Charlotte’s father, Samuel, was a solid man, well-built and strong, with firm hands and a still handsome but unsmiling face.  He radiated authority even doing nothing, having no intentions of any sort toward anyone.  It was just how he was, the way he carried himself, who he knew himself to be.  So much since the beginning of his life had gone into the creation of his bearing, his calm, his confidence.  No one feared him, not exactly.  But they would not cross him either, or doubt his word.  Charlotte had his same bearing but without the authority that had been bequeathed to him, and her actions as a result had caused him to despair.

They’d traveled for three days.  Charlotte did not know where they were going, though her father did.  As the sun rose higher in the sky, the landscape changed.  The prairie began to undulate.  Gentle rolling hills appeared with forest off in the distance.  To the west, a line of quaking aspens signaled the presence of a river.

Charlotte grew alert, sensing the shift.  As she watched, a track appeared, at first just a faint line in the prairie.  As the weary horses drew closer, the track enlarged into a dusty byway running from east to west, a broad expanse packed down hard by the iron wheels of untold numbers of wagons, the hooves of mules, oxen, horses and trampling herds of livestock.

Her father turned the team of horses onto the track heading west.  Before the river, he guided the wagon into shelter underneath a large spreading elm.  He pulled in the reins and the horses came to a halt, their heads drooping.  Still Samuel sat on the wagon seat, not moving.  He sighed once heavily, wondering why life had to be so difficult, but that was all.

“Where are we?” Charlotte said.  She was numb and at the same time burning inside.

“At the river.”

“I can see that.”

“This is the trail west.”

“West to where?”

Her father sighed again.  Never did he imagine he would be doing such a thing, but it was required.  The forces at work, the situation as it had come to be, dictated that this solution was the only one.  There was no other.  This most dire of cases defied any easy answer, left choices and options by the wayside.  He didn’t believe that his wisdom had failed him.  He was certain he’d succeeded with a plan where before there had been no plan, no hope.  He’d spent some very dark days and nights in preparations.

“West to the desert.”

“And what’s out there?”

“Your uncle.”

“Tobias?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he was banished.”

“He was.”

“Then am I being banished too?”

“Not exactly.”

Charlotte had had enough.  “Are you going to give this to me one sentence at a time and take the rest of the day doing it, or are you finally going to tell me what you have in mind?”