Chapter 1 The Riverboro Stagecoach Mr. Jeremiah Cobb had just picked up the mail in Maplewood.
The packages and letters were carefully stored on the back of his old stagecoach.
He was about to leave when Mrs. Randall stopped him and asked, Is this the coach to Riverboro?
The kind old man smiled and said that yes, it was the coach to Riverboro.
Mrs. Randall nodded to a young girl standing beside an old wagon.
The girl eagerly ran over to them.
Rebecca was eleven years old, but she looked small for her age.
Her dark hair was braided, and she wore a straw hat.
"'Could you please take Rebecca to my sister's house in Riverboro?'
Mrs. Randall asked.
"'Do you know Miranda and Jane Sawyer?
They live in the old brick house.'
Mr. Cobb smiled and said, Why, I know them as well as I know my own family.
I'm Jeremiah Cobb.
I live just up the way from your sisters.
It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cobb.
Mrs. Randall helped Rebecca up and into the coach.
Then she paid the fare.
Mr. Cobb loaded the girl's trunk safely on the back, beside the mail.
My sisters are expecting her.
I should warn you, she needs to be watched all the time.
She loves being around people and does like to talk.
Mrs. Randall glanced at her daughter sternly.
She gets too excited sometimes.
Rebecca stuck her head out of the coach's window and said, Goodbye, Mother.
Don't worry.
It's not as if I haven't traveled before.
Her mother laughed.
Silly duck, she said.
Mrs. Randall turned to Mr. Cobb and explained.
She spent one night away from home at her cousin's, and now she's a world traveler.
But it was traveling, Mother, Rebecca replied.
I did leave the farm.
I did pack a bag.
I did take a nightgown.
Mrs Randall shook her head and said Rebecca, it's not proper to talk about nightgowns in front of Mr Cobb.
Please remember that you are a young lady.
Mr. Cobb smiled, and the stagecoach started on its way.
As it left, Rebecca leaned her head even farther out the window.
I'm sorry, Mother, she yelled.
All I wanted to say was that it is a journey when you carry a nightgown.
With that, the old stagecoach rode off along the dusty road from Maplewood to Riverboro.
It was so warm that it felt more like midsummer than mid-May.
Mr. Cobb held the reins loosely in his hands, and the horses trotted happily along.
Mrs. Randall watched the coach as it rode away, kicking dust up in its path.
The packages and supplies she and Rebecca had brought earlier that day sat on the ground.
Mrs. Randall picked them up and put them in the wagon.
In the distance, the coach grew smaller and smaller.
My sister Miranda will have her hands full with that girl, she thought.
Living in that house with my sisters will do wonders for Rebecca.
She'll have every opportunity to become the best girl she can become.
I think a good education will be the making of her.