A Journey of the Heart Collection (41 page)

“I've been watching for you,” Jessica said. “You haven't been out much.” Her eyes swept contemptuously over Emmie's plain gray dress and bonnet.

“Sarah hasn't been well. I really can't stay. I need to get back to her as quickly as possible.” Emmie shrank away from the brittle smile on Jessica's face. She couldn't imagine what Jessica would want with her. And what did that triumphant glint in her eye mean? Emmie's nervousness increased a notch as Jessica allowed a strained pause to drag out.

“This won't take long,” she said finally with another chilly smile. “I just thought it was important that we get a few things settled between us.”

“What kinds of things?” Emmie's agitation grew as Jessica stepped in closer. Her sweet, overpowering scent made Emmie's head swim.

“I've seen the way you look at Isaac. My father wants me to marry him, and I intend to do just that. Rand chose Sarah, that chit of a girl, over me for reasons I cannot fathom. I want you to know that I refuse to be humiliated again.” She pushed her face into Emmie's. “I know all about you, Miss Croftner.
After I overheard a comment you made, I contacted a cousin who made some inquiries for me. I know that the child you're carrying is a bastard and you've never been married. If you force me to, I'll let everyone here know all about it.”

Emmie felt faint. This was her nightmare come true. She couldn't stand for anyone to know about her shame. It would reflect on her friends too. She clutched icy hands in the folds of her cloak and swallowed hard.

Jessica smiled again. “You are to stay away from Isaac. Make it clear you have no interest in him at all. If you don't, I'll let everyone know you lived with a man out of wedlock.”

“But I thought I was married! It wasn't like you're making it sound.”

“If you were too stupid to figure out what the man was after, that's your problem.” Jessica flicked a disparaging hand at Emmie. “Oh, you're not unattractive, I suppose. That helpless look probably brings out the protective nature in some men. But you're no better than your brothers, and anyone who knew them would instantly know what kind of person you are behind that little-girl-lost facade.”

Emmie struggled to catch her breath. Jessica was
only saying the things Emmie felt inside. She stiffened her shoulders. “You needn't worry about me, Miss DuBois. I have no interest in Isaac. He is merely a friend.”

Jessica's eyes narrowed as she stared at Emmie. “I certainly hope that's true. For your sake, it had better be.” She opened the door and practically pushed Emmie through it. “And don't tell anyone about our conversation. Not if you want your little secret to remain between the two of us.”

Emmie found herself staring at the brass knocker as the door slammed behind her. She gulped and forced herself to walk down the steps on shaky legs.

The walk in the cold wind stiffened Emmie's resolve, and she had quit shaking by the time she pushed open the door to the sutler's store. The smell struck her as she stepped across the threshold. The overpowering stench of unwashed bodies mixed with cinnamon, coffee, tobacco, and vinegar from the pickle keg nearly gagged her. She quickly picked up a handful of wrinkled apples and paid for them, aware of the
stares of the Indians and soldiers alike. The sutler's store was always such a trial to endure. It wasn't so bad when she was escorted by Rand or Jake, but a young woman alone attracted a lot of attention.

She escaped into the fresh air and hurried back to the Campbell quarters. Sarah looked up as she burst through the door. Emmie had intended to tell her friend about the confrontation with Jessica, but after one look at Sarah's pale, pinched face, she decided against it. Now was the perfect time to put into practice what she'd been learning the past few weeks. She would turn the whole matter over to God. She put on a bright smile as she closed the door behind her.

She pulled out an apple and showed it to Sarah. “I found some lovely apples at the sutler's store. They're a little wrinkly, but they don't seem to have any bad spots. Here, smell.” She put a small apple under Sarah's nose. “They should make delicious apple dumplings.”

Sarah took the apple slowly and sniffed. A ghost of a smile brightened her face, then she lay back against the cushions on the parlor cot. “You are a dear.” She handed the apple back to Emmie. “I don't know why I feel so poorly. The winter is just beginning and already the wind is about to drive me mad.”

Emmie sat beside her and put an arm around her slim shoulders. “God is here with you, though. I have so much peace since I realized that. Now the vastness that used to terrify me when I looked around outside just reminds me how powerful he is.”

Sarah smiled at her. “You put me to shame sometimes, Emmie. You're right, of course. At least I'm here with Rand and not stuck back East with my brother. With all the fighting going on, Rand hasn't been seriously wounded and neither has Jacob. We should count our blessings.”

Emmie hugged her again. “I think I'll get started on those apple dumplings. You rest a while.” She stood and went to the kitchen, all of three steps away. She hummed as she took down her apron and wrapped it around her waist. Hmm, it seemed her waist had thickened just since yesterday. She took down a tin of flour and dumped some into a bowl. “What time did Rand say to expect him?”

“He sent Joel by to tell us he'd be late. That reckless Lieutenant Fetterman has finally talked Colonel Carrington into letting him try an ambush. The colonel asked Rand to go along to keep Fetterman out of trouble. They're taking some mules as bait, but Joel
said Rand thought it was a harebrained scheme. Red Cloud is no fool, but Fetterman is hotheaded and thinks all Indians are stupid and slow.”

Emmie sighed. Always there was fighting. Every day, every hour, they listened for the crack of rifles in the winter air and the war whoops of the Sioux. There was never a respite. As she mixed the dough and sliced the apples, she and Sarah chatted about everything except the one thing they both listened for. Through the long afternoon and early evening, they waited and talked to fill the time. Only when they heard Rand's boot heels and Joel's excited chatter as they came up the front porch did they relax.

Rand came in, stomping his feet in the entry and reminding Joel to do the same. His face was pale and pinched with the cold. Sarah rushed to help him out of his snow-covered greatcoat. He shrugged it off and dropped onto the cot with a sigh. He held out his hands toward the roaring fire as Sarah sat beside him.

“I expected you before now,” she said softly.

“You should have seen it,” Joel put in excitedly. “I was watching from the blockhouse. The Sioux knew it was a trap. They just waited Fetterman out, then
slipped behind the fort and stampeded the cattle. Fetterman looked as savage as a meat ax.”

“Joel!” Sarah spoke sharply.

He looked sheepish. “Well, that's what Rooster said.”

“You're not to talk disrespectfully of your elders.”

Her brother scuffed a toe on the floor. “He sure was mad, though. He told the colonel he wanted to go out after them right then and there, but the colonel wouldn't let him. He stomped off with Lieutenant Grummond. They were both grumbling.”

Emmie broke in hurriedly. “Your supper's ready.” She didn't want to hear about any more battles. She watched as Sarah put a hand on Rand's arm, then hurried to fix him a plate of thick stew and warm slices of bread with butter. She fixed a smaller plate for Joel.

“Joel's right,” Rand said after a few bites of supper. “Fetterman is spoiling for a fight with the Sioux. He's going to wind up with his hair lifted if he isn't careful. He's rash, and I'm afraid he'll drag Lieutenant Grummond into a losing battle with him. Neither one of them have any respect for the way an Indian can fight. They haven't been out here long enough to have a little sense knocked into them.”

Emmie shuddered. She'd seen Lieutenant Fetterman around. He usually had a group of starry-eyed soldiers around listening to stories of his exploits in the War Between the States. His bragging and posturing repelled her and filled her with a strange foreboding.

SEVEN

I
saac stamped his cold feet outside the Campbell house and hit his fist on the door. His greatcoat did little to stop the icy wind from chilling him through and through.

The door opened, and he looked down into Emmie's face. Her eyes widened when she saw him. Was that a flicker of fear in her eyes? Why would she ever be fearful of him?

The snow swirled around him like a thick, wet fog
that skated onto the kitchen floor. She stepped out of the way. “Come in.”

He pushed past her and she shut the door. He looked around the kitchen and fastened his gaze on Sarah sitting at the table. “We've got a visitor. I told her to come in with me, but she insisted I come and ask permission.”

Sarah looked up at him anxiously. “Is Amelia all right?”

Isaac grinned, imagining her response once she knew. “It's got nothing to do with her. This is a visitor the Lord has blown our way. I think you'll be right happy to see her.”

Sarah gave him a fierce look, and he laughed. “I think it should be a surprise in spite of what she says.” He turned and opened the door again. “Come on in.”

A figure covered in a thick buffalo hide slowly stepped through the doorway. His chest squeezed now that he could see her in better light. Snow coated her thick black braids, and she looked pale and emaciated.

Morning Song had been one of Sarah's Sioux students at Fort Laramie until she left with her band to join Red Cloud. Most of them had thought they'd never see her again, especially after Ben Croftner mistreated her.

Morning Song stared straight at Sarah, then smiled. “My Sarah, do you not know me?”

Sarah gasped and jumped to her feet. “Morning Song!” She ran toward the young woman with her arms outstretched. “I didn't know if I'd ever see you again.” She put her arms around the young woman and hugged her.

Morning Song returned the hug, then stepped back. She shrugged off the buffalo robe and revealed a baby snuggled against her breast in an Indian carrier of some sort. The child, a boy, slept peacefully with his thumb corked in his mouth.

“Oh, Morning Song, you have a baby!” Sarah held out her hands. “May I?”

The Indian girl nodded and gently lifted her child out of the carrier and put him into Sarah's outstretched arms. Sarah cradled him and crooned to him. Isaac stared too. The baby was obviously Ben's.

Morning Song had once been so beautiful. Now her hair was dull and lifeless from hunger and deprivation, and the sparkle was gone from her large dark eyes.

Joel jumped up from the table. “Morning Song, is Red Hawk with you? Can I see him?”

Morning Song's face sobered and she shook her
head. “I come alone, little warrior.” She touched Joel's shoulder.

Isaac noticed Emmie standing off with her hands clenched together. This would affect her, too, though she didn't know it yet. He moved over to stand beside her so he could speak without being overheard. “Morning Song was one of Sarah's first students back at Fort Laramie when she taught reading and writing to the Indian youngsters.”

How did he explain such a delicate situation? He glanced at Morning Song and Sarah. They were talking so they wouldn't hear this. “Um, your brother Ben was, uh, married. Well, not really married.” He broke off in embarrassment, then plunged ahead. “Anyway, Emmie, that baby is your nephew. Ben had mistreated her, and Sarah got her away from him. She disappeared shortly after that and we haven't seen her since. She came in a little while ago with some friendly Shoshone.”

Emmie looked across the room at the sleeping child. “My nephew, Ben's child? Did he know?”

“I don't think so.”

“Does she know who I am?”