Heart of the Sandhills (25 page)

“Tell me what happened,” she demanded.

“It was the day of the Wagon Box fight—”

“Wagon Box fight? You were in a battle?” Her voice wavered. “You didn’t tell me you were in a battle. What of Aaron? Elliot? Were they hurt?”

“Elliot wasn’t even in the fight. Aaron did himself proud. Didn’t get a scratch.”

“Robert? Big Amos?”

Willets described the two scouts’ injuries, hurrying to say, “But when I left they were on the mend. In fact, Robert was really angry I wouldn’t let him come for you.” He made an attempt at a joke. “Guess he didn’t think a white man could travel fast enough.”

“The Wagon Box fight. Tell me,” Gen said. She was concentrating on the clouds in the distance while she waited for him to answer.

“Right. Well—” Willets spent the next half hour or more detailing everything he knew about the fight. “Aaron’s going to be a first-rate soldier. He’s a good shot and he didn’t lose his nerve. Even Picotte thought he did well, and Picotte doesn’t hand out praise lightly.”

Gen nodded. “Now tell me how my husband was hurt.”

“Near as we can tell, he went off a cliff with the stallion. Two Moons found him at the bottom of a canyon, said the stallion was alongside him. Dead, of course.”

“Two Moons?” Gen frowned and looked at John.

“She’s Lakota. She found Daniel and took him into some camp. Probably saved his life.”

“And this Two Moons is where?”

“Still at the fort, I guess. At least she was there when I left. Wanted to watch over Daniel herself.”

Gen looked up at the gray sky, then back down at her hands. She held them out toward the fire. “How long was Daniel missing?”

“Less than two weeks.”

Gen rubbed her hands together and looked up at Willets. “Are you telling me the truth, or is Daniel already dead and you are afraid to tell me?”

When he wouldn’t look her in the eye but instead searched the hillside behind her while he swiped his hand over his blond goatee, Gen covered her face with her hands.

“No—no, Genevieve. Don’t. Don’t cry. It isn’t—” Impulsively, he reached over and pulled her hands away from her face. He lifted her chin and shook his head. “It isn’t that. But there is something I haven’t told you.” ‘When her blue eyes filled with tears he swiped them away with his thumb. “Doctor Grainger came out to meet us when we brought Daniel back. He,” Willets gulped, “he said Daniel would die if he didn’t operate.

“Operate?” Gen said the word as if she had never heard it before. “What kind of operating?”

“His leg, Genevieve. Doctor Grainger had to take it.”

For a moment it was as if the words didn’t make sense to her. She looked down at John’s hands holding hers. Then she snatched her hands away. “
They cut off his leg?!
”

“Only below the knee. Had to. Gangrene was starting. Do you know what that is?”

Gen nodded. “Blackness. When I was in New York, some of the men they sent back from the battlefield—” She closed her eyes and shuddered. When she opened them again, there were no tears. She began to ask questions rapid-fire.

“Where was the gangrene?”

“His ankle.”

“And the wound?”

“One just below the knee. Another down at the ankle.”

“Where did the doctor cut?”

“Just below the knee.”

“Show me.” She reached over to his leg. “Here?” she touched a spot. “Or here?”

“Just there,” Willets said, sliding his hand across his leg about three inches below the knee.

“What did Daniel say?”

“He doesn’t know. At least he didn’t. He wasn’t awake when we found him.”

“Unconscious, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Only a few hours.”

She nodded. “Does he know I am coming?”

“No.”

“And does he know they took his leg?”

“No. At least he didn’t when it happened.”

“Hurry,” she said, “we must hurry.”

Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort: thou hast given commandment to save me; for thou art my rock and my fortress.

—Psalm 71:3

Six days they had been on the trail. She had had six days to pray and prepare, but when she stood at the foot of Daniel’s bed, she wasn’t prepared at all. He looked small and weak. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and he hadn’t responded at all to the sound of footsteps approaching. Beneath the blankets she could see the outline of what was left of his leg. They had it elevated on a pillow. She could also see where it ended, and that, combined with the smell of alcohol and medicines in the room, made her stomach lurch.

His bed was near a window against the far wall, but it was dark and the only thing visible in the window was the reflection of the oil lamp burning low on his bedside table.

And Two Moons was there, for Gen knew it must be her, the small dark-eyed woman sitting on a chair beside her Daniel’s bed.

The woman named Two Moons looked at Gen without expression, as if to say, “So. You are here.” But she didn’t offer to get up and give Gen her chair.

“Two Moons,” John Willets whispered. “This is Daniel’s wife. Genevieve.”

Genevieve reached out. “You saved him. Thank you.”

Two Moons nodded and shrugged, as if to say, “It was nothing.”

Gen looked at her wondering what it was that had inspired her to care for a stranger from another tribe—a tribe her people considered cowards. She had wondered about Two Moons before, and the only answer she was able to invent was that Two Moons was God’s answer to all her prayers for Daniel. Now, as she stood looking at the woman, she felt a little unsure of herself. Sorry that Two Moons was so young. John hadn’t mentioned that. Hadn’t mentioned she was pretty, either.

“Blue Eyes?” His voice was barely audible, but she heard her name and all the thoughts about Two Moons dissolved in the joy at hearing what she thought at that moment was the most beautiful sound on earth. She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I am here, best beloved,” she whispered. Just barely, his lips turned up at the corners. Beneath the blanket, his hand moved. When she pulled away the blankets and slipped her hand beneath his, he took a deep breath and fell back to sleep. Someone slid a chair up behind her. She sat down and rested her cheek against his hand on the bed.

When next Gen opened her eyes, gray light was filtering through the windows in the hospital. She stayed still for a moment, listening to Daniel’s even breathing with her eyes closed. Her back ached and she grunted softly with the effort to move. When she pushed herself upright, she rubbed her sore neck and stretched, then watched Daniel for a few moments. On the opposite side of the bed there was a table with assorted bottles and bandages neatly arranged beside a water bucket. She took a drink, then used a second cupful to dab at her face. She was horrified at what came off her face onto the towel. She must look awful. She looked over her shoulder at her sleeping husband.

“Two Moons?” he croaked.

“No. It’s me.” She kissed his cheek, then his forehead, brushing his dark hair away from his face.

He frowned slightly, as if trying to comprehend. “I thought I was dreaming.” He opened his eyes and when they focused on her face, he smiled. “A good dream.” He asked for water. When she slipped her arm beneath his head to help him drink, he tried to help himself sit up, but after two gulps of water he had to lie back down, exhausted. She thought he was asleep until he moved his good leg and winced.

“What is it?” she asked.

He grimaced. “Leg hurts.”

“I’ll get the doctor.”

“No. Don’t—don’t go. He’ll come.” He took a couple of deep breaths and fell back to sleep.

Later that morning Dr. Grainger took Gen aside and explained everything that had been done, everything to expect. “It’s infected, but wounds always get infected. It’s getting better. The drain is out. I left a few stitches in, but we can take those out soon.”

“He complained of pain,” Gen said. “He never complains about pain.”

“Phantom pain,” the doctor said. “His brain doesn’t realize the leg is gone. Everyone experiences it. And it can be fairly intense.”

Gen nodded. “What can I do for him?”

“Just what you are doing. But you certainly don’t need to spend every minute in here. I told Two Moons the same thing. He’s out of danger.”

“Where else would I want to be?”

“Well,” Grainger said, “some wives in this situation would want to be anywhere but the hospital.”

“Then I guess I am not ‘some wives.’ Can you show me how to change the bandage?”

“Of course. Is there anything you need?”

Gen shook her head. “Only for my husband to be all right.”

“Because of the other injuries, this is going to take a little longer, but usually we can fit him with a wooden leg by the end of the third week.”

Gen gulped and nodded.

“It won’t be long before we can get him up. Picotte is quite a hand at whittling. I’ve got him working on something.” He smiled and nodded encouragement. “I know this seems a terrible tragedy, Mrs. Two Stars. And it will take a while for him to adjust. But I’ve seen men do so well you would never guess they’ve had the surgery.” The doctor looked over Gen’s shoulder. “It looks like he’s resting comfortably. There’s half a company of men outside waiting to see you.”

Gen followed the doctor outside. Robert Lawrence had a permanent part just above his left ear and Big Amos would have a weak arm for a few weeks yet, but they were healthy and anxious to return to their wives in Nebraska before snowfall.

“We’ll get him up and moving,” Robert promised. “We’re not leaving without you.”

“I’ve several letters for you,” Elliot said. “Jane is hoping you and Daniel will come back to New York with Aaron and me. He can recuperate under our doctor at home.” He held up his hook. “Obviously the man knows what he’s doing with this sort of thing.”

Even Edward Pope had come to say hello, his head bobbing up and down nervously as he promised an unending supply of soup as soon as Daniel’s appetite returned.

But Aaron. Seeing Aaron opened the floodgates.

“Ma!” he swept her up into his strong arms and whirled her around and set her back down after a fierce hug.

Gen reached up to pat his cheek, now covered with a week’s growth of beard—he had decided just a goatee like Captain Willets’s was not quite enough, he explained nervously. She put her hands on his arms to “get a good look” at him and felt the rock hard muscles beneath his uniform, and she burst into tears because he was all grown up now and he was a man who didn’t need a mother anymore and he had been in a battle and could have been killed but here he was, growing a beard and laughing and happy, and suddenly she realized again that she could have lost not only her best beloved but Aaron too, but God had been good and brought them both through and oh, Lord, if only Daniel would weather this trial, everything would be all right.

The joy and relief and the fear washed over her all at once. She laughed and said it was all right, but she could not make herself stop crying. John Willets, who had been in the background of it all, handed her a clean white handkerchief. She hid her face in it while the men looked on nervously. Finally, she waved them all away with a promise to let them see Daniel in the afternoon after Dr. Grainger’s visit.

Everyone left except Aaron. “Come on, Ma. Let’s walk over to the barracks. The fresh air will do you good, and you can see a little of Fort Phil Kearney.”

“I’ve seen all of Fort Phil Kearney I care about,” she said, “but a walk will do me good.” She put her arm through Aaron’s and allowed herself to be led away. Behind her, she saw Two Moons slip into the infirmary.

“Tell me what you know about Two Moons,” she said to Aaron as they walked.

“Captain Willets seems to think she’s some kind of healer or something. She hasn’t had much to say about herself. She told the captain she had a husband and a child. Apparently the army killed them, although we can’t figure where. Doesn’t seem possible she was at Sand Creek, but from what she said happened, it must have been there. But that was Cheyennes, not Lakota. And she only talks Lakota. She seems a little—odd.”

“What do you mean,
odd
?”

“Like something just isn’t quite right—up here,” he tapped his temple.

“If her family really died that way,” Gen said quietly, “it’s no wonder. Remember the women in the outbreak—the ones the worst happened to?”

Aaron was quiet for a moment. “Yes. Of course.” They walked on silently while Gen looked around her. Finally Aaron offered, “She’s amazingly gentle with anything hurt. Animals and people alike. Doesn’t matter which. There was a dog last week that got chewed up pretty good in a fight. Two Moons has it in a box over at the sutler’s and tends it. The thing won’t let anybody but her near it. But it’s tame as Amanda’s lap dog with her.”

Amanda. So he still thinks about her
. Gen shoved the topic of Amanda Whitrock to the back of her mind. “Is that where she’s been—Two Moons, I mean—since I came?”

Aaron shrugged. “Probably.”

“Tell me about yourself. John said you were in something they are calling the Wagon Box fight. He said you’re becoming a good soldier.”

It was all Aaron needed. For the next few minutes he talked nonstop and in that time Genevieve realized, with a sense of dread, that Aaron Dane had indeed found his calling. He was a born soldier. Part of her was filled with regret for the sake of his father, who would no doubt have preferred him to be a missionary. And it almost seemed that he had the heart of a pastor in ways. His faith was strong. He punctuated his speech about the fight with thankfulness to God for protecting him. He even mentioned concern for a few of the men he had gotten to know since being at the fort. It was obvious he had a sense of God’s hand in the details of his life. But Aaron Dane was never going to make a missionary—at least not in the traditional sense of the word.

They circled around the parade ground and then headed back to the infirmary. As they mounted the steps Two Moons appeared at the door and sidled down the stairs to leave.

“Wait,” Gen called. “Don’t go.” Frustrated by the language barrier, she asked Aaron to get Picotte to translate for her.

“What do you want to tell her, Ma?” Aaron said, smiling a boyish smile. “I’ve been learning Lakota.”

“I just need to thank her. To tell her she must come and visit any time she likes. And I want her to know that my saying the words is not enough.” Gen’s voice wavered. “Somehow I want her to know that when she saved Daniel she gave me back my life. I will never be able to repay her.”

Aaron began to talk. But he had only spoken a few words when Two Moons held her hand up, interrupting him. She said a few words and touched Gen’s arm. Smiling shyly, she headed for the sutler’s.

Gen watched her go, then turned to Aaron for an explanation.

“She watched your face when you were talking,” Aaron said. “And she saw Daniel’s face when he realized you were here. There is nothing else to say.”

“Blue Eyes.”

It was early afternoon. Gen had closed her eyes and was nearly asleep sitting upright in the chair beside Daniel’s bed. She started awake, and when she opened her eyes he was looking at her with a real smile.

“Did you make the red dress?”

Gen nodded and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the edge of the mattress. “Of course. And a blue one. And some shirts for you. And we have money left.”

But Daniel wasn’t asking for an accounting of the family finances. He was feeling better and his mind had wandered to other things. “Did you remember—about the buttons?” There was a hint of the old Daniel in the brown eyes.

Gen nodded and blushed.

He grinned. “Can you help me sit up?”

‘When she leaned across him to grab an extra pillow, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “I love you, little wife,” he whispered.

“And I love you,” she said breathlessly, “but Dr. Grainger is due in here any minute and—”

“Oh, all right,” he muttered, letting go. Wincing and grunting with the effort, he raised up on one elbow so she could tuck an extra pillow behind him. When he was comfortably propped up, he opened his arms to her. “Now come back here,” he ordered, “just for a minute. I promise not to embarrass you in front of the good doctor.”