almost everyone on the board speaks Spanish, and I suppose they went against us.
My hope is that Clayton will be well enough by late June to travel and will agree to go north. The Deerings plan to travel north also, as the land is easier to farm, and they would like to start a small ranch.
I understand your meaning in your letter when you write that I should no longer mention what is past. I am sure there are times when Aunt Celia and even Mother request to read my letters. Do what you think best with those I have sent during the last year; dispose of them if need be. I will say no more.
You ask me also to return to Virginia, where you can be of help. Believe me, Maggie, when I say what I long for most is to feel myself in your sturdy arms and hear your calm, sensible voice. But I have lived on this desert for five years now. It is a hard place to make a home, but it is also beautiful. I do not know how else to say this, except that my heart, my very soul, has become one with it. In the spring I am wild with the deep green of the cottonwoods and the cactusâs exotic blossoming. Throughout summer, it is my own self that is dried and parched and windblown. The sky here is like no other, and Maggie, its bright wide bowl is the lining of my soul.
Perhaps you are right. My âdesert love,â as you call it, may have grown from fear. As you say, it has taken one of my children and perhaps the health of my husband. Aunt Celiaâs letters describe Motherâs anger over the lack of responsibility she believes I have taken for Amy and George Michael. I suppose you are right and she would forgive all were I to return, but can I do so, in defeat? And, Maggie, we have little money. You have written yourself that Johnâs business is just large enough for him and his brother. I am afraid our lives in Virginia would not be any easier.
Please try to understand the sense of this, dear sister. Do not blame me too much.
Abigail
June 10, 1873
Dear Maggie,
We set off in a few days. Clayton moves about a little more freely now, and I have spent the last two months repairing the wagon and purchasing two good mules to pull it. Amy has been such a help with George Michael and the packing of our belongings. I am hopeful we will be able to find schooling for her. When I read of Irene and Robertâs progress, I get discouraged that Amy will never advance the way she should with just the simple knowledge I have taught her at home.
The Deerings, one other family, and several single travelers will compose our group, led by Mr. Shumway, who has had experience as a scout. We will follow the Rio Grande into northern New Mexico and with any luck should be settled by summerâs end.
Be assured, I will write as soon as I know where we will settle. And I will hope that you will forgive me. You are right, I suppose, in saying that last winter Clayton would have agreed to move back to Virginia. I cannot imagine anything that he would have chosen to fight me on. I pray that you will find it in yourself to accept this.
Your Sister,
Abigail
September 21, 1873
My Dear Maggie,
We are settled on a small piece of land near the town of North Valverde, along the mountain range. The desert is not all dry sand and rock and clay. There are many places where a river or creek runs through the land, turning it green with vegetation. Cottonwoods, willows, and oak trees are common in such areas. In the spring and early summer, flowers bloom in abundance, and anything which one plants in the wet, sandy soil is likely to thrive.
Maggie, our land is just such a place as I have described. We have purchased land in a valley created by two rivers. The water runs through our land, and we are free to plant on its banks. The property was more dear because of this, but we know well the value of land that is near water. Clayton worries, as we have spent everything to purchase it; I know we have done what is right and will prosper for years to come.