I can't believe it's almost been two years since I posted any fanfics, but I'm back with something new! This one actually came out of a conversation with my friend poetlaurie, about the history of the Harvey Girls (among other western things), and eventually turned into a full-fledged story collaboration. We're trying to stay as true to real history as possible - everything has been well-researched, and you can find many of the images that inspired us on my Pinterest board "Jessie's Journey" (link on my profile). Our goal is to publish new chapters once a month, as our busy lives allow.

Toy Story still doesn't belong to us, only this long-ago world we've created for them does. Enjoy, and please leave us a review!

Chapter 1

"Jessamine Jane Pride, you are going to accept his offer of marriage, and that's final!"

Jessie could still hear her mother's irate voice ringing in her ears, more loudly than the clickety-clack of the train on the rails carrying her westward. She slumped in her seat.

"Sit up like a lady!"

Her rich, dour Aunt Molly - with all her rules of propriety and ladylike behavior - now stood next to her mother in her imagination, both scowling with disapproval. Jessie shook her head, trying to clear the unpleasant image from her mind. 'Not anymore,' she told herself.

It had barely been a month since she escaped the stifling prison of her aunt's stately rowhouse in St. Louis, yet it felt like an eternity. Jessie's mind couldn't help but wander back to the chain of events that had led her to where she now found herself, being propelled toward a fresh start as much by her former life as by the engine that chugged ever forward.

Emily Pride marched into the family's parlor at the sounds of raised voices and found her two children wrestling on the floor. She forcibly pulled her young daughter from the back of her brother, just as the girl had pinned him to the floor. Grabbing her son by the arm, Emily dragged both offspring across the room and practically threw them onto the stiffly upholstered settee.

"A lady does not yell. A lady does not hit. A lady does not manhandle her brother!"

Jessie sighed at her mother's remonstrances and crossed her arms defiantly as she slouched into the seat. "A 'lady' don't get to do anythin' fun."

Emily bristled at her daughter's perceived impertinence, and pointed angrily towards the staircase. "A lady sits in her room and reflects upon her disgraceful behavior!"

"Hmmph, thought she said a lady don't yell," Jessie mumbled, as she trudged toward the stairs. Woody failed to suppress a chuckle.

"Woodrow Pride, do not encourage your sister! You are not absolved from your part in this, young man." The words faded behind Jessie as she stomped up the stairs and slammed her door shut.

Thus was the constant plight of Jessie's childhood: facing her mother's disapproval at every turn. From the start, she was willful, and stubborn, and independent - at least that's what her mother called her, resentful that she hadn't gotten the meek, submissive little girl she had expected. Jessie would much rather have trailed after her older brother than learn how to be a future wife and occupy her days with genteel pursuits. Passages read aloud from the leading etiquette manuals made no impression on her; neither did reminding the young girl of her "faults" and how she was supposed to behave if she was ever going to marry well.

Fortunately, Jessie had a close friend and ally in her brother, Woody. The two were inseparable. In their imaginations (and their backyard), they were the Roundup Gang, saving the good people of the western frontier from the crimes of outlaws. And when they were older, as soon as they were free from their studies and chores, they would sit together reading about the Wild West, about cowboys and bandits and ranches and raids, and dreaming about making lives for themselves there someday on a ranch of their own. That is, whenever their mother didn't catch them at it.

"Such… crudeness... is not an appropriate subject for a lady, Jessamine." Emily frowned at the sight of Jessie reading a newspaper article about a western shootout, and snatched it from her daughter's hands.

Jessie flinched at the sudden action, then twisted her face in defiance. "Why is nothin' INTERESTING ever an appropriate subject?"

"NOTHING, Jessamine, NOTHING," her mother chided, crumpling the offending literature with authority. "Must you speak like a country bumpkin?"

"But we ARE country folks, Momma. Aunt Molly is the only city-folk of our kin."

Jessie had only heard bits and pieces of family stories over the years, but she knew their rural life was a sore subject for her mother. Emily never failed to remind her that, just as her parents had expected her to make a wealthy match, she expected no less of her own daughter. Andrew Pride, the proprietor and owner of a general store, provided his wife and two children with a comfortable life in their small town of Walnut Grove, Missouri. However, it was Jessie's Aunt Molly - Emily's younger sister - who had found the greater fortune in matrimony. Molly relished retelling the tale of how she had only been out in society for a few months when she went to visit a friend in St. Louis, and returned home engaged to a wealthy banker. Cyril Hollingsworth was almost thirty years her senior, but their wedding was lavish; Jessie often studied the old family photo that sat in a frame in the parlor, showing Molly dressed in bridal finery and Emily with baby Woodrow on her hip, her face failing to hide the profound resentment in her heart. Molly's husband died only five years into their marriage, leaving her a substantial inheritance and a spacious townhouse on Lafayette Square. Though Emily was the most socially prominent woman in their little community, she was nevertheless bitter over what she saw as an injustice. This drove Andrew to spend even more time at his store, leaving the Pride children at their mother's mercy.

Aunt Molly, though not particularly generous by nature, often extended offers to the Prides to come visit her in St. Louis. Emily was not so ungracious as to refuse, despite her jealousy; such visits provided her children an opportunity to interact with a higher class of society, and a chance to achieve the status that had eluded her. Woody and Jessie, however, were not at all interested in stuffy social pursuits, and on one occasion in 1885, the two siblings sneaked off to see Buffalo Bill's Wild West show, which was visiting the city. When Annie Oakley entered the arena, Jessie was captivated by the lively girl who performed daring tricks and hit targets better than anyone; and before they left, Woody bought his sister a cabinet card with the sharpshooter's image on it, which became a prized possession and a source of inspiration to the free-spirited teenager.

The show only added fuel to the fire for Woody. His dreams to travel west had never faded, even as life continued to be more locally-focused as he took on more responsibilities at his father's store. He saved his wages and pored over newspaper ads before finding one for a deputy sheriff position in Texas. Telegrams were exchanged, and within days he was packed and heading west. Jessie saw him off at the station, wishing for all the world that she could accompany him. Amidst the tearful goodbyes of other passengers, he hugged her tightly.

"Are you gonna be okay here without me?" Woody's brow furrowed in worry. "You know I'll stay if you need me to."

She forced a smile, not wanting him to give up on his dreams just for her. "Course I will. I'll manage, anyway. You better write me when you get there and tell me all about the adventures you're havin'."

"And you better come out west as soon as I'm good and settled. This job is just a start; I'll keep moving on 'til we have what we've always wanted. You're gonna have a ranch to help me run someday."

"Don't you worry; I'll find a way."

Finding a way, however, took longer than she'd hoped. Seven agonizing years followed of small town socials, St. Louis balls, and other gatherings meant to foster courtship and lead to matrimony - yet Jessie remained unmarried, not even betrothed. Suitors didn't stick around for long, once they realized how headstrong she was - not that she was sad to see them go. Most of them bored her, with their mousy looks and bland personalities, only wanting a woman to keep house for them and bear them children. Jessie wanted so much more than that out of life, especially the more she read Woody's letters. When a proposal finally came - and was refused - Emily had had enough. Now, her mother told her, at 25 years of age, Jessie would soon be considered unmarriageable, and something must be done before her options completely ran out. She was promptly shipped off to her aunt's house in St. Louis, Emily and Molly taking matters into their own hands.

Jessie arrived at Aunt Molly's in early November, expecting her aunt to force her to attend the numerous social events held during the holiday social season, in order to find a husband. Instead, only a few days after Jessie's arrival, Aunt Molly requested her presence in the parlor. Once there, she was faced with a man who reminded her less of a person and more of a walrus.

"Jessamine, I'd like to introduce you to a personal acquaintance of mine, Mr. Wilfred Mayer. He was recently widowed and is in need of a new mother for his large family. I spoke to him of you and he thinks you should suit those purposes quite nicely."

"She is somewhat plainer than you described her, Mrs. Hollingsworth," the gray-haired and bespectacled man replied, staring at Jessie as if she was a purchase to be made. "And her frame seems a bit too slight for maternal proclivities, but yes, I believe she will do sufficiently. Arrangements will be made for the first of the new year."

Jessie bristled as they spoke of her as if she wasn't in the room, and steeled herself to speak in her own defense. "I am sorry, sir, but I am most definitely NOT suited to your purposes," she spat out defiantly.

"Jessamine!" Aunt Molly gasped. "You will apologize for your incivility at once!"

"I'll do nothin' of the sort!" Jessie cried. "I ain't some doll to be bought in a store! And I refuse to be married off without my consent!"

Mr. Mayer raised to his feet, an offended scowl deforming his already-unattractive features. "I am not accustomed to being disrespected and insulted in such a fashion. You will receive no further calls from me, Miss Pride, I assure you." He shoved his top hat onto his head with authority and addressed his hostess with a huff. "Good. Day."

No sooner had he exited the dwelling than Aunt Molly flew at Jessie in a rage.

"Are you aware how much Mr. Mayer is worth? I sincerely hope I can secure his forgiveness, and convince him that you'll agree to marry him and be a suitably deferential wife."

"But I don't WANT to marry him! He's older'n Pa, for cryin' out loud! And all those etiquette books you and Momma made me read, even they said I don't HAVE to agree!"

"That's really only for young women, dear, with several prospects," she snapped bitterly. " You are neither. And you are increasingly becoming a disappointment and a burden on this family."

"Then, fine, I'll support myself. I ain't afraid of workin'; I've been helpin' Pa in his store for a while now. I don't need handouts from anyone, most of all YOU."

"Working women are a disgrace. I won't tolerate one of my relation. You WILL reconsider this match, and understand that this is your ONLY socially acceptable option."

"I will NOT consider that man!"

"I cannot comprehend why you are being so impossible about this." Molly massaged her temples, trying to fend off the headache that was beginning to set in. "When your mother was presented with her final option, she didn't object. She did her duty and married him. And you, Jessamine, must follow suit and marry who we have chosen for you. We will not be responsible for your willful spinsterhood any longer!"

"Momma… and Pa?" The unhappy realization of her parents' past hit her like a ton of bricks. Her father's quiet sadness, her mother's bitterness all made sense now, and she twisted her face in anger and resentment. History wasn't going to repeat itself, not with her. "Blast your society and all its stupid rules! I'll be responsible for myself!"

Jessie stormed up the grand staircase to her room, tears hot on her cheeks, and slammed the door behind her. She knelt in front of the trunk she had brought with her - that had barely even been unpacked yet - and flung open its heavy lid with force.

"Where's Woody's letter?" she choked out between sobs, tossing the trunk's contents on the floor around her, including a smaller leather suitcase she had carried on the train. "Where in tarnation is it? I need it!" At last she located the correspondence in the suitcase; she ripped it from its envelope, and unfolded it, frantically scanning it for the information she was seeking…

I know you've been looking for a way to come west. I might've found your chance - until I'm at a place where we can get that ranch started, at least. There are a chain of restaurants, called Harvey Houses, attached to the Santa Fe train depots. They're all over, but there are several here in California - you'd love California, Jess, I've never once regretted taking the Marshal job here. Anyway, they're awful nice places - I visit them a lot in my travels, don't know why I didn't think of them before. They hire women ages 18-30 as waitresses, and it's completely respectable work. The employment office is in Kansas City. You need to get out of there, and come west where you belong. Besides, I miss my wild little sis. Consider it, Jess.

"Ha!" She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Nothin' but a burden to this family, huh? Not all of it. I'll show them!"

Jessie rifled through her things to find the most serviceable of her clothes - solid skirts, print shirtwaists, a sensible pair of high-laced boots, underpinnings and nightgowns, and a traveling suit and hat to wear to the employment office - leaving the formal clothing she hated at the bottom of the trunk. She also grabbed her jewelry - in case she might need to sell it for living expenses - in addition to the cash she had brought with her, earned by helping in her father's store. Most importantly, she set aside her most cherished possessions: a book about Buffalo Bill that Woody had sent her for Christmas several years prior, with the Annie Oakley souvenir and ticket stub from the Wild West show tucked inside, and all of Woody's letters since he went west. Collecting everything but the clothing she'd need to wear on her journey, Jessie stuffed her necessary items into the leather suitcase, and set it aside while she wrote two letters - one to Aunt Molly, telling her goodbye and good riddance; and one to Woody, telling him she would soon be coming his way.

Dressed in the tailored navy blue skirt and matching bodice she had chosen the night before, her hair braided and pinned in a tasteful updo and topped off with a stylish hat, Jessie donned her overcoat and crept stealthily down the stairs and out the back door of Aunt Molly's townhouse, under the cover of pre-dawn darkness. She hastened along the nearly-empty streets to the train station, where she purchased a ticket on the next train to Kansas City. There was no time to write a letter of introduction; she would just show up at the Harvey offices, and they'd hire her. There was no other option.

Jessie's interview at the Harvey employment office was daunting, but successful; and having signed all requisite paperwork committing her to a year of service and attesting to her character, Jessie asked, please, if it was at all possible, could she be sent somewhere in California, to be close to her brother? Knowing that having family ties nearby would make her a better and happier worker, her request was granted. After a month of training in Topeka, Kansas, she'd be sent to Barstow, California, to be a "Harvey Girl" in a restaurant only recently rebuilt after a fire. Jessie managed to compose herself until she exited the building, but once on the street she let out a loud "Yeehaw!" She was finally heading west.

Jessie took in a deep, steadying breath then exhaled, and looked out the window at the wide, western landscape spreading out before her. The desert sands and mountains seemed to go on forever, and the clear blue sky was bigger and brighter than she'd ever seen. Surely the possibilities for her life were still as wide open? They had to be. If girls like Annie Oakley could make their own way in the world, Jessie Pride could, too. The promise of freedom and opportunity, for women as well as men, beckoned to her, and she accepted the challenge wholeheartedly.

"Barstow, California!"

The voice of the Conductor brought Jessie back from her daydream with a start. Her journey had been a long one - despite the fine rail accommodations her new employer had provided, her body felt the exhaustion of two days' travel - but finally, she had reached her stop!

Jessie stepped off the train and looked up at the imposing wood-frame Santa Fe depot building rising in front of her, oblivious to the bustle of disembarking passengers on the platform. She breathed in the invigorating California air, for the first time. It was December, 1893, but there was none of the winter chill of her former home.

This was going to be her new life.

Historical Notes: Harvey Houses actually existed; they were restaurants and hotels attached to Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe railroad depots throughout the Southwestern United States, between 1876 and 1968. There really was a Harvey House in Barstow, CA, and we chose this location for our story because eventually it was named "Casa del Desierto" (mi floricita del desierto… get it?). However, at this point in history, it didn't bear that name yet. Also, I grew up in Southern California, so I can write of the landscape from personal experience. The long title of the fic is a reference to typical story titles of the late 19th century.