By Roger Lea MacBride

Rose Wilder was leaving the little prairie town where she had lived her whole life. She was going to drive in a wagon with her mama and papa all the way to Missouri.

Papa said there was a place in Missouri called the Land of the Big Red Apple. Mama said they were going there to start over. Farming had been hard on the South Dakota prairie. There wasn't enough rain, and the wind blew all the time.

In Missouri they would have a new little farm. Maybe they would even grow apple trees.

Rose couldn't imagine leaving the prairie. She didn't want to go so far away from Grandma and Grandpa Ingalls. But she thought it might be fun to grow apples of their very own.

Every day there were things to do to get ready for the long trip. Papa and Mama told Rose that the Cooleys would be coming, too. Rose was happy. She knew Paul and George Cooley from school. Paul was two years older than Rose, and George was two years younger.

Mr. Cooley owned two big covered wagons. He had two teams of horses to pull them. Paul had told Rose that he would be driving one of the wagons. Papa and Mama's wagon was small. They drove it mostly on Sundays.

"Can we really drive in it all the way to Missouri, Manly?" Mama asked. Papa's name was Almanzo, but Mama had nicknamed him Manly. "How will we ever fit everything in? How will we stay dry?"

"Don't worry," said Papa. "I'll figure out a way to beat the weather."

First Papa nailed wooden posts to the wagon. Then he draped a big piece of black oilcloth over the posts. He tacked the edges of the oilcloth down tight to make a roof for the wagon.

Next, Papa made oilcloth curtains. The curtains rolled up on ropes. In good weather, the curtains would stay up. In bad weather and at night, the curtains would be rolled down and tied to the wagon. When the curtains were down, the wagon became a snug little house on wheels.

Rose helped Papa paint the wagon. They painted it black to match the curtains and the roof. When they were finished, the wagon gleamed like new. The days before the trip went quickly. One morning, Mama told Rose it was their last day. After dinner, Rose helped Mama wash and dry the dishes. Then they packed the dishes into a wooden box. All the delicate plates and cups would stay packed until they got to their new home in Missouri. They would use tin plates and cups on the journey.

That evening Rose and Mama and Papa all took baths, even though it wasn't Saturday.

Then Rose wriggled into her best calico dress. It was red, with tiny white flowers all over it like polka dots. It had a delicate lace collar that Grandma had made last Christmas.

Papa put on his Sunday suit and combed his hair and mustache. Mama wore her best dress with the white lace collar and the black shiny buttons down the front.

When they were all ready, they set out for Grandma and Grandpa's house. It was going to be their last supper together.

On the way, Papa stopped by the side of the road to pick two wild roses. "One for my little prairie Rose, who is leaving the prairie," he said, handing her a pretty pink flower.

Rose held the flower to her nose and breathed in the sweet, fresh smell.

Then Papa handed the other blossom to Mama. She smiled and let out a tiny sigh. "What is it, Bess?" Papa asked.

Mama's real name was Laura. That's what everyone else called her. But Papa called her Bess because Mama's middle name was Elizabeth.

"I was just thinking," Mama said. "I was a little girl when Ma and Pa brought my sisters and me here. There was no little town then. Only fields of grass, as far as you could ride."

Rose looked around. She tried to see the prairie in her mind with no town. She couldn't imagine how it had looked when Mama was her age.

When they reached Grandma and Grandpa's house, Grandma was standing at the stove. She looked as neat and tidy as she always did. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled back into a tidy knot at the back of her head. Into the knot, Grandma had stuck her pretty shell comb.

Rose loved Grandma's comb. Every morning, for as long as Rose could remember, Grandma had fixed her hair the same way. But now, Rose realized, she wouldn't be there to see it anymore.

Suddenly, Rose missed Grandma with all her heart, even though they hadn't left yet. She wrapped her arms around Grandma's waist and squeezed as hard as she could. Grandma's warm apron smelled of all the good things cooking in her kitchen. Pie and bread and chicken. Rose didn't ever want to let go.

"Goodness!" Grandma said. "A bear couldn't hug any tighter."

Grandpa came in from feeding his horses. Aunt Mary stirred the gravy in the pan. Aunt Grace and Aunt Carrie set the table. The house was cozy and warm. Grandma put platters of steaming hot food on the table. Rose looked around the table. She thought about having no more suppers at Grandma's house. Her eyes stung, and a hard lump rose in her throat.

After the dishes were washed, everyone went outside to sit on the front porch. A gentle breeze blew. The sweet smell of warm prairie grass filled the air. The only light came from the stars high above.

"Pa, would you play for us, one more time?" Mama asked.

"Why, yes, if you want me to," Grandpa said. "Run and get my fiddle, Laura." Mama brought the fiddle and set it on Grandpa's lap. Rose could see that Grandpa's eyes were shining. His long beard was dark against the white of his shirt.

Grandpa began to play the songs he had played for Mama and her sisters when they were little girls. Rose hummed along while the grown-ups sang. She knew some of the songs from Mama's whistling and singing, but she didn't know all of them.

Finally, the fiddle sang the last tune. Mama and Papa told Rose it was time to go home to bed.

In the morning, Papa and Mama and Rose got into the wagon before the sun had even come up. They drove to Grandma and Grandpa's house one more time to say good-bye.

Rose was so tired everything seemed like a dream. She hugged her aunts and Grandpa twice. She hugged Grandma three times. Then she climbed sleepily up over the wheel and onto the seat. She sat in between Mama and Papa.

The mares, Pet and May, were hitched to the wagon. Their colts, Little Pet and Prince, were only four months old. They stood beside their mothers sniffing the fresh morning air.

Papa tightened the reins and raised his hat. Everyone cried out all at once, "Good-bye! Good-bye! Don't forget to write!"

And then they were on their way. Mama and Papa were silent as the horses pulled the wagon through the quiet little town.

When they passed the last house, they caught up with the Cooleys. Papa stopped beside one of the Cooleys' wagons. Rose saw that Paul was driving it all by himself.

"Howdy, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder," Paul shouted. George sat next to his brother. Mrs. Cooley sat next to Mr. Cooley on the other big wagon.

Papa waved and the three wagons began their long journey.

Rose wanted to stay awake, but she couldn't keep her eyes open. Mama fixed a place in the back of the wagon where she could sleep. Rose took one last look at the little town. Then she put her head down and fell fast asleep.

If you liked chapter one of Missouri Bound, find out more about the book.

Go to the Little House Books page.