AUTHOR'S NOTE: So. Chapter 1 is up! whoo...

Just remember... there has been ABSOLUTELY ZERO EDITING. I know there are about a zillion spelling mistakes and probably some grammar ones too. And there's probably some repetitive prose, so just overlook that.

Chapter One

"Ma'am? I'll need more money to carry you to the next station. It'll be twenty dollars."

"Mr. Norton, that is at least twice as much as I gave you to get us here, wherever we are."

"Sorry ma'am. The next leg o' the journey is a might bit farther." The covered coach driver looked apologetic, but there wasn't anything he could do about the prices. He hadn't made them up, he just had to follow the rules. Lacey sighed. Looking out the window of the coach, she saw a dusty little town that seemed friendly enough. It wasn't her beloved New England, but it looked like it would have to do. At least for now. She had underestimated travel expenses, and now they were practically out of money. Or maybe the coach drivers were over-charging, she wasn't sure.

"Mother? We will be unable to pay for it?" The woman looked at her seventeen year old daughter, and felt her face fall. Even though the inflection in Becky's voice made the words sound like a question, Lacey knew they were a statement. She knew she had let her daughter down, and there was no way she could smooth everything over, at least for now.

"Yes sweetie." The blonde put on a brave, well practiced smile. She thought about the events that had led them up to here. Events that had begun with Jonah leaving to search for gold in that idiotic gold rush. Lacey wished she had never even heard of California. When her husband had walked out of their front door, that had been the last she had ever seen of him, for ten years. The gold rush was over now, and she hadn't heard from him in two years. They had communicated via post and telegraph for eight years. It had taken him forver to actually get to California. When he had reached the godforsaken place, it had been harder to find gold than he had originally thought it would be.

My Lovely Lacey,

California is so different from New England. I'm afraid it will be more difficult than I thought to get any amount of money. They call it panning for gold. You have to find a lucky spot, though, or you won't get anything at all. I'm sorry this is so short, my dear. Tell Becky I love her, and that Fluffy is keeping me company. I'm counting down the days until I can come home.

I love you.

Jonah

Lacey remembered the first letter she had recieved once he had actually made it to California. He sounded so dejected. Of course, others would read it and wouldn't be able to tell. She had always been able to see past his facedes, and could tell if something was wrong. Jonah never had been able to hide anything from here. The sad thing was, most of their correspondances were along the lines of his first letter. They had begun getting worse and worse with Jonah becoming more and more dejected. Lacey didn't know how he could live being so miserable, although he obviously thought he was covering it up. Lacey hadn't done such a good job of covering her own dejection up either. Her parents, and even Jonah's parents were beginning to notice a constant melancholy about four years ago. Becky had been really sad and lethargic for the first three months, but like the resiliant young child she was, she had bounced back easily. It was the last, jubilant letter she had gotten from Jonah that allowed Lacey to finally bounce back, although the upswing in her mood hadn't lasted very long at all.

Lovely Lovely Lacey,

I've been looking forward to the day I could come home since the day I arrived. The past seven years have been the longest years of my life. I cannot wait to see how grown up Becky is, although I regret not being able to watch her grow. I also regret leaving you all alone, although I have done what I set out to do - there is a good amount of money that I have stored up. We'll have a bigger, better house when I come home and I'll be able to get you girls all sorts of trinkets as souvineres for my 'trip.' God, your letters, and Fluffy have been able to sustain me thus far and I am eternally grateful for that fact. In about six weeks I will be free of all the obligations that I started up here and I will be able to start making the long journey home. Once we hit the railroads the going will be faster than the coming. Wagon trains take many, many months. If I take a train at least a fourth of the way I should be able to shave a month or two off my journey. Maybe even three! You might not get another letter for another two months, but don't worry Love!

I love you.

Jonah

Becky pulled her mother out of her trance by resting a hand on Lacey's arm. It had been three years since that last letter. Something had obviously gone wrong. Lacey refused to see it. She kept that last letter in the bottom of her reticule at all times. Becky knew when her mother was thinking about Jonah. She had seen that look on her mother's face too many times to not be able to recognize it. Many people had told her to move on with her life - three years without correspondance was all but proof that Jonah wasn't coming back.

Some said that Jonah had met another woman. Becky didn't believe it. Some said that he had found a better job and just didn't want to leave it. Becky didn't believe that either. Others said that he was dead. Becky wished she didn't believe it. Her instincts, however, told her that it was true. And while she understood her mother didn't want to believe that her husband was dead, she really did think it was time for Lacey to move on.

Lacey didn't have one inkling of doubt that Jonah wasn't alive. She knew what others said, because they said it behind her back as well as to her face. The blonde knew that Jonah hadn't found another woman, or simply another job. She also knew that he wasn't dead.

Which is why she, Letitia Jefferson, was going to find her husband. Many other wives had taken the journey to meet up with their husbands years ago. Jonah had always dissuaded Lacey to do so then. He had claimed the trail wasn't for children, wasn't for Becky, even though countless other children had made the trek. But Jonah had always had a soft spot for the girl and was overprotective even when all the way across the country. But now, ten years after Jonah had left for California, this California widow was making the trek herself.

Her only issue was the fact that she ran out of provisions, halfway there. Lacey and Becky weren't resourceful enough on their own to make it in a wagon train. They were undeniably city girls - even though Becky herself loved to spend summers out on Jonah's parents' farm, helping her Grandpapa train his horses. Lacey wasn't trying to fool anyone - they wouldn't last out on the trail in their own coach or wagon. So they hired coaches to take them certain lengths of the journey. Once they reached Independence, MO they had planned on getting on a train to take them the next long leg of the trail. Trains were faster, but more expensive.

They had hit a hitch in their planning in Independence, however. All of the train spots were booked solid, and the only decent boarding rooms would seriously deplete their funds. It was more cost-efficient to hire another coach out to take them to the next station where a different company's railroad would be coming by just in time.

The only problem there, was that they hadn't made it to that next station. They weren't going to. At each different switching of the coach came, and as they got further and further west, coaches turned from being very cheap and affordable to almost rediculous in price. Lacey didn't know if they were just taking advantage of two women traveling or if it was just because there were less and less stops that made the traveling that much harder for the coach drivers.

"Mother, what should we do?" Becky asked.

"I'm not entirely sure. But I do know that we need to get off here. We'll find the closest room to board in and make a new plan."

"Okay."

Becky didn't question her mother, but quietly exited the coach and pointed out their bags to the driver. There had been two others in the coach with them, and those were continuing with their journey. The coach driver lifted down their bags and set them on the dusty ground. The girl shaded her eyes against the sun and looked about her. It was a small town, and there was nothing much to speak of. The buildings were sturdy but had definitely been built to be more functional than beautiful. The boarded sidewalks were there to keep people from having to walk on the dusty ground between the shop fronts and other doors, but the main streets were just hard-packed dirt. They were somewhere in Wyoming, Becky was pretty sure. However, she wasn't sure exactly WHERE in Wyoming they were.

"Mother?" Becky turned again after perusing the sight in front of her to see Lacey slouching a bit, looking rather dejected. She didn't say anything, but just picked up one of her carpetbags and went to nudge the blonde with her elbow. It looked like this town, in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming, would be where they would rest for a little while. Somehow they would have to come up with a way to get enough money to the next station, and preferably all the way to California. While Becky had come to grips with the fact that her father wasn't alive any more, she knew that Lacey would need closure before she could go on with her life.

It was sad to see a woman who was only thirty-two so burdened. And Becky would do anything, including traveling with her mother to California, to see that she got that closure and was able to lighten up a bit, and get back to being the happy mother that Becky remembered from several years ago.

Lacey sighed, knowing that Becky saw through her composure. She threw her shoulders back like a proper woman should and held her head high. Even if her daughter could see through her, she was determined that no one else would. She reached down to pick up her bag and then looked at the large trunk that they were sharing. She hadn't known exactly how much to pack, so she had figured a large carpetbag each for traveling necessities and a large trunk to share between them would be enough. Lacey hadn't figured that sharing one trunk would probably have been the smartest thing she could have done. However, both of the women were travel weary and quite worn out, so they weren't quite sure what to do with it.

"Hello ladies, is there any way I could help? M'name's Matthew Davis, ma'am. I'm the sheriff of these parts."

Lacey and Becky both turned in a swish and whirl of skirts to look at the man who had just introduced himself. He was very tall, about six foot three, and had blond hair and blue eyes. Lacey thought that he reminded her of one of her older brothers, even though he was obviously more used to hard work than her brothers were.

"Hello, Sheriff Davis. I'm Letitia Jefferson and this is my daughter Rebecca. We're both a little lost, do you think you could tell me where we are? The coach driver wouldn't tell us a thing besides how much it would cost to go further down the road."

"Well, that was rude of him. And you can call me Matt. Well, you have landed in the wonderful town of West Thomas, and we are right on the Wyoming border."

"Oh, thank you Sheriff... Matt. Do you think you could also point us in the right direction of a boarding house? We need somewhere to stay for a few days while we get our next travel plans together." Lacey was reluctant to give out their financial issues to complete strangers, and tried to phrase things as tactfully as possible. It was difficult to live on the seat of her pants like this, but she had gotten herself and her daughter into this mess, and she was going to get them out if it killed her!

"Yes ma'am, Miss Letitia."

"Its.. Mrs.... Jefferson, actually, Matt. Becky and I are traveling west to go join my husband."

"Oh, I.. I see. Well of course, Mrs. Jefferson. If you turn to your right, then you'll see Mrs. Cunningham's boarding house right in front of you. I'll just go grab one of the boys in the street over there to help me with your trunk." Matt said.

"Oh, we're much obliged to you, Sheriff."

"Now, what happened to Matt?"

"I'm sorry... Matt." The man made Lacey a little bit uncomfortable. Sure, he was handsome, but she wasn't interested. He obviously thought she would be. He had the air of a very confident, possibly over confident, man. Lacey wasn't really attracted to those types even though she knew of a lot of women who were. It was a pity one or two of her old maid friends didn't come with her. They would have loved Sheriff Matt. Smooth, suave, and a way with words they would say. That way with words that went right along with his impressive, working-man build.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Rebecca?"

"Lets go talk to Mrs. Cunningham. I'm so weary from carrying around this heavy carpetbag and from that coach ride. That was the longest one yet." Becky knew that her mother would feel better if she was able to take care of her daughter, so she let Lacey usher her across the dusty street and up onto the other boarded sidewalk in front of the boarding house. A man was walking out as they walked up, and he stopped to let the women through, tipping his hat to them as he did so. He was just an oardinary man, but no one had ever tipped their hat to Becky before. She smiled shyly and they both murmured, "Thank you." Her gaze went to the ground. Of course, upon thinking back at the teenage boys in their old city, none of them really knew hats. Out of all the men she had seen here so far, only a few of the younger boys and the coach driver had been caught with heads bare of a cowboy hat. She was so surprised that everyone really did wear cowboy hats. Becky had thought maybe it was a bit of propaganda. But no, the drawings of the men of the west had been true. Everyone DID wear cowboy hats. It was amazing.

"Oh, is someone out there?" A matronly voice floated towards them in the parlor from somewhere else inside the building.

"Yes, ma'am. My daughter and I have come to inquire about procuring a room for a few days, possibly more." Lacey answered the call and immediately a short, slightly rounded woman came bustling up to the front. She somehow managed to stay soft looking without carrying around too much excess weight. Her blonde curls were fading to white, and the up do that secured her hair was loose and there were strands that were falling out to frame her face. Both of the women decided that they liked Mrs. Cunningham right away. She made them feel at home.

"Why, listen to you! I haven't heard something so formal since I was back in New England."

"That's where we come from... Mrs. Cunningham, isn't it?"

"Yes, dears! Did Matthew send you this way? He's good about hanging around the station come time a coach is supposed to roll through."

"Yes, he did."

"Well, you two are such pretty women I'm sure he gave you a nice welcome."

Becky and Lacey both blushed at the comment, and the pair of them also thought about the welcome that they had received. Becky wasn't fond of the way that the Sheriff had been looking at her mother, and Lacey wasn't fond of the way she had been spoken to. She'd felt like he was trying to trick her by way of smooth talk. That sort of thing had never gone over well with her.

"Oh, yes. He did," Lacey replied.

"He always does when it comes to pretty ladies. Don't worry your heads about it, he doesn't mean to come across as a bit overbearing all the time. Now. You said you wanted rooms?"

"Oh, I don't think we need two. We'll do alright sharing one."

"Nonsense. It isn't every day I get women in my boarding house! Its mainly men coming through. I know how women need their space. I'll give you two rooms for the price of one."

Lacey was speechless. After suspecting the coach drivers pulling the wool over their eyes about the rising prices, she was blown away by the generosity of the older woman here in front of her. Becky rescued her.

"Why, thank you Mrs. Cunningham!"

"Don't think a thing about it, dears. By the way, what's your name, young lady?"

"I'm Rebecca, ma'am. Though I've been called Becky ever since I can remember."

"Becky. You're just a charming young lady! And those manners! If only the men around here could be even less than half so nice, I wouldn't be threatened with losing my head! And what is your name, dear?" Mrs. Cunningham looked at Lacey.

"How rude of me to not introduce myself! My name is Lacey Jefferson."

"That's such a pretty name. Oh, I see Matthew and young Andrew coming this way with what I could only assume is your trunk. I can't believe two such well-dressed girls such as yourselves have been able to survive on those two carpetbags and one trunk between you! Since they have your trunk by the handles, we may as well show them to your rooms. I have two connected ones on the second floor. It will make it easier to share that trunk, I hope." The woman bustled around, for there was no other word to describe how she moved but bustled, and located two keys before turning and bustling right up the stairs. Lacey and Becky saw no other option but to follow amusedly up the stairs.

"Matthew! Andrew! Kindly bring that up with you!" Mrs. Cunningham shouted at the man and younger boy before they had even been able to think about setting the trunk down inside the door. The five of them traveled up one flight of stairs to the second story in what would have been silence, but Mrs. Cunningham was chattering away about the town of Bakersville and its inhabitants. Apparently she was very happy to have women around. Lacey turned to the two males as they set the trunk down in her room.

"Thank you very much gentlemen. And what is your name?" She looked to the younger boy.

"Oh, my name is Jason Whittaker, ma'am." He nodded, one hand raising as if he was going to touch the brim of his cowboy hat. The hand didn't quite make it, as if he was shy about making such a polite gesture.

"It was nuthin, Mrs. Jefferson. If I might enquire, do you know how long you're going to be staying in our little town?"

"Now Matthew, stop pestering these two gals. They've had a hard journey and I'm sure the last thing they want is to be sitting around answering trivial questions. They'll let us know when they're ready." Mrs. Cunningham shooed the men away with a flapping of her hands.

When Lacey and Becky were finally alone, they both sat heavily on the bed and looked around. The room was simple and obviously lived in, but it was very clean and quite cozy. Becky supposed that her room would be practically identical. For some reason the two rooms were connected. With a sigh she heaved herself up off the bed, grabbed her bag and made her way to the conjoining room. Her nightclothes were in her carpetbag so there was no reason to go rifling through the trunk now. The sun was beginning to set, and it was actually pretty early to be thinking about sleep, but they had been traveling since before the sun rose and Becky couldn't wait until her head hit that pillow. Before shutting the door to her room she turned to look at Lacey. It appeared she was having the same thoughts - her nightclothes were already laid out on the bed and she was turning back the covers.

"Mother?"

"Yes Rebecca?"

"Tomorrow we'll be able to settle things. Don't worry about it."

Lacey smiled. "Of course dear."

"I just know you're worrying. Don't. I know we'll probably have to stay here a week or two. No one could tell us about the expensive coaches. We'll find some way to make some money."

"You're the best daughter that a mother could ever dream of having. Now, go to your own bed and sleep."

"Yes mother. Goodnight."