Heart of the Sandhills (27 page)

“Who do I ask for that?”

“
Let him who lacks wisdom, ask of God
,” Gen recited.

“Aaron says God doesn’t listen to infidels.”

“Then stop being an infidel and come to Him with what little faith you already have. That’s where it all begins.”

He took his hat off and smoothed the brim. He cleared his throat. “I’ll never forget you, Genevieve Two Stars,” he said quietly. “And I’ll be thinking on what you’ve said. And, listen, if I’ve done anything—well, maybe I’ve thought—”

“Stop,” Gen said. “Don’t say anything more. You’re a good man, John. If there is any fault in our friendship, we both own it.”

He looked up at her, surprise shining in his blue eyes.

“But it stops here. I won’t be taking any more walks around the parade ground with you, Captain Willets. That was foolish of me, and I should have known better.”

Whatever John Willets might have been thinking in his moments of contemplating Genevieve Two Stars, he now realized that, like Genevieve, he had been foolish. But in his case, there might even be an element of sin in what he’d done. He smiled wryly at the thought of such a religious concept rising in the thoughts of an avowed unbeliever. Pulling himself to attention, he saluted her. “My respects to you and your husband, Mrs. Two Stars,” he said.

Gen smiled and nodded. She thanked him again and went inside the chapel, aware that, whatever her interchange might have done in John Willets, it had accomplished a far better work in her own heart. She made her way to the front of the chapel and knelt at the altar.
Father in heaven. Thank You for bringing john Willets over here so that I could share my faith with him . . . and be reminded of it myself
.

Genevieve prayed for a long time. She asked for guidance, and she prayed for wisdom in how to help Daniel. But most of all, Gen poured her heart out in thanksgiving to the God who never left her side and who worked His will in all things for the good of His own
. . . I don’t know how You are going to work things, yet, Lord. But I believe that You’ve brought this into our lives because there are things we must learn that can be learned only if we endure this trial. Help me know what to do. Show me the next thing and I’ll do it.

At that moment, Gen felt something new. A flutter of movement so fleeting she thought she must be imagining things. She stopped praying and waited, concentrating, almost breathless with anticipation.
Yes
. She scooted back on the front pew, smiling.

John Willets allowed himself one last, wistful glance at the chapel door before heading across the parade ground toward the sutler’s. He felt strange, almost like he did right before a battle. There was the sense that something profound was about to happen, and the anticipation of it was exhilarating. He glanced up at the mountains in the distance, noticing their beauty in a new way.
How can a man look at that and not believe in God.
Aaron Dane had said that one morning when they were arguing about religion over their early morning coffee. Now, as Willets looked at those same mountains, he was inclined to agree.
All right
, he thought.
There is a God
.

He looked at the mountains again.
You are there. I am here. It might be interesting to know if You are hearing this. And if You are . . . if You will send someone to talk to me about crossing the gap between us.
At the moment he had the thought, John remembered another conversation with Aaron Dane where they discussed the gap between man and God and how Jesus Christ had provided a way to cross it. He couldn’t recall everything Dane had said that day. Perhaps they would have to discuss it again.

The steps of a good man are ordered by the L
ORD
: and he delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the L
ORD
upholdeth him with his hand.

—Psalm 37:23–24

Just inside the infirmary door, Elliot bent down and picked up a tin cup before walking down the open center aisle toward Daniel’s empty bed. The patient was huddled on the floor leaning against the wall, his arms folded, his good leg bent, his forehead resting on his knee.

“Go away,” he said without looking up.

“You may be able to chase your wife away but I am not so easily ruled,” Elliot said, as he placed the tin cup on the bedside table. He perched on the edge of the hospital bed. “Now suppose you tell me what’s going on?”

Two Stars leaned his head against the wall and didn’t answer.

Elliot sat down on the floor beside him. Seeing the blood seeping through the bandaged stump, he said, “Should I be calling Dr. Grainger?”

“No,” Daniel said miserably. “He took the rest of the stitches out today. He even said we could leave the infirmary. It doesn’t hurt that much. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Better take a look anyway,” Elliot said. “You want some help?”

“I’ll check it later,” Daniel said. “When I’m alone. Please, Elliot, just leave me be.”

“Forgot the leg wasn’t there, I suppose. “ Elliot looked around him. The bed had been shoved away from the wall. The chair Gen usually sat on was lying on its side and the bedcovers hung over the side of the bed touching the floor, testament to Daniel’s trying to catching himself and failing. “That must have been some fall.” Touching the curve of his metal hook, he said, “I used to reach for things all the time. Can’t tell you how many glasses of water I knocked over with this hook before I remembered I didn’t have a hand anymore.” He was quiet for a moment. “And I didn’t want anyone to see the stump, either.”

Daniel turned his head and looked at Elliot, then down at his stump. He pounded his thigh with his fist. “God has done a lot of things for me I should be thankful for. And I am. But this. I just don’t understand why He had to take my leg.”

“I used to wonder the same thing about my hand,” Elliot said. “At the time it seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen. I thought my life was over.” He paused. “It wasn’t. I thought I’d never be happy again. I was wrong.” He grunted as he remembered something else and considered whether or not he should mention it. Suspecting he had just discovered the crux of Daniel’s fears, he decided to say it. “And, being the shallow kind of man I was, the thing I worried about most was women. I didn’t think a woman would ever have me. I could always think my way through dinner and small talk without the hand, but when it came to—well, to closing the bedroom door at night and—well, you know what I mean. I just didn’t think a woman would be able to stand the idea.” He took a deep breath. “But, as it turned out, I was wrong about that, too.” He cleared his throat before adding, “Hardest thing I ever did was let Jane see the stump. Repulsive, I thought.”

“It
is
repulsive,” Daniel said.

Elliot nodded. “But you know what Jane did, Two Stars? She didn’t shudder or pull away. Just cupped it in her palm and said nothing. When I looked up at her, she was crying.”

“I don’t want pity.”

“That wasn’t pity, you fool. It was love. The purest kind. The kind that looked at my hurt and felt it and mourned it.” He paused. “I don’t think I ever loved Jane Williams more than at that moment. When she looked at what I thought was the ugliest part of myself and didn’t retreat—” Elliot gulped and paused. Then he said quietly, “Most people live their whole lives without ever knowing that kind of love.”

“Jane never knew you when you had two hands.” Daniel said. “It’s different for Blue Eyes and me.”

“You do Genevieve a great injustice if you really believe that,” Elliot said. “Listen to me, Two Stars: that little wife of yours thinks you
hung
the stars. And I’m fairly certain she still believes you could hang a few more . . . even with just one leg.”

“I can’t even get myself out of bed and take a step,” Daniel said miserably.

“Why not?”

“I can’t maneuver that leg Picotte made. It’s like hauling a log around. That’s what made me fall.” He pounded his thigh again.

“Then think of a better way,” Elliot said. He leaned over and nudged Daniel on the shoulder. “You lost a leg. That’s terrible. But you know something? It’s happened thousands of time before you, and if men continue to be idiots and fight wars, it will likely happen thousands more. Whether it proves to be a minor inconvenience or the end of your happiness is up to you. But I’m telling you from experience that making it a minor inconvenience is the much better choice.”

When Daniel didn’t move to get up off the floor, Elliot stood up. “Look, my friend, I spent months in a hospital having subsequent sections of myself hacked off while the doctors tried to stop the gangrene creeping up my arm. Thankfully the third operation did the trick. You know what I finally learned from all that? In the end, the awful thing that happens isn’t what life is about. Life is about what we
do
with the awful thing that happens. Of course we feel terrible. We wonder about the future. We’re afraid. We grieve. But there’s a season for all those and then there’s a season to get a grip and get on with life. Think about what the two of you have already been through together, Daniel. Are you going to let this destroy it?”

“Ask Blue Eyes,” Daniel said, “and John Willets.”

Elliot snorted. “You know what you are thinking just isn’t true. Not because of him, but because of
her
.”

“I don’t want her to see me this way.”

“It’s too late, best beloved.” Gen’s voice sounded from where she stood at the end of the bed.

Daniel looked up. He braced himself against the wall, pushed his hands flat against the floor and closed his eyes.

“Elliot,” Gen said, “if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with my husband.” She waited for Elliot to leave before stepping across Daniel and sliding down the wall to sit beside him on the floor.

“I have to ask your forgiveness,” she began. “I knew you were worried about John Willets. But I let you worry. I thought it might make you want to get better. That was wrong.” Daniel started to speak, but she interrupted him. “No. Just let me talk. I’ve never seen you this way before. I don’t mean the leg being gone. I mean the anger and the hurt. And whatever other feelings you have that you won’t share with me. I don’t understand why you won’t share them, but I just want you to know I won’t be walking with John Willets anymore.”

She moved to where she could look up into his face. “I love you, Daniel Two Stars. It doesn’t matter how angry you get, you can’t send me away and you can’t push me out of your life. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. But I’m not going away. Ever again.”

She stood up. “Now get yourself back onto the bed. There’s some blood on the bandage and we didn’t bring you this far to get a new infection and to start all over again. Elliot and Aaron and Robert and Big Amos say they won’t start for home until you are ready to come with them. So you owe it to them to take care of yourself. I’m going to go get some fresh water. When I get back, you need to be back up in bed.”

When Gen returned with the fresh pail of water, Daniel was waiting in bed. When she began to unwrap the bandage, he braced himself. He watched her while she worked, waiting for the quick breath, the moment when she would look away and break his heart.

When the last strip of cloth fell away from the wound, she did indeed take a deep breath. And she did look away from the stump . . . to look directly at him. Her eyes were shining with tears, but still she smiled. “I don’t think you really even need a bandage anymore. The blood is from a little tear where there was a stitch. It’s nothing.”

He didn’t realize how tense he’d been until he relaxed and slumped back against the pillows. His hands were shaking as he brushed his hair back off his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his head. “Elliot—Elliot thinks we might be able to think of a better way for me to walk.”

“I know you can,” she said.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking I can probably ride a horse whether I can walk or not. I mean,” he said, looking down at his legs. “Most of the gripping is done with the knees. I’m weak, but I think I might be able to do it on a gentle horse.”

“You’ve always liked a horse that had spirit,” Gen said.

“What if I fall off and land on my bad leg?” he said.

“Then you get up and try again. And again. And again. Until you find a way.” She busied herself with the bandages, with smoothing the blankets at the foot of his bed, with lighting the lamp beside the window. She positioned her chair beside the lamp and lay her Bible on the table.

“I’m going to walk over to the mess hall and see if it’s too late to get you some supper,” she said.

When she walked by the bed, he grabbed her hand. She caught her breath and waited, her heart pounding.

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

“All right,” she said. “Then I’ll—I’ll read to you?”

“That would be nice,” he said gently. “In a minute.”

She looked down at him. With his free hand he motioned with his index finger. “Come here, Blue Eyes. If you don’t mind a kiss from a one-legged coward.”

As it turned out, she didn’t mind. And it wasn’t just one kiss.

The next morning when Elliot stopped in to visit, Daniel ordered Gen to go away. “Don’t go away angry, best beloved,” he grinned. “Just go away. I need to talk to Elliot.”

“Mrs. Grainger is making a new dress for the Thanksgiving ball,” Gen said. “I’ll see if I can help her with any handwork.”

When Gen was gone, Daniel swung his leg over the edge of the bed and sat up. “I’m weak as a newborn foal, Elliot. But I’m wondering . . .” and he laid out a plan.

Elliot smiled. “We can do that,” he said. “But let me get Robert and Big Amos and Aaron over here. They might have ideas, too.”

The men spent most of the morning together. Then they summoned Picotte and gave him a new carving assignment. As soon as he left, Daniel began to practice walking with a crutch. He was dizzy and he almost fell more than once, but Big Amos kept up a hilarious running commentary, and by the time Gen returned, Daniel met her at the door smiling. He put his arm around her and pulled her to his good side. “How’s that?” he asked, grinning at Aaron.

“Seems like old times,” Aaron said.

Gen blushed.

Over the next week Daniel began to eat more. He headed outside with his crutch and finally was strong enough to walk all the way to the stables and back on his own. Every day he grew stronger and better able to balance on one leg. When the infirmary beds began to fill with soldiers with various complaints, he and Gen moved into the room offered by Dr. and Mrs. Grainger.

“I think you’ve walked a few miles today,” Gen said one evening. She ran her hands over his shoulders and arms and commented on the muscles. “That’s the man I fell in love with,” she whispered, leaning close to kiss him. He returned the kiss. She closed her eyes and wished for more. It was not given.

He stayed away longer during the day. The grayness disappeared from his face, and by the end of the second week, when they joined the Graingers at their supper table, she looked across at him and realized every trace of what had happened was gone . . . except for the crutch.

There was talk of returning to Fort Laramie. Robert and Big Amos wrote letters saying they would be home for Christmas. Aaron and Elliot wrote the same news to New York. But Daniel said nothing about what might happen with the two of them after Fort Laramie. Gen tried not to question. She thanked God for his healing and the strength returning to his body. And she longed to tell him her secret . . . but held back. She didn’t know what she was waiting for, but it was a gift for a special moment. She would know when the time was right. And it was not right. Not yet.