By the time the train pulled into the Fort Wayne depot, the girls were dressed and “freshened up,” as Ruth said, and had even helped to “freshen up” the twins.
“Are you going ’way out to Chicago, too?” asked Sue, of the mother.
“We’re bound farther than that,” she smiled back tiredly. “We’re homesteaders. My husband is to meet us at Omaha. His health broke down two years ago at the wood-pulp mills down in Virginia, so he went West, and took up a claim in Wyoming, and he’s got along so well. First he stayed out six months, then came back home for the winter, and his brother worked the claim. Then he went back in April. That’s a year ago. He hasn’t even seen the baby yet, and she’s so smart! She’s got five teeth, and can stand all by herself if you just steady her a little bit.”
“My, won’t he be surprised,” Sue said, happily. “We’re going to Wyoming too, just for a vacation. We go as far as Deercroft.”
“That’s northeast, isn’t it? Our place is farther along towards Cody. Seems good to talk to somebody. I haven’t seen a soul I knew since we left Washington. I’ve enjoyed you girls being so close to me. I like to hear you all laughing.”
“Don’t you know any one out West here?” Polly leaned forward to say.
“Nobody except my husband and his brother Joe.”
“Aren’t women terribly brave people, Miss Murray?” Ruth said softly, over in the far seat. “Think of her making this long trip just because it’s the best thing to do for her husband.”
Jean smiled, and there was a dreamy look in her eyes, as she remembered tales her own mother had told of the women who followed the long trail West for love and duty.
“For better, for worse, Ruth,” she quoted, gently.