(Editor’s note: This is believed to be the first letter Montgomery G. Jenkins received from his beloved Martha during his trek.)
February 13, 1849
My dear Monty,
I just recently received all of your letters from January in the post and it is most certainly a mighty stack indeed. It has taken quite a number of sessions to read them all as I have found myself overcome with exhaustion each time.
The last letter I received was dated Jan. 20, but I have received nothing hence. Perhaps it is merely the winter slowing delivery, but I do hope you are well and the afflictions of the bowels, sinuses and skin that you were previously suffering have subsided. Have you been applying the ointments as the doctor prescribed?
Also be sure to wear the woolen socks that I packed for you to bed each night. The cold will be the death of you without them, especially without me to warm your toes in our bed!
Your camp and the inn sound lovely, although I don’t envision my delicate frame withstanding the cold and snow and mud and muck nearly as well as a grand and sturdy and handsome adventurer such as yourself.
I will learn to make the salted venison soup that you suggested, and the butcher has assured me that he can provide me with all the finest cuts. In fact, all of the men in town have been so kind and attentive in your absence. The tailor even offered to hem my dress while I was still wearing it!
Why do you keep mentioning whores in your letters? All I want is for you to return home safe and sound, uninjured and free from any and all social and communicable diseases. (I would also very much like for you to return home with wagons full of gold. Of that, I most certainly would not complain. … But short of that, uninjured and disease free please.)
An update on the children: All are still alive and in good health. Thomas and William continue to grow like weeds and eat more than my cold storage can handle. Thomas is doing well in his studies and is proving to be a wordsmith much like his father (it seems like just yesterday that he was only learning his letters and numbers). William, meanwhile, has discovered his nether regions and believes that I cannot hear him in his bedchambers. All five of the girls are in fair health save Abigail, whose asthmatic tendencies are stirred whenever Toby, a stray tomcat that followed Tabitha home from her lessons, is present.
On your return I would like you to build me another cold storage. I have started a small inn where I let weary travelers rest. Our first visitors were quite like you but in fact handsome, rugged and sturdy. These men paid much attention to me as well and claimed I had the best corn and beet soup in all of Massachusetts.
I have repaired the hole in the wash tub with wax, as you suggested.
Lest I forget, what of the stranger and your funds? Can I assume by your conspicuous lack of mention on that matter that you were duped? How many times have I warned you of unscrupulous types such as he? Do you not remember the lad with the covered bridge contract? Or the ill-fated investment in the cattle ranch? Or the so-called magician with the three cups who failed to make your $10 reappear? Really, Monty? Really?
Most devotedly yours,
Martha
PS. I carry the etching we had done of you at the fair in summer next to my bosom. I love knowing you are right here next to my heart. Come home to me, my darling, preferably with incalculable wealth, but merely intact if you must.
Chuck Schading 
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