Heart of the Sandhills (9 page)

Jeb took his hat off and swiped his forehead with his sleeve. He put it back on and raised his hand to the driver of the last wagon to leave the farmyard.

“Where is Gen?” Aaron asked abruptly. He looked past Jeb down the hill to the cabins.

Jeb grasped his arm and pulled him along. “She’s safe. They all are.” Quickly, he explained the neighbor’s uneasiness about having Indian neighbors. “But after this winter, I thought that was all part of the past.”

“What changed things?” Aaron asked.

Jeb grinned at Marjorie. “Quilting,” he said.

Quinn nodded. “That’s right. Mrs. Grant invited my missus and a couple others to quilting.” He looked to Jeb and then back to Aaron. “Putting a face on things you think you hate can change your mind. Your stepma and her friend Nancy Lawrence are good women. If it’s up to me, they can live wherever they want.”

Aaron said, “But from what we saw when we rode in, that’s not how most of the rest of the neighbors feel.”

“It’s changin’,” Jeb said. “Just takes time.”

“Where are Gen and Daniel now?”

Jeb cleared his throat. “When this crowd come ridin’ in, they were pretty riled up. I got ‘em all in the barn where they could say their piece. While we was in there, Marjorie ran down and warned ‘em. Far as I know they went to an old traders place up by the Redwood. I told ‘em we’d come for ‘em when it was safe.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

Jeb nodded. “Most of ‘em wasn’t that set on causing trouble anyway.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If I could just get Abner Marsh to settle down, there wouldn’t be any more trouble. But he won’t let it go. He’s convinced Daniel was one of the three Dakota that stole some horses from him years ago.”

Aaron inhaled sharply. “A bay gelding and two others?” When Jeb nodded, Aaron continued. “Only the bay was worth anything. Otter let him go when Daniel got shot. The farmer got all his horses back.”

“You know about that?!”

Aaron nodded. “When we were in the captive camp back during the outbreak, Daniel used to tell us stories. One night he told us how he almost got killed for a horse.” Aaron sighed. “He was talking about how God had changed him. And how sin can haunt you for years after you’ve done it.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at Quinn and Grant. “It sounds like Abner Marsh could be a dangerous man.”

“Well, he’s angry. He plowed up some bones in a field the other day and he’s convinced it’s a victim of the uprising. It got him pretty stirred up.”

“Do you think he’d talk to me?” Aaron asked. “Do you think he’d listen if I told him about the Daniel I know?”

“I don’t know,” Jeb said. “Maybe. After he has a few days to calm down. He didn’t get much support today—in spite of what it looked like when you rode in.”

“If I can borrow a horse, I’d like to go get Ma and Daniel and the Lawrences and tell them they can come home now,” Aaron said quietly.

“I’ll take you,” Quinn said.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Aaron replied, “I’d rather go alone.” He looked at Jeb. “I know about the trader’s cabin.” He cleared his throat. “Fact is, Daniel stopped there during the outbreak to warn some newcomers to get away. He was trying to get some supplies to help Robert.” He leaned forward. “Robert Lawrence had gone into the agency to get a horse shod the day the trouble started. He got shot in the belly. Daniel went after him. Carried him out of the worst of things and then helped Nancy get him to safety.” He stopped abruptly. Looking at Jeb he said, “You get Abner Marsh and anyone else you can to come to a meeting. I’ll tell them a few things about Daniel Two Stars and Robert Lawrence!”

“We just might do that, son,” Jeb said. “But first let’s get ‘em back home. How well can you ride?” When Aaron looked surprised by the question, Jeb explained, “Don’t take it personal, son. I’ve heard Captain Willets up at Fort Ridgely moan about the city boys that sign up for the army and never sat a horse before. Happens all the time.”

“My Uncle Elliot started teaching me to ride as soon as I began talking about going into the military,” Aaron said.

“Well then. We’ll just saddle up Bones and send you on your way. He don’t look like much, but he loves to run.”

As the men headed for the barn, Thomas Quinn said, “I’ll drop your bag off down at the Two Starses’, Aaron,” adding, “and if you organize that meeting, let me know and I’ll be there. I don’t need any stories to convince me about Robert and Daniel, but it can’t hurt to have somebody on your side in the crowd.”

“Thank you,” Aaron said warmly. “And thank you for the ride out from town.”

Aaron and Jeb headed for the barn. Quinn murmured, “That might be a boy in years, but there’s a man inside.”

Marjorie nodded. “Maybe the good Lord is going to solve this mess after all.”

Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge . . .

—Ruth 1:16

“Don’t
tell
me it doesn’t matter!” Daniel slammed his hand down on the table with such force the coffee in Gen’s cup sloshed over the rim. Seated opposite Gen on Daniel’s left, Aaron took a sudden interest in the oatmeal left in his bowl.

The force of Daniel’s words made Genevieve flinch. He had never shouted at her before. She put her spoon down and, clasping her hands in her lap, watched a drop of coffee slide down the side of her cup and pool in the chipped saucer.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said quickly. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Gripping the edge of the table he said, “I’m not angry at you, Blue Eyes. I just—” he stopped abruptly and, pushing himself away from the table, stalked outside.

Aaron finally broke the uncomfortable silence in the cabin. “I shouldn’t have been the one to come find you and tell you it was safe to come out of hiding. I should have let Mr. Grant do that.”

Gen picked up a knife and pried a wedge of cornbread out of the pie tin in the center of the table. Sliding it onto the small plate beside Aaron’s cereal bowl she said, “I’m glad you came.” She stood up and walked around to his side of the table and patted him on the shoulder.

“I’m glad I came too, Ma. But I’m thinking about the last time he saw me. I was a young boy looking up to him like a hero. And this time—”

“This time you find him hiding out instead of defending himself,” Gen murmured.

“That would be hard on a man’s pride,” Aaron said. “Awfully hard.”

“Yes,” Gen sighed. “I suppose it would. And that would matter, wouldn’t it. A lot. I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.” She nudged the plate of cornbread toward his cereal bowl. “Finish your supper. We’ll be back directly.” She headed for the door. Just outside she hesitated. There was no lamplight spilling through the Lawrence’s window. She’d hoped to procrastinate by checking on Nancy.

“He went up toward Grants’.” Robert’s voice sounded from across the road, just barely loud enough to be heard.

“I thought you were asleep,” Gen said, making her way across the road. When she got close enough to see Robert sitting in the doorway, his rifle leaning up against the cabin, she shivered involuntarily.

“Is Nancy all right?” she asked.

“She sleeps,” he said.

“I can’t believe she managed what we—what we did today.”

“Not many women could.” Robert’s voice was so filled with pride Gen wanted to cry.

“At least she had Bones to ride on the way back,” she said weakly. “At least she didn’t have to walk all those miles twice.”

Robert stood up and pulled the door of his cabin closed behind him. “You shouldn’t be walking alone tonight. Where is Aaron?”

“He’s finishing his supper,” Gen said. “He thought—well, he thought maybe it embarrassed Daniel to have him be the one who came to get us.”

Robert considered this. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll walk you up the hill. Aaron can finish eating.”

Robert reached for his rifle. Gen tucked her hand under his arm. When they were halfway to the Grants’, Robert stopped abruptly and peered into the darkness toward the Grants’ barn. The moon came out from behind a bank of low clouds, illuminating the landscape just enough to reveal the outline of someone sitting on the rock ledge below the burial ground. Raising one hand to his mouth, Robert mimicked the hooting of an owl. When the call was returned, he nodded. He watched Gen climb the hill toward the ledge. Only when he saw Daniel reach out to her did he turn away and trot down the hill toward his cabin.

They sat in silence for a long time just listening to the gurgling spring and feeling the night breeze blowing across their skin. Presently Gen got up and, walking around behind him, began to rub Daniel’s shoulders. After a few moments, she reached around to unbutton his shirt and slid her hands beneath the soft flannel, continuing to massage his shoulders and the back of his neck until she could feel the tension begin to flow out of him.

“I didn’t know it would be so hard,” she finally said. And then, as if she had read his thoughts, she corrected them. “I don’t mean this trouble with Mr. Marsh. I mean—” she draped her arms around his shoulders and rested her chin atop his head. “I didn’t think it would be so hard to understand you.”

For a moment he was still and then he reached up to catch her hands in his own and pull her down beside him. He laughed quietly and put his arm around her.

“Why is that funny?”

“We are sent running for our lives into the nearest ravine. Aaron arrives at the worst possible moment. Just down the hill our friend Robert is standing guard with a rifle. And instead of hiding in the house trembling with fear, my little wife worries because it is hard to understand her husband.” He paused. “Does that not seem—unusual—to you?”

Gen sighed, resting her elbows on her knees, her chin atop her hands. “Of course I care about all those other things. And things you don’t even mention. I was worried for Nancy and the baby today. But Nancy is safe in her bed tonight.” Her voice wavered. “What might have happened to you, and what has happened—inside you—those are the things I worry most about.”

He grunted softly. “Today only proved what I already knew to be true, Blue Eyes. I knew it in my heart, but I wanted to be like the warriors of old—the ones who decided where they would live and fought for the right to make it happen.” He leaned back against the cottonwood tree. “I wanted this to be home. Home where the railroad brings the children. Home where you can have quiltings with the other women. Home where our children and our children’s children grow strong and live good lives.”

“That can still happen,” Gen whispered gently. “Aaron wants to have a meeting with those men who made the trouble today.”

“Aaron is a good boy, but I don’t think anything he can say will make a difference to those men. Certainly not to Abner Marsh.”

“Are you upset with him?” Gen asked.

“Who?”

“Aaron.”

“Why would I be upset with Aaron?”

“He said he shouldn’t have been the one to come find us and bring us back home. He thinks he should have let Jeb do that.” She studied Daniel’s profile in the moonlight. “I was so happy to see Aaron, I didn’t think about it. About how it made you feel.” She paused before saying, “It
does
matter to you. I should have understood that. I’m sorry.”

Daniel shrugged. “Everything has come to be just as I thought it would. Aaron has come and found, not the warrior he remembers saving his life, but a weak man who cannot even protect his own wife.”

“Stop that.” Gen said quickly. She put her hand on his knee. “That’s not who you are at all. I know it. So do the rest of us—Aaron included.”

Daniel squeezed her hand. “It’s not just about what happened today, Blue Eyes. It’s everything about our lives now. It hurts me to see how far down you have come to be my wife. When you were Mrs. Dane, you lived on an estate in New York. Now we beg for the government to give us a little piece of land . . .” He traced the frayed edge of her shirt cuff. “Genevieve
Dane
wore fine clothing. Now you mend the rags you call dresses over and over again because I have no money—even for a few yards of calico.” He paused. ‘And now Aaron sees all of these things . . . and more. He sees Daniel Two Stars, the man who runs and hides instead of fighting for what should be his.” He anticipated her response and gently pressed his fingers against her lips. “I know, Blue Eyes. It doesn’t matter to you.” He sighed wearily and muttered, “But it matters to
me
.”

“We have each other,” she said. “We have the friendship of some. And at least respect from the others. God has been good to us, Daniel. I am content.”

“And will you still be content when Abner Marsh and his friends throw rocks at you and call you a sow or spit on you the way they did on Nancy the last time she was in town?”

“I didn’t come back to Minnesota expecting life would be easy.”

“Robert and Nancy want to go to the reservation in Nebraska. I am thinking you and Aaron can stay with the Grants while I ride up to Fort Ridgely to see if Captain Willets still needs scouts. Or maybe Aaron will want to go with me. If Captain Willets takes me on as a scout, you can go back to New York with Aaron for a while. You’ll be safe there.”

“You—you want me to—go away?” Gen stammered. “But if you think we should go—why can’t we go to Nebraska with Robert and Nancy?”

“Nebraska means a reservation and another farm. I hate farming, Blue Eyes. And I’ll never be very good at it.”

“It would be different if it was
yours
,” she said.

Releasing her hand, Daniel leaned forward. His words were laced with emotion as he said, “I don’t want to live waiting for the government to give me something. That’s what they do on the reservation. Wait for seed, wait for plows, wait for horses, wait for annuities.” He shook his head. “Captain Willets depended on me. He respected me; so did the other soldiers. Even the ones who hated Indians in general learned that I could be trusted.” He paused. “That was a good feeling.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gen said abruptly.

He shook his head. “No. I won’t have you living at a fort. You don’t know how soldiers treat Dakota women. Anything could happen.”

“Scouting can’t be the only answer,” Gen pleaded. “It’s too dangerous. There has to be something else.”

He got up wearily. “Don’t be a child, Genevieve. This is not one of those fairy tales you used to tell the children where the prince and his princess live happily-ever-after.”

“Don’t call me a child!” Gen ignored her husband’s extended hand and leaped up.

“Are you going to stomp your foot now?”

The bitter sarcasm in her husband’s voice fed Gen’s anger and frustration. An inner warning flashed, but she was too upset to heed it. Instead, she gave herself to the drama of the moment and unleashed the tide of emotions broiling just beneath the surface. She backed away from him. “Fine. Send me away. All this time I thought I had brought you happiness. Now I see I’m just the thing that keeps you from doing what really makes you happy. I didn’t know you hated farming. I didn’t know you wanted to go back to scouting, to wandering around the territory on horseback. I didn’t realize—” Her voice trembled with desperation. “I didn’t realize I was the reason for so much unhappiness.”

Daniel had been prepared for anger, for the now-familiar stomping of a foot. Confronted by brokenness and the quiet desperation in his wife’s voice, he wished his mocking challenge back, but it was too late. In the moonlight he could see tears gathering in the great blue eyes he adored. ‘When they spilled down her cheeks, he reached for her. “I didn’t mean it that way. Don’t cry, little wife. Please—don’t—cry.” He meant to gather her into his arms, but she pushed him away.

“Leave me alone,” she said. Resignation and weariness sounded in her next words. “We’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Aaron tonight. We can leave whenever you say.” Her voice wavered again. “Then you can do something that makes you happy.”

Covering her face with her hands, she turned and ran down the path away from him. She could hear Daniel calling her name, but she kept running, down the hill, past the cabin, into the woods beyond. Her chest began to burn and she was gasping for breath when she tripped in a hole and fell. Daniel caught up with her, ignoring her struggle to push him away. Helpless, she became even more furious and renewed her efforts to break free, kicking and scratching at him until, exhausted, she fell back against him while he whispered her name in Dakota and covered her face with kisses.

“We’ll find a way, Blue Eyes,” he said, choking back his own tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll find a way.” He took her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his to silence her anger, murmuring promises until there was no more need for words.

Later that night, after Gen gave Aaron his quilt, after Aaron and Daniel had discussed their plans for the summer, after Aaron insisted he would sleep in the barn, after Daniel and Gen made love, Gen laced her fingers through her husband’s and said quietly, “There’s something about New York you don’t understand. You have this mental image of how wonderful it must have been, but the truth is—” She paused, then said slowly, “The truth is I was always
that Indian
. No one ever thought about the part of me that spoke French or could recite Shakespeare. Everyone was nice because Mother Leighton and the children loved me. But I never really belonged. When I thought you were dead and Simon wanted me as his wife, I told God I would do whatever He asked. And I was happy enough. But New York was never
home
.” She raised her head to look into his eyes. “
This
is home.” She patted his chest. “Wherever you lodge, wherever you go. We just have to trust God to take care of us. Please, best beloved. Don’t send me away.”

He covered her hand with his and squeezed it. “All right, Blue Eyes. I will learn to trust God to care for you at the fort while I am scouting . . . and you will learn to trust Him to care for me when I am gone.”