Chapter Text
The year was 1849, nearly everyone was heading West in search of one of the three most coveted commodities of the era: land, oil, and, most notably, gold. Among the settlers was Lucifer Maidin-Lae, the youngest son of Irish immigrants and one of the few remaining members of his generation. At sixteen, he had left home to pursue his dream of revolutionizing farming and agriculture. For twelve years, he dedicated himself to this vision, showcasing his talents as both a farmer and an inventor. However, despite his gifts, many investors failed to see the potential in his ideas.
After facing his fiftieth rejection, Lucifer made the difficult decision to give up, as he now had a wife and child to support. He resolved to return home and claim his inheritance: Maidin-Lae Acres, the land his family had owned for generations. Originally intended to be shared with his brother, Michael, who had chosen to fight in the war, the land now fell solely to Lucifer. Though he was reluctant to venture far out West to a place he considered "uncivilized," he knew that owning this land was essential for providing his family with everything they needed and more.
"It won't be so bad, Lucifer." His wife Lilith reassured him as they sat together at the front of the wagon. "The city was nice, but it was cramped and crowded—no place for our daughter to run and play. She spent most of her days indoors. Here, she can play outside and make real friends."
"Yeah, friends with gunslingers and heathens." He grumbled.
"There were those in the city too, dear; they just dressed nicer." Lilith replied. "Besides, you grew up here, and you turned out just fine."
"Yes, but where we lived, there was always fighting—over food, livestock, land, oil, gold. It was so bad that my parents had to homeschool me and my brother. When we weren't studying, we were working the land like mules. My father insisted this land was all we had. 'Land is the only thing that amounts to anything,' he'd say. 'It's the only thing that lasts.'"
"Well, I always thought it was wonderful that your father left such a great legacy behind for you. The only legacy my father left me were gambling debts and the workhouse. If I had never met you, God only knows where I would be."
"I'm not ungrateful for what my father left me; I understand his reasons. But I want our daughter to have more than that. I want her to have a choice. I want her to go to college and see if she can be more than just a continuation of the Maidin-Lae legacy."
"And she will, but that's a long way off. For now, she doesn't need college; she needs sunshine, fresh air, clear skies, wide open spaces, trees to climb, rivers to swim in, and other children to play with. Both the city and the country have their problems, but I believe the country will provide her with a better childhood."
"I suppose you're right."
"Mama, Daddy! How much longer until we get there?" A voice called from inside the wagon.
"I'm afraid it'll be another day or two." Lucifer replied.
"But I'm tired of riding in this wagon! I want to get out."
"We'll stop and rest soon enough; be patient."
"But I'm bored! There's nothing to do."
"Come here, Charlie." Lilith called with a chuckle. "I'll teach you how to braid your hair."
The girl, named Charlotte, had struggled to pronounce her name as a toddler, so everyone started calling her Charlie. She was restless, adventurous, and curious, but she had a gentle nature. Unlike her father, she was excited about moving to Maidin-Lae Acres, viewing it as a permanent holiday away from the foggy, loud, and crowded city life she had known for eight years.
"Will there be apple trees and cherry trees, Mama?" Charlie asked as she settled on her mother's lap, letting her braid her blond locks with ribbons. "I always wanted to pick apples and cherries."
"Oh yes, my darling! There will be plenty of apple and cherry trees at Maidin-Lae Acres. And wheat fields, so we can make bread. We've never made bread before; we always bought it in the city. But with our own wheat fields, we can make it from scratch, and homemade bread is much more delicious than store-bought."
"What else will be there?"
"Well, there's a river." Lucifer said. "It was your uncle's and my favorite place to go when we were boys. We would swim, fish, gather duck eggs, and shoot ducks."
"Shoot ducks? Why?"
"To eat, of course."
"You can't eat ducks! They're cute and fluffy!"
"Not always. Some can be quite mean and thieving. They like to steal our cherries and wheat, the greedy things. They're almost as bad as crows."
"Will there be other children there?"
"Not on our land, but in the nearby town, yes." Lilith said. "We won't have to wait for a carriage to take us anywhere anymore; we can just walk there."
"Will any of the children in our group be there?"
She was referring to the hundreds of wagons driven by settlers traveling alongside them. Many had families, and when the wagons stopped to rest for the evening, she and the other children would play games together.
"Some of them, but not all." Lucifer said.
"But you'll make plenty of friends, and someday we can throw a big party and invite them all over." Lilith added. "There will be music and dancing, and you'll wear a beautiful dress with ruffles and a fine petticoat."
"Like the ones you wear, Mama? When you and Daddy go to those parties?"
"Yes, sweetie."
Charlie's eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of parties and new friends.
"Will I get to dance like you?"
"Of course, my love! You'll dance even better." Lilith replied, giving her daughter's braid a gentle tug.
Once her hair was neatly braided, Charlie hopped off her mother's lap and scampered to the back of the wagon. She peered over the edge, her eyes wide with wonder as the vast expanse of land unfolded before her. The rolling hills, dotted with wildflowers, seemed to stretch endlessly, and the sight of other settlers' wagons moving alongside them filled her with excitement.
As she scanned the horizon, something caught her eye: a group of Native Americans traveling parallel to the settlers. Their faces, weary yet dignified, bore the sun's imprint. Charlie had never seen anyone like them before. Her heart raced with curiosity as she noticed a young Native mother walking gracefully beside her son, who appeared to be about her age. He had dark hair and eyes that were like a forest, shimmering with shades of brown and green. His skin, darker than hers, was still lighter than that of the people traveling with him. He wore no shirt, only deer skin leggings, and streaks of red paint adorned his arms, chest, and cheeks.
The boy glanced curiously at the settlers, whom his people referred to as the "white men." He often wondered why they did not travel on foot like he and his people did, why their skin was the color of milk, and why they looked down on him and his kin with such disdain. His mother, noticing his gaze, gently pulled her son closer, whispering in his ear.
"Keep your head down, Red Stag." She cautioned softly, concern lacing her voice. "Don't look the white men in the eye. Many of them are not like your father."
Despite her warning, he couldn't resist glancing back. That's when he saw her. Her eyes sparkled like the river, blue as the sky reflected in its waters during the day, and silver-grey like moonbeams dancing upon it at night. With a bright smile, she waved enthusiastically at him. He waved back, a shy smile breaking across his face. But then a soldier from the settlers' group barked at him.
"Get back in line, you savage!" His tone was harsh and unforgiving.
The boy growled at him, and for a moment, Charlie was certain he would bite.
"Get back inside the wagon, Charlie!" Her father ordered.
She stepped back from the edge of the wagon, casting one last glance at the boy, who now looked down, his expression shifting from curiosity to sadness.
"Don't look at those people, Charlie," Lucifer said sharply. "They're nothing but heathens. All they do is run around, killing men, stealing women, and burning down cities."
"They do?" She replied, glancing back innocently. "Are you sure? I think they look funny, and that boy is cute. His mother is beautiful—just like you, Mama."
"That woman is nothing like your mother!" He snapped. "And don't ever say that again."
"Lucifer, please." Lilith interjected gently. "There's no need to be angry; she doesn't understand."
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer tried to rein in his frustration.
"I'm sorry, but you don't know what those people are capable of. They once slaughtered an entire family of a boy I knew. I was out in the fields when I saw smoke. I followed it and witnessed those savages burning their house and scalping anyone who survived."
"Well, no one is burning or scalping anyone right now, so calm down. Besides, they're managed soldiers; none of them would dare harm us."
Later that night, the stars flickered like a million tiny lanterns in the vast expanse of sky, and the crackling fire cast warm shadows around the camp. Lucifer sat upon a log nearby, maintaining vigil over the flickering flames. His brow furrowed as his thoughts drifted back to the day's encounter.
Meanwhile, inside the wagon, Lilith carefully tucked Charlie under the cozy blanket. The gentle sway of the wagon calmed the child, but the girl's mind was still swirling with thoughts.
"Mama?" Charlie's voice was soft but persistent.
Lilith turned with a smile, leaning closer.
"What is it, sweetie?"
"Why did those people make Daddy so angry?" Charlie asked.
She stroked Charlie's hair gently, whispering,
"It's nothing for you to worry about, my love. Your father has seen a lot of things in his life that make him angry. But we're not in those times anymore. For now, let's focus on our new life here. There are so many adventures waiting for you." Lilith replied, trying to redirect her daughter's attention.
With a loving smile, Lilith took out a small, ornately decorated bird box from beneath the blankets. It wasn't large, but its beauty shone brightly in the dim light of the lanterns.
"Charlie, I have a special surprise for you." She opened the box to reveal tiny carvings of colorful birds, nestled within soft cotton.
"What is it?" The focus of Charlie's gaze widened, drawn to the treasure.
"This was my mother's." Lilith explained, lifting the box gently. "For years, I kept it hidden from my father, so he couldn't pawn it away. It's the only thing of value I have ever owned. When she knew she was going to die, she gave it to me. She said that the bird's song would sing to me in her place. And now, it'll do the same for you on the nights when I can't sing to you."
Charlie stared at the box, her heart swelling with appreciation.
"It's beautiful, Mama! Can I keep it by my bed?"
"Of course, my love." Lilith smiled, watching as Charlie cradled the box in her small hands, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings.
"Will you sing to me now?" Charlie asked, looking up at her mother with wide eyes.
Lilith chuckled softly,
"Yes, sweetheart. I'll sing for you until you fall asleep."
As she began to hum a gentle lullaby, the warmth of the fire outside flickered through the wagon, while the sound of Lilith's soothing voice wrapped around Charlie like a soft blanket. With the comforting weight of the bird box beside her, Charlie felt safe and content, allowing the melodies to carry her into a realm of dreams.