A Journey of the Heart Collection (44 page)

T
he little fort in the wilderness bustled with activity outside the kitchen window. The distant sound of the post band practicing mingled with the sound of soldiers practicing maneuvers on the parade ground.

Emmie Croftner carefully slid a pie into the oven to bake. “I need to change. Isaac will be here any minute.” She felt like hugging herself. “I still can't believe I'm going to be married.” She handed Sarah's little brother, Joel, a cinnamon-crusted bit of raw pie dough.

At ten, he was a nearly bottomless pit. He grinned and wolfed it down. “Can I come eat at your place sometimes?”

Sarah laughed and cuffed his head. “Only if you want to insult your only sister.”

“Ow.” He grinned and rubbed his reddish-gold hair, very much like Sarah's. “I like your cooking fine, but Emmie makes the best pie.”

Sarah rolled her green eyes. “Okay, you're forgiven this time, but only because you're right.”

A rap sounded at the door, and Emmie put her hands on her hot cheeks. “Oh dear, I'm not ready.” She hurried through the kitchen to the parlor and threw open the front door to stare up into Isaac Liddle's dear face. A bit of snow covered the shoulders of his wool coat and dotted his auburn mustache with white.

“You're early.” She touched a dark-brown lock that had fallen from atop her head. She rubbed floury hands on her apron. “Come in out of the cold.”

The scent of wet snow followed him inside. “Let me help you off with your coat.” She took his greatcoat over closer to the fire. “Sit down. Supper won't be for a little while.”

He caught at her hand when she came back and pulled her down beside him on the sofa. “You haven't
changed your mind, have you?” Melting snow dripped off his hair onto the shirt covering his broad shoulders.

“Never.” Isaac wasn't the rogue Monroe, her so-called “husband,” had been. He was true and good.

His grin beamed. “I'm one lucky fellow.” His hand went to his pocket, and he drew out a folded paper. “I wanted to show you something. It's going to be our home.”

Her pulse kicked at the thought of a real home, one with her and Isaac. Rand and Sarah had made her feel welcome, but having her own place would be so very different.

She unfolded the stiff paper and looked down at the pencil drawing. “You drew this?”

He shook his head and traced the outline of the roof with his finger. “A friend did it for me.”

She studied the sweet little house with its steep roof and windows. “It looks lovely.”

“He's made it so we can easily add on as we have more children. See, here and here we can expand in both directions.”

She touched her belly where the babe had yet to quicken. A houseful of children would suit her just fine. And she would love and care for them with all her heart. “You'll be a good father, unlike my own.”

His blue eyes darkened. “I'll give you a real home, Emmie. I promise.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I'm counting on that. Um, there's something I want to tell you.” She opened her mouth to tell him the secret that weighed so heavily on her heart, but Sarah came to the doorway.

“The pie is ready.”

Emmie rose quickly. It could wait for another time.

Isaac couldn't stop smiling as he tromped through the heavy snow to the corral to lead a woodcutting detail. The light in Emmie's eyes as she'd looked at the home he planned to build her kept him warm.

Although the sky was clear, the trek was slow going, with huge drifts of snow left by the blizzard. Several lines of enlisted men tramped the snow down for the horses. Without their assistance, the animals would have been walking through chest-high snow in some places.

Isaac sat atop his horse and watched the surrounding hills for signs of trouble. The sun shone down on the plains and glimmered on the distant snow-topped
hills. It was so different from Texas. The mountains and cool air spoke to him.

The men had only felled one tree and begun to cut it up when the whoops of a war band pierced the air as they charged over the hill to his right.

“Take cover!” He slid off his horse and flung himself down behind a rock outcropping. The soldiers were outnumbered by at least three to one. Even with the repeating rifles some of them had, they would soon be overwhelmed. He knew the lookout on Pilot Knob could see the battle, but Colonel Carrington would need at least fifteen minutes to muster the men and come to the rescue.

Emmie hummed as she washed the last of the breakfast dishes and cleaned up the pie-making mess. The wind howled around the eaves of the house, and snow clung to the outsides of the window, even sifting through the cracks to the inside sill. But the inclement weather didn't stop the singing in her heart.

Mrs. Isaac Liddle. Her new life would be here in a month.

Sarah hung the skillet on a hook over the stove and smiled. “You're looking very pleased with yourself. I'm so happy for you.”

“I still can't believe it.” Emmie's smile faltered. “But I'm worried about Jessica. What if she tells Isaac?”

“Tell him first.”

“I started to tell him when he was here but was interrupted. I'll tell him when he gets back.” Emmie lifted her head as she heard the volley of shots in the distance. She put a hand to her pounding heart. Isaac was out with the wood detail.

With Sarah on her heels, Emmie rushed through the kitchen to the parlor door and threw it open. Men ran from the parade ground to the saddled horses. Rand and Jake Campbell rode past in the first company of cavalry led by Lieutenant Fetterman.

They had grown accustomed to the wagon bringing in dead and wounded men daily. She couldn't bear the thought that Isaac's body may be brought in bristling with arrows. Now that she had finally admitted how she felt, she couldn't help fearing that he would be taken from her.

She would feel better if they had something to do besides worrying. “Let's go see if we can do anything for Amelia.”

Sarah nodded. “I'm still worried about her. It was such a hard labor. She shouldn't be home alone.”

But their fears were unfounded. Amelia was sitting up in bed with her black hair brushed, a clean nightgown on, and the baby nestled in her arms. She looked up from her inspection of baby Gabrielle as they tiptoed into the room.

“What is all the excitement about?” Amelia asked with a worried frown. “I heard the men shouting and the trumpet calling assembly.”

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Sarah stroked a soothing hand on her friend's forehead. “Just a little skirmish with the Sioux.” She frowned. “You seem a little warm. How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine.” Amelia looked down at the sleeping infant. “I can't believe she's really here. Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? I just knew I would have a baby girl.”

Emmie leaned down beside her and touched the little one's face. “She's wonderful. You're so blessed. It'll seem like such a long time before my baby comes now that you have her. Sarah and I will probably wear out our welcome in the first week.”

“Don't count on it.” Amelia smiled. “I can never see too much of you.” She sat up a little straighter and
patted the side of the bed. “Sit down both of you and tell me all the fort news. Have you heard from home lately? What has Jessica been up to?”

Emmie sat on one side of the bed, and Sarah pulled the cracked straight-backed chair closer to the bed and sat down.

Emmie smiled. “Well, I do have some exciting news.”

“Don't tell me. Let me guess.” Amelia looked into Emmie's eyes. “You're engaged to Isaac.”

Emmie gaped at her and Amelia burst out laughing. “I'm not a mind reader. Jacob told me last night.” She leaned forward and hugged Emmie. “I'm so happy for both of you. Isaac is a wonderful man.”

“God is very good to me,” Emmie said softly. “I just hope I don't disappoint Isaac.” She stood and walked to the window. “How well do we really know someone else? I'm not very brave, you know. I'm just afraid that when Isaac gets to know me better, he'll wish he had married someone else. And how will he react when he knows I was never really married to Monroe?”

Sarah stepped up behind her and turned Emmie around to face her. “You're not to think like that
anymore. Isaac is no fool. He knows you well enough now to know you aren't a loose woman.”

Emmie smiled, then nodded. “I'll try to keep that in mind.”

“When is the wedding?” Amelia asked.

“January eleventh. It's Rand's birthday. He'll give me away.”

Amelia's face brightened. “I'll be back to normal by then. Too bad Gabrielle won't be bigger. She could be in the bridal party.”

Emmie went back to the bed and touched the baby's face with one finger. The infant's skin was petal soft. “She'll be there and that's good enough for me. You certainly had us frightened.”

Amelia sighed and adjusted her blankets. “I had some kind of silly premonition that I was going to die. I'm just so thankful it's over and we're both all right.”

Sarah took her friend's hand. “We wouldn't let anything happen to you. You're too special to us.”

Amelia squeezed Sarah's hand. “Sometimes God decrees otherwise,” she said softly.

Sarah leaned over and kissed the baby. “We'd better be getting back. We'll return and bring you some nice soup for lunch. Need anything else before we go?”

Amelia shook her head. “I think I'll take a little nap while Gabrielle is sleeping.” She snuggled down into the blankets.

“I'll put her in the cradle so you can rest better.” Emmie gently took the baby and got her settled beside the bed.

Jacob had spent many evenings carving a woodland scene on the cradle. Bunnies frolicked among flowers in a meadow, beautifully done. Emmie tucked the blankets around Gabrielle, then followed Sarah out of the room.

Emmie checked the fire and made sure it had enough wood before she and Sarah hurried across the parade ground toward the sutler's store. The wood detail had been gone nearly an hour. Any news of their fate would be known at the store.

It teemed with soldiers and other wives. Sarah saw Frances Grummond standing by the counter. Frances, a petite brunette with a sweet Southern accent, waved and immediately made her way toward them.

She clutched at Emmie's arm and burst into tears. “I'm so frightened. Lieutenant Smith says Fetterman took a company of infantry and one of cavalry to the relief of the wood detail, while Colonel Carrington and George went with a small detachment to cut off the
Indians' retreat. But the scouts say our men were heavily outnumbered. At least one officer has been killed and several more men wounded. No one knows who yet.”

The lump in Emmie's throat threatened to choke her. She couldn't lose Isaac, not when she'd just found him. Rand and Jacob were in danger too, and every woman in the room felt the same fear.

Sarah invited Frances back to their quarters to await any further news. The day passed in fitful periods of conversation. A pall of fear hung over all three women as they tried to keep up their spirits. They sang hymns, took meals to Amelia, worked with Sarah's little brother, Joel, on his studies, and above all prayed. Finally, at about nine o'clock in the evening, the bugle sounded the return of the troops. The women hastily threw on cloaks and hats and hurried across the parade ground to greet the returning soldiers.

Emmie watched fearfully as the men filed through. Their faces were tense and red from the cold wind. Sarah cried out in relief as she spotted Rand, then Jacob. Emmie strained her eyes in the dark, trying to see a familiar set of shoulders. Where was Isaac? She scanned the crowd again. There he was. Tears of thanksgiving welled up as he turned and saw her. He
smiled and waved. The men couldn't speak with them for some time, but at least they were safe.