Heart of the Sandhills (13 page)

Please, God
, Gen thought desperately,
send help!

The prayer had scarcely formed in her mind when Abner Marsh came into view astride a tall bay horse.

Gen pulled her legs up beneath her and wrapped her arms around her knees in a vain attempt to become invisible. Trembling with terror, she began to cry. Inwardly she was screaming,
God . . . send help!

Marsh pulled his horse to a walk and approached slowly, enjoying the sight of his dogs doing as they had been trained. Still dragging a piece of the rope that had tied it in place in the cave, one of the dogs was shredding a portion of the little squaw’s dress. The other two alternately jumped high against the tree and spun in circles in a frenzied attempt to get at her. She was there, perched high in the tree, her legs drawn up beneath her, her dark skin paler than usual. As he got closer, he realized she was looking at him. He pulled his horse up and stared back at her, hoping the hatred he felt for her and her kind showed on his face. When he nudged his horse closer, he could see the tears streaming down her face. Still, he thought, there was something in those blue eyes that was neither surrender nor fear. There was something else. In another setting, he would have thought the expression was one of pity. He could see her lips move. But she wasn’t calling out for mercy. It occurred to him that the fool woman was praying.

And as Abner looked up at the treed Indian woman, something happened. She was so small, he thought. Hardly big enough to be a grown woman. More the size of Pris and Polly back at home. And the dogs. The dogs were doing their job. Having treed their prey they were still trying to get at it, waiting for their master to shoot it out of the tree, ready to tear it to pieces. He looked at the woman again. Sally had said something about her one night at supper, something about her going to Marjorie Grant’s and helping the women with their quilting. When Sally said Harriet Baxter and Lydia Quinn thought Genevieve Two Stars was a nice woman, he’d slapped her and reminded her what she was to think about Indians. But now, looking up at the Indian perched on the tree branch, shivering and staring at him with those brilliant blue eyes, he had to look away. No one had told him Genevieve Two Stars was a half-breed. It didn’t really matter, he supposed, but if she was part white . . . Abner blinked. He wished she would do anything but just sit there quietly looking at him with her lips moving like that. Her hair covered half her face, but he could see the bruise anyway. He saw the bloodstained rag wrapped around her forearm, the white petticoat showing from beneath the skirt Goliath had ripped.

“Goliath!” he shouted. “Pilate! Thor! Off!” Immediately the dogs moved away from the tree. They trotted over to Abner’s horse and waited.

Gen braced herself, thinking Marsh would either shoot her now or order her down. She had decided she would not get down, not of her own free will. Her heart pounded as she stared back at him.
God help me
, she prayed.

Abner Marsh’s face changed. The twisted hatred shining in his eyes faded and was replaced with something. Gen could not call it kindness. Perhaps it was shame, she would think later. Whatever it was, it signaled the end. He looked down at his dogs. He pulled back on his horse’s reins and the animal backed away. When the dogs hesitated, Abner stopped. He did not look back at Gen. Instead, he yelled for his dogs, urged his animal into a trot, and rode out of sight.

Daniel pulled his horse up. Behind him, Aaron and Robert followed suit. “What does it mean when they are silent like that?” he asked. He didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t wait for one. The men urged their horses ahead, descending into the morning fog as they picked up the pace. Ahead of Robert and Aaron and on a faster horse, Daniel disappeared into the swirling mists.

His legs and feet soaked with moisture from the tall grasses, Daniel forged ahead, forcing himself to pray, but fearing God would not give what he asked. When the fog grew thicker, he had to pull up. Behind him he could hear Aaron and Robert’s horses plodding toward him. He listened for the dogs somewhere up ahead, but all he could hear was the sound of some large animal breaking through the underbrush. Reaching behind him for his rifle, Daniel climbed down off his horse and waited for Robert and Daniel to catch up. When they did, he motioned for them to dismount. Both men slid off their horses, using them as a shield against whatever was approaching.

There was a barely perceptible flash of color in the fog ahead. Daniel dropped his rifle and charged toward it. It only took a few strides for him to reach his Blue Eyes, to pull her into his arms and lift her up. His eyes closed, he held her to himself, thanking God at the feeling of her arms around his neck, listening to her sob out love both to him and their God.

When he finally set her back to the earth and brushed her hair back from her face, his fingers traced the lump at her temple and touched the bruises. He touched the bloodstained bandage around her forearm and his dark eyes filled with rage. When he noticed her ripped skirt something else appeared on his face—hurt, and disbelief, and desperation.

Aaron and Robert, who had been about to join the celebration, took one look at Gen and turned away. “Give them time alone,” Robert muttered. Together he and Aaron headed off to wait beneath a tree just coming visible as the morning sun cleared the fog away.

Daniel gathered his wife in his arms and began to weep.

“It’s not what you think, best beloved.” Gen reached up to touch his face. “Look at me,” she lay her open palm against his cheek and met his gaze. “He didn’t hurt me.” She touched the bruises and the lump on her face. “I slipped and fell this morning and hit my head.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s a miracle, Daniel. Just for you and me. Abner Marsh didn’t hurt me.”

Holding her close, Daniel stroked her hair. “I believe you,” he whispered. “It’s just—I didn’t think—I didn’t think God would answer the way I wanted Him to.” He sighed. “I doubted Him. Again.” He waved Robert and Aaron over. “She’s all right,” he said as they approached.

“He had me tied up in some cave,” Gen explained. “And this morning when I got out, my legs were so stiff, I slipped in the mud and hit my head. And then,” she looked down at her ripped skirt, “then when the dogs had me up in a tree one of them managed to grab hold and tear—”

Daniel almost growled, “Abner Marsh had his dogs tree you like some animal being hunted?”

Gen looked up and saw something new in her husband’s face that frightened her.

The emotion was echoed in Robert’s and Aaron’s faces as well. She hurried on. “The dogs couldn’t get at me. They just paced around below.”

“We heard them,” Aaron said bluntly. “That’s what brought us this way.”

Gen nodded. “Yes. Well, Mr. Marsh must have been a good ways ahead of you. He could have done anything. Anything at all.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “I was up on a branch looking down at him. All I could think of was to pray.” She shuddered. “If you could have seen his face—” She paused. “But I was praying, and suddenly he just stopped and looked at me and then—oh,” she put her hand on Aaron’s arm, “I couldn’t believe it, he called the dogs to come to him. And they left.”

“Just like that?”

Gen nodded. “Yes.” She looked at each of them. “Just like that. I know he didn’t hear you. The only sounds were the dogs. I don’t know what happened. One minute he was riding toward the tree with that evil smile on his face and the next he was calling his dogs and leaving. He never even looked back. He just disappeared into the fog.”

The men stood looking at one another. Daniel put his arms around her shoulders. The sun came up, bright and shining on the morning dew. Everywhere around them it looked like God had scattered jewels on the grasses and trees. Gen sighed and leaned against her husband. Everything that had happened to her seemed to wash over her at once and she began to shake. Once again, Daniel swept her off her feet and into his arms. Lifting her up onto his horse, he leaped up behind her. When he reached around her for the reins, she leaned back against him and kissed his cheek. And together, they went home.

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

—Matthew 5:44

Captain John Willets set his coffee mug down and leaned back in his chair. He was sitting across from Daniel and Genevieve Two Stars at the rough-hewn table in their tiny cabin. To his left sat Aaron Dane. Footsteps sounded behind him and Willets turned around just in time to see Robert and Nancy Lawrence duck inside. Willets shook his head and swiped his hand over his blond goatee. “Glad to see you Robert,” he said abruptly. “Maybe you can translate what I just heard, because, Daniel,” he peered across the table at Daniel, “I can’t believe what I just thought I heard is what you really said.”

Daniel took Gen’s hand. “We said to let it be, Captain. We don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“That man said the next time something burns it might be Jeb and Marjorie’s house,” Willets said firmly. “Am I right, Mrs. Two Stars? Isn’t that what the man said?”

Gen nodded. “Yes. But he won’t do anything. Because we’re leaving. There’s no need to cause any more trouble.”

“He threatened Jeb and Marjorie?” Robert asked. “When?”

“In the cave,” Gen said quietly. She smiled and reached out to stroke Nancy’s baby’s hair. “But he won’t do it. We don’t have to worry about that.”

“You can’t just let this go!” Aaron spoke up. His was shaking with rage. “You can’t just let someone like that mistreat you and do nothing.”

“I agree with the boy,” Captain Willets said. “I can’t act on official jurisdiction, of course, but there’s a few men up at the fort who would be happy to pay an unofficial visit to the Abner Marsh farm. And he wouldn’t have to know the visit was unofficial.”

“No.” Gen said firmly. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No.”

“Don’t let him do this to you,” Aaron urged. He leaned forward, pleading with Daniel and Robert. “This isn’t like you. You don’t just run away and do nothing.”

“We are not doing
nothing
,” Gen said gently. She looked at each of the men in turn. “We are deciding to forgive him.”

“He won’t care! The only thing a man like that understands is the kind of thing Captain Willets can do.” Aaron’s blue eyes flashed angrily. Something in the way he held his head, the way he tensed his jaw, reminded Gen of his father.

“Aaron,” Gen said. “Neither your heavenly father nor your earthly one would want you to take vengeance out of anger. You know Simon would never approve.”

Aaron shoved his chair back and stood up. “Daniel,” he begged. “Don’t let her—don’t let her tell you what to do! It isn’t right! We have to do something. He should have to pay—”

“And he will,” Daniel said, looking up at the furious boy. “But not because of something I did back to him.”

“Are you sure about this?” Captain Willets spoke up. He looked from Daniel to Robert.

Robert nodded. “He might blame Jeb and keep the threat to start another fire. The Grants have two boys. We can’t risk it. And I don’t want to be the cause of any more pain.”

Daniel was gripping his coffee mug so tightly Willets thought it might break. Still, he looked at his wife and nodded. “Blue Eyes insists she wasn’t really hurt. We will thank God for that. And we will move on.” He looked up at his friend. “Can we still come to Fort Ridgely?”

“You know you can,” Willets said. “I’ll be proud to ride with you two again.” He stared at the two men. Family or none, friends or not, he knew without a doubt that only a few years ago either one of them would have taken bloody vengeance on Abner Marsh and his family and relished hanging their scalps from their tepee poles. He had fought alongside Daniel. The man was a merciless warrior in battle, someone Willets would gladly entrust with his life, knowing it was in good hands. Willets had never seen either of these men express a shred of weakness or fear. And yet, here they were, practicing something Willets could not fathom . . . something that was inherently against their traditions. They were talking about forgiving Abner Marsh, a man who didn’t think he needed forgiveness and who would likely never know it had been granted by his victims. What galled Willets even more was the knowledge that Marsh would likely boast for the rest of his life about the time he took action and rid the county of the last of the savages threatening his family.

“You sure about this thing with Marsh?” he asked again. “I know enough about the Dakota to know how you usually handle this kind of thing. Someone hurts one of yours, you hurt them. An eye for an eye. I’m not saying we’d hurt Marsh. But I’d take singular delight in putting the fear of God in him. And I’d let him know that if anything suspicious ever happens to the Grants, he’d likely be held responsible.”

Gen spoke up. “No. There’s more to it than just us and the Grants, Captain Willets. That man is sick. Sick with hatred and anger. I can’t imagine what it must be like for his wife and his two daughters living with a man like that. It could only get worse for Sally and the girls if we seek revenge.”

At mention of the Marsh girls, Aaron blanched. He hadn’t thought of that. Of what things might be like for Polly. She was a nice girl, too. Maybe not as pretty as Amanda Whitrock, but she had her good points.

Daniel said firmly, “Let it be.”

Willets stared at his friend for a moment before finally shrugging. “All right. If that’s what you want.”

“What I want,” Daniel said quickly, “is to torture Abner Marsh for a few hours before I tear his head off and feed it to his dogs.” The force of his words made everyone uncomfortable. It grew so quiet in the room they could all hear the infant in Nancy’s arms snoring softly.

Daniel sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. “But God wants me to forgive.”

“Marsh won’t ever even know he’s been forgiven,” Willets said abruptly. “He doesn’t comprehend there’s anything to forgive.”

“I can’t control Abner Marsh,” Daniel said. “All I can do is try to keep the hatred out of my own heart. I can’t say I have forgiven him yet. But I can ride away without seeking vengeance. That’s a beginning.”

Willets pondered what his friend had said. He shook his head. “I don’t understand it. But I’ll tell you one thing: I can appreciate that doing it probably takes more strength than what I proposed.”

Daniel took in a deep breath. “You have no idea,” he said. Then, he turned toward Nancy. “I haven’t gotten to hold him yet.”

Nancy smiled and willingly gave the infant up. Daniel pulled the bundle to him and sat down abruptly, managing the baby with all the grace of a two-year-old trying to tote a ripe watermelon.

“Here,” Gen said, laughing and taking the baby to cuddle. “You look ridiculous.”

“His name?” Daniel asked.

“Comes Out Alone,” Nancy teased.

Robert grinned. “Last night we read in the Scriptures together about a man who was taken to a foreign place. Others meant to do him harm and sent him away. But God turned it to good so that many were blessed. We will name our son Joseph. And we will hope that what Abner Marsh has meant for evil, God will use for good.” He nodded at Daniel. “Beauty for ashes.”

“You’ll come to Fort Ridgely then?” Captain Willets said quietly. When everyone around the table nodded, he said, “You can camp across the parade ground where you did last time. As long as you want. Pick a spot and I’ll send some men over with tents.” He grinned. “I’ll venture a guess Edward Pope will be around with a pot of soup as soon as you get there.” He made a loose fist and pounded Aaron on the shoulder. “And if you come with them, I’ll see to it you get a taste of army life if you want it.” He teased, “Real army life, son. Not what you’ll hear about at some fancy military academy with a bunch of boys who haven’t ever been West.”

Aaron’s eyes widened with anticipation.

Gen smiled at him. “We’ll write Jane and Elliot tomorrow and let them know you’re staying a while longer.” Then she added, “But don’t think for a minute I’m going to let you go any farther West than Fort Wadsworth. When Daniel and Robert leave with Captain Willets, you’ll be on your way back to New York on the first boat that heads downriver.”

“Oh, Marjorie,” Gen said, blinking back tears. “We can’t take Goldie. We just can’t.” She sat on the wagon seat next to Daniel choking back tears.

“You surely can,” Marjorie said firmly. She tied the cow to the back of Gen and Daniel’s wagon.

Gen protested. “But she’s your best milk cow.”

“And you been my best friend since Jeb and me been here in Minnesota.” Marjorie patted Gen’s hand but didn’t look up. Instead, she turned to where Nancy was riding in the wagon box, nestled into fresh hay in one corner, her baby in her arms. “At least you won’t have to worry if yer milk don’t hold up,” Marjorie said to Nancy. As she spoke, she reached out to stroke the baby’s cheek. “Never saw such a head of hair,” she muttered. Surveying the small collection of household goods packed behind Nancy, Marjorie shook her head. “Wish we could do more.” She bit her lip. “Wish you didn’t have to go.”

“It’s for the best,” Nancy said gently.

A familiar clatter in the distance turned everyone’s attention toward the horizon and presently two wagons followed by about half a dozen men on horseback appeared on the road from New Ulm. To everyone’s surprise, the cortege turned in at the Grants’. Thomas Quinn and Earl Baxter were driving the wagons. The mounted men had been to Jeb’s before—with Abner Marsh one morning a few weeks ago.

Jumping down from his wagon and striding over to Jeb, Quinn said, “Earl and me and some of the neighbors are starting a new barn today. You be thinking where you want it while we unload.” Walking to the back of his wagon, Quinn pulled aside the canvas cover to reveal a rooster and hen inside a homemade cage. There were two stoneware crocks and a side of dried beef.

Quinn grabbed one of the crocks and walked up to Daniel and Robert. “Thought we’d just bring a few things to help you on your way,” he said, and set the crock in the back of Daniel’s wagon.

Earl Baxter followed suit, contributing a huge piece of salt pork, a basket full of dried beans, a hundred-pound sack of flour, and a small crock he said was dried apples. “Harriet says it’ll do to make you a pie come Christmas.” Tipping his hat to Nancy and Gen, Baxter joined the group of men unloading lumber.

The Lawrences and the Two Starses would never forget the kindness of their Minnesota neighbors. But what happened next gave not only the Lawrences and the Two Starses, but everyone present, something to wonder over for the rest of their lives. A light carriage with a solitary driver turned in at the farm. Sally Marsh pulled her horse up and climbed down. Pulling a bundle wrapped in brown paper from beneath the carriage seat, she approached Gen. “You want to throw this back in my face, you got every right,” she said nervously. She did not look into Gen’s eyes, but when she reached out to thrust the package at Gen, her bonnet fell back from her face. Gen and Nancy and Marjorie let out a collective gasp at sight of the dark bruises encircling Sally’s right eye. She snatched the bonnet back up in place and ducked her head. “Abner don’t know I come.”

Gen untied the package. When the brown wrapper fell away, it revealed a small quilt made of hundreds of fragments of fabric, each one no bigger than a thumbnail. “Oh, Sally,” Gen said, and reached out to put her hand on Sally’s arm. “It’s—it’s just beautiful.”

Sally whispered hoarsely, “I made that for my boy. The one that died. I never could stand to look at it after that. Took it out more’n once to burn it. But I couldn’t. Had it all these years just put away in my trunk.” She finally summoned the courage to look at Gen. “I worked hard on it, and it’s a beauty. If you’ll take it, maybe you can give it a happy meaning. Use it for your own child someday.” Her chest heaved and she let out a ragged breath.

“I’m so s-s-s-orry for what happened.” She seemed to want to say more, but instead she turned to go.

“It isn’t your fault,” Gen said gently. She touched Sally’s hand, but Sally withdrew it and clutched both her hands to her midsection. Gen repeated, “It isn’t your fault, Mrs. Marsh. None of it.” She ran her hand across the surface of the little quilt. “It’s beautiful. And when I look at it, I’ll always remember your kindness.”

Sally glanced up at Gen. The women’s eyes met for only a second before she turned away. “Thank you for talking to me,” she said. She straightened her shoulders a little, as if a small burden had been lifted. Wearily, she climbed back up onto her seat and, without looking back, turned the carriage around and headed back up the road.

As soon as Sally Marsh’s carriage was out of sight, Daniel and Genevieve said good-bye and climbed up onto the wagon seat. Robert and Aaron mounted up—Robert on the horse they had bought with Abner Marsh’s cash payment for his carpentry and Aaron on Bones, accepted by Daniel as payment for the spring plowing he’d done. “And I won’t take no for an answer,” Jeb had said. “You take him now or I’ll have to follow you up to Fort Ridgely and tie him to your tent stake some night.”

“You’ll let us know where you end up.” Jeb said. He picked up one of the twins. Marjorie followed suit. They stood watching and waving until Daniel’s wagon topped the hill and dipped out of sight.