Land of My Heart (15 page)

Dianne nodded. “I wish I could share this with my family. The flavor is just so different. It’s always nice to have a change.”

“I’ll put the milk you brought into something else and send some black-eyed peas back in the jar.”

“Oh, Faith, thank you. That would be wonderful!”

They finished their lunch and sampled the cobbler. Dianne was delighted with the simplicity of the recipe and knew beyond a doubt that she could make the dessert for her own family.

“I’ve had so much fun talking and cooking with you, Faith.” Dianne took up the jar of beans and smiled. “I’ll come again when I can.”

“You do that. Next time I’ll teach you how to make a rag rug.”

Dianne stood amazed at the knowledge that Faith held.
I can learn so much from this woman,
she thought.
So much that will make our lives easier, especially when we reach Uncle Bram’s house
. “Thank you again, Faith. I know my family will love these black-eyed peas.”

But her family never had the chance to sample them. As Dianne put the finishing touches on supper and made certain that the venison stew had cooked to perfection, her mother appeared to oversee matters.

“What is this?” she asked, gazing into the small iron kettle Dianne had put the beans in to warm.

“Those are black-eyed peas. The flavor is so good. I just know you’ll love it.”

“That’s darkie food. You got these from that woman, didn’t you?”

Dianne had been squatting beside the fire but stood rather quickly. “I got them from Faith, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Her mother, mindless of the fire, kicked the pot over and spilled the contents onto the ground. “My family won’t be fed such things. We’re too good for the likes of that slop.”

Dianne struggled with her emotions. “But it tasted wonderful. I thought you’d enjoy the change.”

Her mother crossed to where Dianne stood. “You’ve been spending time with that slave woman, haven’t you? Even after I told you not to. Even after I reminded you that they’re responsible for killing your pa.”

“But Pa’s death was an accident,” Dianne protested. “Besides, Faith and Malachi aren’t slaves. They’re free.”

Her mother slapped her hard across the face, then stared at Dianne for a moment as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. It was the first time her gentle-spirited mother had ever done such a thing. Getting over her initial shock, her mother stepped back.

“Get supper dished up. I’ll call the boys.” She turned to go, then stopped and faced Dianne again. This time her voice was gentle, almost loving. “Dianne, there are reasons why society has separated the races. It’s not wise to dabble in things you know nothing about. I insist you have nothing more to do with that woman.”

She didn’t wait for a reply and for this Dianne was grateful. She could never have promised her mother that she wouldn’t see Faith—wouldn’t speak to her and learn from her. Her mother might not realize it, but she was benefiting as much as the rest of the family from Faith’s lessons.

Supper was a somber affair. The venison stew brought praise from her brothers, but her mother said nothing throughout the entire meal. Dianne felt her sense of isolation grow. Her mother had never been one to share the thoughts of her heart, but at least she’d been willing to converse. Now it seemed she was struggling with something—something more than her earlier anger with Dianne. But what could it be?

As supper concluded, Dianne started to clear away the dishes, but her mother waved her off.

“Sit back down, Dianne. I want to talk to all of you.”

Dianne sat down between Morgan and Ardith and waited. Perhaps her mother intended to talk about the earlier incident regarding Faith and the black-eyed peas. Dianne lowered her gaze to the fire and sincerely prayed that would not be the case. Her mother had a history, however, of using one child to make an object lesson with another.
Please just leave Faith out of this, Mama. She’s a good woman and she’s not to blame
.

“I have news to share. I know this has been a hard trip on all of us. I know you’ve had to work hard, and I appreciate it. I know you don’t always agree with my opinions, but with your father now gone, I ask that you respect my wishes. Just as Mr. Keefer gave us the list of rules to help us keep safe, my opinions are often given for the same reason. You may not like them, but I expect you to follow them.” Dianne looked up as her mother looked directly into her eyes.

“Now it’s more important than ever. As we push west there will be the threat of Indian attacks. We’ve been blessed not to have encountered such things thus far, but you can never tell who might be the enemy. There’s talk that Southern sympathizers have joined forces with Indians to attack Northerners. Personally, I do not believe this, but there are plenty of problems for us even without such alliances. Races do not mix. Indians do not live in peace with whites and neither do freed slaves. If it appears such things are possible, you must ask yourself what is motivating their actions.” She paused and set aside her bowl, and Dianne wondered if this was why her mother held such bitterness toward Faith and Malachi. Maybe she believed the former slaves would rise up to kill them as well. But what would have prompted such fears? Had her mother been told things like this as a child?

“But the real reason I wanted to talk with you is to share something entirely different. I’ve known about this since we left New Madrid, but I didn’t want to tell you until we were well on our way west,” she began. “It will help explain why I’ve been so sick.”

Ardith shifted and leaned over to rest her head against Dianne’s shoulder. No doubt she was tired. Dianne knew their mother had kept the girls busy all day. Even Betsy was yawning.

“I’m going to have a baby,” their mother suddenly confessed. At least it seemed sudden to Dianne. She jerked her head up, as did Ardith. “The baby will come in December, so we’ll be long settled with Uncle Bram.”

“A baby will be so much fun!” Betsy declared, clapping her hands.

“No it won’t,” Ardith grumbled. “Babies are a lot of work and they just get into your stuff and make messes.”

Betsy frowned as if she’d been personally insulted, and in truth she had, for Ardith had no experience with babies other than with Betsy. Dianne reached out to soothe her sister.

“I didn’t think you were a bother at all. I loved playing with you. You’ll probably love playing with this new baby.”

“No I won’t.” Ardith jerked away from Dianne and crossed her arms against her chest. With a frown on her face, she pouted as their mother continued.

“I didn’t tell you right away because I was worried that Mr. Keefer would refuse to allow us to travel. It won’t be much longer, however, that I’ll be able to hide this condition from anyone, so I figured I’d better let you know.”

“I don’t want another baby around,” Ardith said, getting to her feet. “I want you to send it away.”

“Ardith Chadwick!” their mother exclaimed. “What a selfish child you are! How dare you suggest such a thing.”

Ardith’s lower lip quivered and Dianne saw her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t want another baby around. You won’t love us anymore—you’ll only love the baby.” She ran off across the camp and disappeared.

“I’ll go after her,” Dianne said, getting to her feet. She felt she should say something more to her mother. “Ma, I’m happy about the baby. It’s like a special gift from God—since Pa can’t be with us anymore.”

Her mother nodded and for the first time since the tragedy in New Madrid, Dianne felt as though she’d reached her mother’s heart with her words.

With that small moment warming Dianne inside, she hurried off to find Ardith. The poor girl was probably remembering how much less attention she had received when Betsy came along. To Ardith, it must have seemed that Betsy usurped her position as baby of the family. Another child would push her even farther from that place.

“Ardith! Ardith! Where are you?” she called, moving around the circled gathering of the wagons. But there was no reply. A couple of people mentioned having seen Ardith, but no one noticed which direction the child had gone. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, leaving streaks of red and lavender in the sky. Dianne knew the light would soon be gone altogether.

“Ardith!”

Dianne searched for over twenty minutes and still nothing. Then a commotion drew her attention. Maybe someone had found Ardith.

Making her way down to the river, Dianne heard one woman hysterically exclaiming, “A little girl just fell off the bank! The current’s got her. I saw it myself but I couldn’t save her.”

Dianne felt sickened. She pushed her way through the crowd. “Was the girl wearing a blue dress and apron?”

The woman nodded. “As best as I could tell. She was crying, and I tried to talk to her. I thought maybe she was lost. She ran off from me and slipped on the riverbank.”

“That’s my sister!” Dianne cried out.

She took off running alongside the river, screaming Ardith’s name. There was no sign of the child, however. Heartsick, Dianne pressed on. She had to find her. Ardith had to be safe.

“Ardith!”

Dianne turned to avoid a cluster of brush and found herself in front of a mounted rider. “What’s going on?” Cole Selby demanded.

“My little sister Ardith has fallen into the river. Some woman saw her. The current swept her downstream, but I don’t see her anywhere.”

“Go back to your camp. I’ll look for her, but—” he paused and Dianne met his expression in the dimming light—“don’t get your hopes up. That river is fierce right now. A child would never be able to swim for the bank.”

Dianne watched him urge his horse forward as an overwhelming emptiness washed over her. “Don’t get my hopes up?” How could she not? How could she simply dismiss the matter?

Dianne slowly made her way back to the wagon. She could hardly stand the thought that she would be the bearer of this bad news. She neared their camp and prayed silently for strength. She wasn’t normally given to talking much to God, but it seemed a good thing. “Please help us find Ardith,” she murmured, “and please let her be alive and safe.”

“Ma!” Dianne’s voice sounded foreign in her ears. “Ma, you must come. Ardith has fallen into the river. Mr. Selby has gone after her.”

Every member of her family jumped up from around the fire. Even Betsy rushed forward with questions.

“Come on. We can ask the woman who saw her fall in,” Dianne suggested, not having any desire to relay the details. She kept hearing Cole’s words over and over in her head.

“We’ll ride out and see if we can help Mr. Selby,” Morgan declared. He and Zane ran for the horses while Betsy, Dianne, and their mother rushed to the riverbank, where Susannah questioned everyone who had any knowledge of the incident. “Oh, this is all my fault,” she whispered. “I told her she was selfish. I know it was probably nothing more than shock that made her say the things she did.”

Dianne watched as her mother twisted her hands together. The agony in her expression was more than Dianne could bear, and she quickly looked away as if to gaze into the darkness of the landscape.

Fifty or more people gathered around them. Griselda Showalter held Susannah close and talked to her constantly. For once, Dianne thought, the woman’s incessant chatter was probably a blessing.

“I just heard about your sister,” Levi said as he came to stand beside Dianne and Betsy. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just wait with us,” Dianne said, not knowing what else to say.

“I will,” he said softly. “And I’ll pray.”

Dianne met his compassionate gaze and nodded. “Thank you.”

After an hour, Cole Selby and the twins rode back into camp. Their arms were empty, however. “We didn’t see any sign of her,” Cole said despondently.

Their mother tore away from Griselda and went to where Cole dismounted. “That’s it? That’s all you can do? My child is out there somewhere.”

Cole frowned. “She’s most likely been swept far beyond our reach. I’m sorry.”

“But we can’t just leave her. She’ll be cold. She’ll be afraid. Indians might find her.”

Dianne heard the murmurs around her. “She’s a goner,” one man said.

“She’s dead for sure.”

Dianne watched her mother start to crumple to the ground. Morgan reached out to take hold of her and steadied her on her feet. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go back to the wagon.”

Dianne stared after her family in disbelief. Surely that wasn’t all they could do. Surely Ardith wasn’t really dead. She looked to Mr. Selby, who by now had dismounted. “Can’t we do anything else?”

“Nothing to be done,” he replied. “I went down the river as far as I could. She couldn’t have made it.” As if realizing how harsh he sounded, his tone softened as he added, “I’m sorry.”

Levi put his arm around Dianne. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your camp.”

Dianne nodded but continued to look to Cole, as if he could give her something more to go on. He said nothing, turning away instead. The finality of it cut deep into Dianne’s heart.

CHAPTER 10

T
HE WAGON TRAIN CROSSED THE RIVER ON THE TWENTY-SECOND
of June. Dianne could barely comprehend that they were leaving the area.

Leaving Ardith.

Every day she’d taken Dolly and ridden along the swollen, swirling Platte, checking the banks with a critical eye, seeking with desperation anything that might prove Ardith had passed this way. Always she returned home defeated and discouraged.

Reverend Hammond, with Charity and Levi, had come to sit with them most every evening—sharing comfort and talking of God’s ability to work this tragedy for good. But Dianne could see no good in the death of a child. The more Charity Hammond tried to share Scripture with Dianne, the more questions came to mind. Why would God take the life of her sister? Was He punishing them? Was He angry at their decision to move west? Or did He simply not care? With two deaths in her family, Dianne felt the latter was probably the answer.

God simply had better things to do. There was, after all, a war going on. No doubt God had His hands full with such matters. What was the life of one child compared to the lives of hundreds of thousands of men? Still, the very thought of this hurt Dianne in a way she couldn’t begin to explain. Why were the Chadwicks not as important to God as other families?