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a simple piece of civilised behaviour endeared itself to Fanny. It made her feel cleansed, even forgiven, by whatever spirit might be watching her from beyond the bright wide sky. Out here she was just another young woman making her way in a new land. But there was also a strong thread of defiance in operation. She was not harming anyone, after all. Something of her early ambitions returned to her – bringing relief and pleasure to lonely men, pioneers who were following their own way for a host of different reasons. They deserved some female company, and surely it was not sinful to provide it for them.
    She said nothing of this to Carola, knowing these ideals were as fragile as soap bubbles, already bursting into nothingness after one single evening. Her own intentions were immaterial to the men she would serve. They cared nothing for her reasons. A few might thank her, but by reason of the payment they made they would never see her as an equally worthwhile individual to themselves. By taking their money she became a commodity herself. Already, this was dimly apparent to her. Already she understood that something crucial was about to be lost.
    â€˜What are you thinking?’ asked Carola after a prolonged silence.
    â€˜Oh – nothing,’ came the reply, too quickly.
    â€˜Liar.’
    â€˜It’s not easy to render into words. My head is a great jumble. Everything is rushing so fast. It’s like being on a mudslide, tumbling down to the water and quite unable to stop.’
    â€˜You have been on a mudslide, then?’
    Fanny laughed. ‘I have come close a few times.’
    â€˜So have we all. But Fan – we might just as easily be on a ladder to fortune, if we keep our heads. Besides, it’s too late to turn back now.’
    â€˜Just as if we were on a mudslide,’ persisted Fanny darkly. ‘On a ladder, it’s possible to get back to the ground without mishap.’
    â€˜Keep your eyes to the front,’ Carola instructed. ‘Imagine we’re soldiers, marching forth to greatness.’
    â€˜I will,’ vowed Fanny, suppressing the tremor of dread as to what that evening might bring.
    They made no haste to leave the balmy spot. Carola had brought a basket containing apples and bread for their nooning, along with a bottle of beer. She laid the meagre fare on the grass and invited Fanny to partake. ‘We must call into the store on the way back and buy some cooked meat,’ she said. ‘I have a great craving for meat.’
    Fanny’s gaze was on the mountains to the east, which she had not revisited since crossing them with her family and all the others on the wagon train. In fact, she was no longer certain of the way they had come, and would have found it impossible to retrace their steps. She had heard it said that no woman made the journey twice, in any case. If she persisted in returning to Providence or Boston, she would go by ship, down to the Cape and up the endless coast on the other side. She had seen it on the maps and quailed at the distance. It would take months, and be almost as hazardous as the migration had been – more, perhaps. ‘We have little choice but to remain here and make what we can of our lives,’ she sighed.
    â€˜I for one have no reason to complain,’ said Carola. ‘It was my own decision. I had to plead with my brothers to bring me with them. I cannot pretend to be disappointed. Dear Fanny, I so wish you to look to the brighter side of things. The die is cast and we will win or lose by our own efforts.’
    â€˜I know that’s true. But I cannot quite see what winning or losing might involve, precisely. My vision has dimmed for the moment.’
    But then a figure came before her eyes that seemed to deliberately confound her words. Long legs, a rough brown coat and a great grinning head obscured the mountains, looming at her as she sat back on the grass, almost prone. ‘Oh!’ she