Across the Border (3 page)

Manda, Polly, and Frances slowly walked back to the house, with Simon and Will following them. Polly had more help with her jam than she expected, since everyone wanted to stay together until they knew that Alice was safe.

It would be a long afternoon.

Luke knew it was at least an hour's walk to the village at the quickest pace, but he really didn't expect to go all the way. He was sure he'd see Alice coming toward him soon. He strode through the woods, enjoying the cool dimness provided by the trees. This was taking time from his work, which had to be carried out alone until Chad, Henry, and Ethan returned from Nebraska, but it was sure restful back here.

His mind wandered to a poem that Frances had read to the family one evening. He thought it might have been called “Trees.” He did recall that it said only God could make a tree. He peered at the branches towering over his head. Would someone as powerful as that really have time to solve the small problems of people on earth, as Henry and the family believed? If so, should he try to make a bargain with God to help find Alice? Once again, as when Simon had been missing, Luke wished that he knew a little more about praying. He would have liked to believe that he was entitled to ask the Almighty for aid.

Suddenly Luke realized that he was entering the clearing that surrounded the village, and he hadn't yet seen Alice. For the first time he felt a stab of worry. He couldn't have missed her if she had been on the trail, and she surely wouldn't have left it. He hurried toward the tepee where their friend Silver Wing and her husband, Black Wolf, lived.

Silver Wing greeted him cordially but was clearly surprised. “How good to see you. Do you bring good news from my friends?”

“Everyone is well,” Luke replied. “I've come to take Alice home. Her mother is concerned about her.”

Silver Wing's smile faded, and she looked alarmed. “Alice? But she is not here.” Silver Wing clapped sharply, and when a small boy appeared, she gave him quick directions in her language. “The men will fan out through the woods,” she told Luke. “They'll find her soon. I will return to the farm with you.”

As they hurried back toward home, Silver Wing explained why Black Wolf wasn't with them. “He has gone this week to the mission school to help repair some buildings. We are grateful for the education we received there—and for the teaching about God.”

“Don't you have a god of your own?” Luke asked. “I thought Indians believed nature is their god.”

“There is only one God,” Silver Wing answered simply. “He is the Creator of nature. We do not worship the things He has made, as wonderful as they are.”

“I don't think all Indians believe that way. I've met some who say they don't want any part of the white man's God.”

“That is true. And Indians meet many white men who feel the same way.” Silver Wing glanced at Luke, but he didn't reply. She continued. “I have also seen that when they meet trouble, God is the first one they call on.”

For a while they walked in silence, and Luke thought over her words. She couldn't know that he had considered doing just that. He had reached the end of what he could do by himself.

“How long will it take your men to start searching?” he asked finally.

Silver Wing eyed him with a surprised expression. “They are all around us right now. Haven't you seen them?”

Luke admitted that he hadn't, nor had he heard any noise among the trees.

Silver Wing shook her head. “You will not hear them, but once in a while, you will catch sight of one if you look carefully.”

But as closely as he watched, Luke saw only slight movements in the woods that might have been the wind or running creatures. The closer they came to the creek, the more concerned he was that Alice had been carried off and wouldn't be found. He dreaded facing Manda and the others with the news that she was gone.

Running in her bare feet wasn't the best way to travel, Alice found. There seemed to be more slippery pine needles, leaves, and tree roots than she had noticed before. This wasn't the path she'd come on, but she didn't dare turn around to search for it. Whatever was chasing her was falling behind. She could no longer hear the crunch of branches. But what if it had gone around the trees and was waiting to pounce on her? She mustn't stop until she reached the creek and could see the house.

All at once Alice was pulled back sharply. Her heart almost stopped.

She looked around to see what had grabbed her.

Then she sobbed with relief. Her skirt was caught on the branches of a fallen tree. The only sound she could hear was her own gasping breath.

Peering around cautiously, she saw nothing but trees in every direction. Carefully Alice loosened her skirt from the branch. She was glad it wasn't torn. Ma wouldn't be happy about that, and Frances would probably give Alice the task of mending it.

Gratefully she sat down and leaned against the tree. She was weary and would rest for a few minutes. Then she'd make up her mind which way home might be. Resting her head against the tree trunk, she fell asleep.

When she awoke, the woods seemed a little darker than before. How long had she slept? She must make herself get up, or it would be past suppertime at home. She was hungry and thirsty, and there didn't appear to be anything to eat or drink out here in the woods.

Before she could move, though, Alice's heart thumped again. A voice shouted something she didn't understand, and the sound echoed throughout the woods until it seemed that there must be a hundred people saying the same thing. At the same time, Alice was lifted from the ground by strong brown arms and was carried swiftly through the trees.

The shout reached Silver Wing and Luke, and Silver Wing smiled.

“They have found her. She will be at home before we are.”

Luke was startled. “How do you know?”

“They just told us. Did you not hear them?”

“I heard a noise, but I didn't know what it was.”

“A happy noise,” Silver Wing said. “It is the signal that the child is safe. It is the quickest way invented to send a message. One man will bring her home, and the others will return to the village.”

When they reached the creek, Luke was amazed. The whole family was already gathered around Alice. Silver Wing had predicted correctly.

Simon ran to meet Luke and Silver Wing. “Alice is here!” he called. “She's already here! Swift Eagle brought her, and he's gone. Did you see him? How did you know she was here so you could come home?”

But Simon didn't wait for answers to any of his questions. He raced back to the others as Alice began telling her story.

It was an evening of rejoicing. Silver Wing was invited to stay, but after lingering just long enough to join in thanking God for Alice's safe return, she said she had to get back to her family. They would meet again soon, she promised.

When chores and supper were over, a sober, thoughtful Luke retired to the bunkhouse alone. He sat quietly looking at the stars, reliving the events of the day. When Henry returned, Luke intended to have a long talk with him about the God who had answered in response to the call of His children.

Mr. Rush, Henry, and Ethan returned from Willow Creek the week after the big sale. The family was happy to have them home and eager to share the news of all that had happened while they were gone. When Alice's story was repeated, Ethan regarded her sternly.

“I thought you were old enough that I wouldn't have to keep my eye on you every minute. Ma told me to look after you, but I can't watch you for the rest of my life.”

“I'm sorry, Ethan. I won't do it again.”

“She won't have time to,” Simon put in. “Frances has her sewing every minute that Polly doesn't have a job for her.”

“We don't need your comments, Simon,” Mr. Rush told him. “I recall you once did something just as foolish.”

Mrs. Rush wanted to hear about her friends in Willow Creek.

“Lydia sent you some things. Said she wished you had come along to visit,” Mr. Rush replied. “The schoolteacher asked how Frances is doing with the children's lessons, and all the ladies showed up with good food the day of the sale.”

“Did you sell everything, Papa?” Frances asked.

“We did. A lot of things went to the folks who bought the house. Family named Ferguson. Strangers to me, but your uncle George knows them. It was a successful trip.”

In the kitchen, Henry leaned back in his chair with a look of satisfaction. “I'm glad to be home. I missed your cookin', Polly. George's wife, Myra, tries, but she don't have the years behind her that you got.”

“You gave that compliment with one hand and took it back with the other,” Luke teased.

“Now, I didn't mean—”

“I'll take a compliment any way I can get it,” Polly said. “Cookin' is one thing I'm good at, and I'm glad I got a family that enjoys it. How'd you like the train ride?”

“Have to say it was a mite bit easier travelin' than the first trip I made out here,” Henry admitted. “Didn't run into any rattlers and didn't have to get my own meals. Don't know as I'd want to spend two weeks livin' in a passenger train, though.”

“I'm glad to have you all back,” Luke told him. “Simon was a big help, but he don't take the place of a man. Has Ethan said any more about goin' to school?”

“Nope. He spent some time out on the Boncoeur place with Bert, but he never mentioned school.”

“Just as well,” Luke said. “He'll have his own place to run when he gets older. The experience'll do him more good than book learnin'.”

When July arrived, it was extremely hot and dry.

“I declare, even the springhouse feels like an oven.” Polly pushed her wet hair back from her face and fanned herself with her apron. “That wind could peel the skin right off your arms. Don't know what we'd do without the summer kitchen. Scarce any point in buildin' a fire out there, though. The bread'll bake on top of the stove.”

Henry and Luke splashed water over their heads when they came in for supper.

“There weren't no cool place to work out there today,” Luke said. “Thought for a while I might not make it.”

“If you hadn't sent Alice and Simon out with lemonade, neither one of us would've made it,” Henry said. “I can't remember the last three summers bein' this hot.”

“They never been any different out here,” Polly told him. “You can see the heat poppin' up off the ground. I'm afraid everything is gonna shrivel up and die, including us.”

The men sat down to eat the cold supper Polly had prepared. Ham slices, potato salad, baked beans, pickles, fresh bread, and tomatoes would ordinarily be a welcome summer meal. Tonight, however, Luke just pushed the food around his plate.

“Too hot to eat,” he said when Polly mentioned it to him. “Guess I'll go out to the bunkhouse and shuck these clothes.”

Henry and Polly both watched him leave.

Polly's brow was furrowed with concern. “Ain't nothin' ever separated Luke from his meal before he was done with it, even if he had to take it with him.”

“I'll try to get him to go down to the creek and cool off,” Henry said. “It was pretty hot out there today.”

The next morning, Henry entered the kitchen alone. “Luke says he's gonna rest a few minutes more. Then he'll be in. But I dunno. He don't look good to me.”

Polly dropped her spoon in alarm. “Rest a minute? Luke? He's too stubborn to lie down, even if he was near dead. He must be sick.” She placed Henry's breakfast before him, then headed for the bunkhouse.

Ethan was walking toward her from the barn.

“Luke didn't help with the milkin' this morning?” she asked.

“No,” Ethan replied. “We told him we'd do it. He tried to get up, but I don't think he feels too good. I was going to see if he was coming to breakfast.”

Polly was becoming more worried by the minute. “You go on in and eat. I'll see to Luke.”

At the door she called to him.

The answer was weak but determined. “I'm comin', Polly. Don't get yourself in a knot.” There was silence for a moment, then, “Well, mebbe I ain't. Think I'll stay here a bit. You go on back to your kitchen. I'll be fine.”

“I ain't goin' back till I see what's ailing you, Luke.” Polly stomped into the room and stood at the foot of Luke's bunk. “Why, you're in the same clothes you had on last night!” She proceeded to strip the shirt off his back, and Luke hadn't enough strength to resist. “Now, where's your nightshirt?”

At this, Luke showed more life. “I ain't puttin' on no nightshirt in the morning! And if I do, no woman's gonna help me with it!”

The energy needed to make that declaration was more than Luke had to spare. His head dropped back on the pillow, and his eyes closed. Polly found the garment in question, and Luke was soon lying in a straightened bed with a cold, wet cloth on his forehead.

“If you 'spect to live out your natural days, you're gonna have to let a woman take care of a few things,” Polly commanded. “Now don't you move from there. I'm sendin' Henry for the doctor. You're a sick man.”

When young Dr. Timothy Flynn arrived, he agreed with Polly. “Breakbone fever,” he said. “It'll take a while to get over it. He'll need good nursing.”

“I can't spend my days runnin' 'tween here and the house,” Polly decided. “Is this stuff likely to go through the family?”

The doctor shook his head. “No. It's the result of an insect bite. If you keep mosquito netting around the beds, it likely won't spread to the others.”

Chad and Henry were able to get Luke to the house. Manda set up a bed in the parlor, and the room was forbidden to the children.

“Should be out there workin',” Luke muttered weakly when Polly brought soup to him.

“You ain't needed out there to watch the wheat grow,” Polly told him. “You'll be needed to harvest it, so lie still and get well.”

“Ain't never been this sick before. Feels like my legs is gonna drop off and my back is broke. How long's this stuff s'posed to last?”

“Quite a while, the doc says. But he never knowed anybody to die from it.”

“Don't know whether that's good news or not,” Luke groaned. “Seems like it might be better to be put out of my misery.”

Henry came to visit him in the evening. “We sprayed the bunkhouse and put screens on the windows. Too bad we didn't think about doin' it before you got sick.”

“You think the Lord is punishin' me for saying I'd take my chances on livin' long enough to get right with Him?”

“Nope. That ain't the way He works. He's merciful, and He's givin' you more time to straighten things out. Won't hurt you none to think it over while you can't do nothin' else.”

Luke had determined to do just that, but it was hard to keep his mind on anything when the fever rose and every bone in his body felt broken. Manda and Polly kept him supplied with cold drinks and ice chips, as well as cool cloths for his head. The days all seemed the same as one week passed, and then two.

When he finally tried to sit up in bed, Luke discovered that he had no strength to do so. “I'm worse'n Alice's rag doll,” he complained. “The fever sure did take the stuffin' out of me.”

While the women looked after Luke, Henry and Ethan took care of the chores and the field work, along with Chad, who rode out to check on his sheep and cattle that grazed on the prairie. In the evenings, Chad seemed preoccupied with his account books and papers and seldom entered into family conversations or activities.

Ethan's visit with Bert had increased his determination to attend school in the fall. When it became clear that Luke was indeed getting better, Ethan penned a letter to his friend.

July 15, 1912

Dear Bert,

Luke has been very sick, so I haven't told Pa that I plan to leave as soon as the crops are in. I'll ask him for the money I've earned and come as soon as I can, probably by the end of September. I'll stay until April, when it's time for spring planting.