, and I saved some lemon drops and peppermints for you.”

Jessie reluctantly held out the paper bag she had been fishing out of. Sara shook her head gently, and Jessie went back to greedily popping the lemon drops into her mouth; the paper candy bag was empty before they had entered back into the house.

“Oh boy, onion soup, I’m starved!” Danny cried delightedly upon smelling what had been simmering over the hearth fire since mid-morning.

Sara quickly ladled the steaming soup into the bowls that she had already set upon the table. Pa said a quick blessing, and then they all dug in. “I’m absolutely ravenous, this is exceptionally delicious, girls!” He complimented. “Now, tell me the truth, Jessie, did you help with preparing this soup or not?”

“I sliced the onions.” Jessie replied sweetly.

“Well, I suppose I ought to be glad that you helped with something. And rather finely sliced these onions are too, just the right thickness.” Pa nodded approvingly.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Sara Beth quickly began clearing away the dishes; she did not ask Jessie to help, as her sister had already begun regaling her father and brother with an amusing recitation from some novel or other. She placed the dishes in a pail, then carried them all out to the well just outside of the barn. As she scrubbed diligently at the pewter plates and bowls, her father suddenly materialized in front of her. He had approached so quietly that she did not feel his presence until he was stooping down beside her and cleaning dishes with her.

“There was much talk in the General Store today about Oregon, again.” Her father said quietly.

Sara Beth nodded mutely. For the past few months, her father had been mentioning the new territory off and on. She had a dreadful feeling that tonight, he was about to pursue the matter further than he had ever gone, since he had taken the trouble to see her alone.

Pa sighed heavily. “The last time that I brought up Oregon, you did not seem too pleased with the idea. Dare I bring it up again in hopes that you have changed your mind, dear daughter?”

“If you wish to go, I will gladly accompany you.” Sara said solidly. “I do not care, really.”

“This is the sort of thing that your mother ought to have been here for,” Pa said sadly, shaking his head. “I should not be discussing this with you at all my dear, you’re but still a girl, for all you acting so mature. But unfortunately, she is not here, so I must lay this burden on you. And you must answer me honestly, Sara Beth. What do you think if we were to pack up and head for Oregon? There is plenty of lush land, exceptionally good for farming, I hear. We will have to leave everything behind, of course, but I have already found several interested buyers in our farm. They will pay a fair price; with it, we will have enough to buy what we need to reach Oregon, and set up beginnings when we are there. They say that the fish in Oregon are the largest in the world, the creeks are simply brimming over with fish, the ground fertile and crying for someone to plough and plant it with plentiful crops…”

Sara’s heart ached. What could she say about immigrating to Oregon? She did not like the idea, she did not like the idea one bit. She did not want to leave the farm, to leave all that she knew behind. But her father’s eyes sparkled and shone whenever he spoke of Oregon; she could not remember her pa’s eyes sparkling and shining for more than six years now, and she did not want to say anything that might take it away again. So, she nodded very delicately, and said, “The journey will be hard.”

“Oh no doubt,” Pa said, but this only seemed to increase his excitement. “It will take nearly five months to cover the two-thousand mile trek. We will encounter many hardships on the way, if the guidebooks are not exaggerating. But in the end, there is the lush Oregon land waiting to be claimed. We will build a farm ten times the size of this one, Danny can go fishing for salmon everyday…” he trailed off and looked at her again questioningly.

Sara shifted uncomfortably. “You do not need to consult me, Pa.”

“But you are the woman of the house now, my dear,” her father said breezily. “If you do not want to take this journey, then we do not have to…”

Even now, his eyes were already fading back to the distant, sad, and bitter expression they always bore. Sara’s heart clutched at her. Perhaps her father was right, Oregon would be a new start, a new life. Perhaps they really ought to leave this house and farm behind. It contained many memories of Ma that could only bring Pa sorrow at her premature departure.

She drew a long breath; it really was a great honor that her father had conferred onto her. “If you want to take this journey Pa, then we will all gladly accompany you.”

Her words caused an almost magical transformation on her father’s face. His dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners and shone brighter than ever. “This weekend, we shall all head into town again. I shall confirm the selling of our farm, and then we shall purchase a wagon and some other things we’ll need before Independence. We’ll both need to make many preparations…” he seemed to hesitate, glancing at her uncertainly.

“I will take care of it all.” Sara Beth promised.

“Good girl,” Pa smiled and tugged at the end of her long braid. “You’ve never yet failed me. You’ve done the work of your mother and more for these last six years. I trust you will do your utmost to make preparations for Oregon. Now, shall we go and announce to Jessie and Daniel where we’ll be sleeping in October?”

As Sara Beth headed back to the cabin, with her father’s arm draped around her shoulders, her heart warmed slightly. So Pa does put much trust in me. Yet, her heart was still dark at the prospect of traveling five months on wagon across the wide and never-ending prairies.