Land of My Heart (16 page)

In the back of her mind, Dianne remembered that other deaths had occurred along the way. A family here and there had lost loved ones as well. Travel was especially hard on the old and the young. But those were strangers. Dianne’s need to understand was a much more personal matter.

As the days ticked by, Dianne carefully erected a wall around her heart. The pain was so great, she hoped she might contain it by isolation. Her brothers seemed to do the same, saying very little to anyone, while Betsy clung to their mother for understanding and comfort. But their mother had no comfort to offer and often Dianne found Betsy crying alone. It was the one chink in her armor that Dianne hadn’t counted on. She could scarcely ignore her sister’s tears.

So with great confusion, Dianne fought to work against the sadness that threatened to eat her alive. She tried to give of herself to Betsy while sealing off her feelings toward others. And that went for God as well. A cold indifference settled over her as she struggled to deal with her emotions. If it was God’s plan to ignore her needs, then maybe she should just ignore God in return.

As they pushed west toward Fort Laramie, her spirits sank even further as Susannah took to her bed and refused to eat or speak. Even Betsy stopped making attempts to see their mother. Instead she stuck by Dianne’s side. Her tears dried up, as did her questions and comments regarding Ardith. Dianne hated seeing Betsy become so sullen, but she barely had the strength to keep her own heart from plunging into darkness. How could she be responsible for Betsy’s as well?

On the last day of the month, Dianne got her first close-up view of Indians. It was a peaceful clan, Mr. Selby had told them, although he didn’t mention the tribe by name. Mostly they were nomadic, moving across the plains in search of food. Some even came to beg bread from the settlers. Dianne felt horribly sorry for them in spite of the way she’d attempted to put her emotions aside. Since her mother was nowhere around to suggest otherwise, she gave a jar of milk and a few pieces of fried bread to an Indian mother whose four small children looked nearly starved to death.

The woman smiled and offered Dianne a small leather pouch in trade. Dianne started to refuse it.

“Don’t insult her,” Cole Selby said from behind. “Take the trade. Otherwise her pride will be wounded.”

Dianne didn’t even bother to look around. She smiled back at the woman and took the pouch. She said nothing until after the woman and her children had gone. Fingering the fine craftsmanship of the pouch, she asked, “Why are they so hungry? We’ve seen antelope and other game. There have been berries along the way.” She turned and met Cole’s stern expression and asked again, “Why?”

He shrugged. “A lot of them have lost their men. That mother is probably alone, with no man to hunt for her. If you’ve noticed, a good many of the Indians we’ve encountered have been women and children and old folks. They don’t have the ability to run down an antelope.”

“Where are their men? What happened to them?”

“Some have died from sickness brought west by the whites. Others have died in the Indian wars. There’s been fierce fighting out here over the last couple of years. There will continue to be more fighting as time goes on.”

“When will it stop?” Dianne felt a deep sadness as she considered that those children were in the same position as she was: they had no father, and they would lose siblings just as she had.

“It won’t stop until the Indians have been driven off the land,” Cole said matter-of-factly.

“Do you agree with that idea?”

Cole shook his head. “No. But then, I don’t recall anyone asking me what I thought, except you.” He turned and walked away without another word and Dianne was left to contemplate yet another fact of life that she’d been blissfully unaware of—until now.

That night, a horrible windstorm blew up. There was no warning, no time to secure the campsite more than they’d already done prior to going to bed. As the wind picked up and the rain poured, Dianne gathered Betsy into her arms and abandoned their bed under the wagon for the safety inside. They joined their mother, who said nothing to either one of them. Dianne wondered if Morgan and Zane had gotten to safety. They were the ones who suggested the girls take cover. Meanwhile, they were going to help with the livestock.

As the wagon rocked back and forth, threatening to tip over at any moment, Betsy cried softly in Dianne’s arms while their mother buried her face against her pillow and turned away from her daughters. Dianne immediately thought of Ardith. She couldn’t help but wonder if her little sister was still alive—wandering around the countryside in the midst of the storm.

As if reading her mind, Betsy asked, “Is it storming on Ardith too?”

Dianne brushed back her sister’s wild hair. “Oh, I don’t think so. We’ve traveled quite a ways since Julesburg.”

“Do you think she’s with God?” Betsy then questioned, completely catching Dianne off guard. One minute the child spoke as if Ardith were alive, while the next she seemed to accept that Ardith was gone.

“I’m sure she’s in God’s care, no matter where she is.”

“Will she understand why we left her behind? I mean, if she’s still back at the river?”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. And besides, lots of folks know about Ardith. We told everyone we could in Julesburg. If they find her, they know where we’re headed. Mama left all the information with the sheriff. If they find her, they’ll bring her to Uncle Bram’s in Virginia City.”

Betsy nodded and snuggled down against Dianne. “I hope they find her.”

Dianne swallowed the lump in her throat. “I hope so too.”

At some point, Dianne and Betsy fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms. In the morning, Dianne awoke to find everything strangely calm. It was almost as if the storm had never happened. Some of the wagons had been damaged and several animals were missing—probably spooked off by the intensity of the wind and rain. Otherwise, everyone seemed fine.

Later that morning, they arrived at Fort Laramie. The fort sat amidst rolling hills and a lumbering river. There were very few trees, mostly small ones along the water. Dianne supposed that those who’d come before them had chopped down what wood could be had for fires.

They camped near the fort on the opposite side of the river. Here they would enjoy the protection of the soldiers and also learn whatever news was to be had at the sutler’s store. Post riders, who were much quicker than wagon trains, had brought in mail from back East. Many families were delighted to hear news from their loved ones. Morgan went to check on behalf of the Chadwick family but found nothing.

Dianne was saddened by this, hoping against hope that Trenton might have taken time to write. She worried about him. She couldn’t help herself.

Word swept through the camp on July 2 that three children in the train had come down with measles. Daniel Keefer made the decision to stay through for at least a couple of days and see how many others might show signs of the disease. It would also allow the travelers to celebrate Independence Day at the fort—where quite a party was planned.

Dianne went through the paces of her days, dreading the news of additional sick. She tried to occupy her time by seeing to the needs of the family. She took care of the laundry, washing it down at the river, then spreading it on a clothesline between two of their wagons. She cooked and cleaned up around their camp and tried to tend to any requests her mother made. Betsy was her constant shadow. She especially loved visiting the horses, and Dianne actually thought the animals helped to heal them both. Somehow stroking the velvet muzzle of Dolly and brushing the burrs from her tail gave Dianne a peace she found difficult to grasp anywhere else. Betsy, whose love of animals had always been evident, enjoyed such times as well.

In the evening, Dianne would listen to the sounds of the soldiers settling in for the night. The guards walking their posts were a comfort to her, even if they were across the river. Sometimes she watched them and wondered who they were and where they’d come from. Were they glad to be here in the West rather than back East where the war was raging? Did they have families who missed them? Did they worry about the Indians and the rumors of wars that would pit them against each other?

Then at night, Dianne would curl up in her covers under the wagon and marvel to think they were a world away from New Madrid and all that she had known. She fell asleep at night pondering the world that yet awaited them—praying it would be more merciful than the trail west had been.

By the fourth, Keefer’s concerns were well founded. At least fifty families had someone ill with measles, and five people had died. Mr. Keefer wanted to move out on the fifth and leave the sick behind.

“There’s another wagon train not but two weeks behind us. Anyone with sick can wait here and pick up with the other train when they come through,” he told the travelers at a mandatory meeting. Standing on the seat of one of the wagons, he raised his arms as the crowd’s murmurings grew to a fevered pitch.

“Everyone quiet down. I intend to move this train west come morning. I want those of you who have sick family members to speak with my assistant, Cole Selby. Let him know your family’s name and he’ll record it. Then he’ll leave a list with the fort commander. It’s the safest thing to do for everyone concerned. You don’t want to get out in the middle of nowhere and take sick yourselves.”

Dianne worried about Betsy. Whereas Dianne and the boys had already had the measles, Betsy had not. So far, she’d shown no sign of the disease, but Dianne knew these things took time.

“What if we don’t choose to stay behind?” a tall man with a thick black beard questioned. He stood not two feet from where Dianne watched the ruckus.

“I’m the commander of this train. When you signed on, you agreed to do things my way. If you choose to do otherwise, you can leave the train, but so long as you’re here, you’ll do it my way.”

The man muttered a curse but said nothing more. There were a few other questions, but overall, people seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation. They didn’t like being left behind, but they comprehended there being no other choice.

Mr. Keefer ended his speech by urging those who could to join in with the Fourth of July celebrations. Some of the folks in the train had planned a celebration days in advance, not knowing they would be able to share in the fort’s activities. Everyone who played an instrument was encouraged to come and join in the spontaneous band, while the women were asked to bake their sweetest treat.

Dianne had no desire to attend the party but found herself encouraged to do so at every turn.

“It would do you good to be with other people,” Charity Hammond told her. “I can stay with your mama if you’d like, and if your brothers aren’t going, I’m sure Levi would like to escort you.”

Dianne shook her head. “No. That’s all right. Ma would resent anyone coming to stay with her. She’ll be fine. But maybe I will take Betsy over. She could use some fun, and I heard that the children are going to be playing games and having contests.”

Charity smiled and patted Dianne’s shoulder. “That’s the spirit. It will do you both good. Tell you what. I won’t sit with your mama, but I’ll give her a visit during the evening. That way she’ll not be alone and you’ll know she’s all right.”

Dianne agreed and went in search of Betsy. Her sister was excited at the prospect of the party. Morgan and Zane approved the idea as well. They had already planned to attend, as Zane wanted to talk to the soldiers about life in the fort and Morgan had his eye on dancing with a particularly lovely blond-haired girl.

Dianne watched as Betsy participated in the three-legged race. With her leg bound to the leg of another little girl, the delight on her sister’s face was evident as the race began. Hopping down the field, they giggled and struggled to coordinate their steps. Dianne laughed too.

“It’s good to hear you laughing,” Faith said as she joined Dianne.

Dianne met Faith’s joyful expression. “It’s the first time I’ve felt like laughing since …” Dianne’s voice broke. She fell silent and looked away. “Sorry.”

“Dianne, I know your heart is nearly cut in two, but you have to have hope and courage. You have to go on living in spite of what happened.”

“I know, but I just can’t figure out why such a thing happened. Did Ardith’s fall into the river take God by surprise?” She looked to Faith, hoping—almost praying—the older woman would have the answer.

“Why do you ask that? God is never taken by surprise.”

“Then He must not have cared.”

Faith reached out and took hold of Dianne. It was a bold move, for people of color were not to ever touch a white person without their expressed permission.

“Child, do you honestly think God has forgotten you?”

“I don’t know how else to see it. I mean, how hard would it have been to save one little girl from drowning?”

“Not hard at all. At least not for God. So that’s why you think God must have been sleeping or looking the other way. God didn’t save your sister from the river, so you figure He doesn’t care about you and your family. Is that it?”

Dianne knew it sounded silly, but she couldn’t help it. “I know God has much more important things to do than to worry over us. There’s the war and all that’s happening back East. It’s much more important.”

“Why would you say that?”

Dianne’s throat constricted. “It must be true; otherwise Ardith would still be here.” Tears came to her eyes. “My father would still be here.”

Faith wrapped Dianne in her arms. “Oh, Dianne, God still cares. He hasn’t forgotten you. We can’t always understand His ways, but child, His eye is on the sparrow—He knows when even one little bird falls from a tree. Do you not imagine Him knowing and caring that Ardith fell into the river—or that your father was killed?”

Dianne let her tears spill. “But it hurts so much, and I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t always hurt less when we do understand,” Faith replied. “Knowing the why of things doesn’t always make it right.”

“What are you doing to my child?” Susannah Chadwick screamed, pulling Dianne from Faith’s hold.