The Crossed Sabres (39 page)

Spence stared at her. “I’m glad you think that, Faith. I hope you always do.” He hesitated, then said, “One more thing. Like I said, I’d given up. The Sioux were right on top of me, and the closest help was far off, way up on top of that hill. And I knew it would be close to suicide for any of the men to leave that spot and come to help me. But one did.”

“How wonderful, Spence!”

He gave her a wry look. “Miraculous, I’d say—because it was Tom Winslow.” He grinned at her expression, adding, “Yes, I know, Faith—you’re shocked. Well, you can imagine how I felt! I looked up and there, coming right at the Sioux, was Winslow—the one man who hated me more than anybody ever had! He picked me up, put me on his shoulders, and started up the hill. A couple of his men came to help, and then what was left of the Company strafed the Sioux with a steady stream of fire so they wouldn’t get us.”

Grayson paused, his eyes looking troubled as he recalled the rescue. Finally he said, “He dumped me down on the ground when we got to the top, and the doctor took over. The
Indians didn’t give up, so Winslow and the survivors fought them off all that day until the next morning.”

“Did you talk to Tom?”

“Yes.” He shifted in the bed, moving his body carefully to avoid the pain. “I can’t figure it out, Faith. We’ve hated each other for years. I’d have let him die in the dirt and laughed at him. I believed he’d do the same for me. Can’t figure it out, not at all.”

His eyes grew heavy, she saw. “You’re tired, Spence. Try to sleep. I’ll come back in the morning.”

She helped him lie down, pulled a blanket up, then put her hand on his cheek. “Thank God you’re safe.”

He smiled. “I guess it was God,” he said in a voice slurred with sleep. “God . . .and Winslow.”

She left the barracks and went back to the house. Eileen was sitting at the table and seemed much calmer. “Come have some tea. I want to hear all about it, Faith,” she said. Eileen listened carefully; then when Faith told her the strange circumstances surrounding Grayson’s rescue, she exclaimed, “That’s unbelievable! Is Tom back yet?”

“No. Spence said General Terry sent him off with the Ree scouts to keep track of the Sioux. Only the wounded returned on the
Far West.
The rest of the Seventh is on the way back now.”

Eileen got up from the table, walked over to the window and peered outside. “It’s almost dawn,” she said tonelessly, then turned back to Faith. “I’m sorry I behaved so badly, Faith—but it was so much like when they came to tell me that Frank had been killed. That was at night, too. I was in my nightgown, ready to go to bed when Captain Moylan came and knocked on my door.” Her lips grew thin, and a haunted look came into her eyes. “As soon as I heard the knock, I knew he was dead!”

Faith wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but somehow she knew that would not help. She said, “I’m sorry, Eileen.
And I know that no matter what people say, or how sorry they are—none of us can know what that is like.”

Surprise touched Eileen’s eyes and she nodded. “I think that’s true, Faith. People have their own little place inside for grief, and somehow nobody can get in there.” She crossed the room and sat down again. “And some people can handle things like this better than others. They have an inner toughness that most of us don’t. You have it, Faith,” she added quietly.

“I . . .don’t think it’s being tough, Eileen,” Faith responded. “I’m no stronger than anyone else. But I’ve discovered that there’s a way to let God carry my burdens. I know it sounds like a religious platitude, but it’s true. I’ve had the props knocked out from under me and wanted to just quit.” She smiled, her lips soft and gentle. “Well, in a way, I
did
quit. That’s what faith is, I think. You have to give up on what
you
can do and believe that
God
will do it for you.”

“You mean—just do
nothing?
” Eileen asked, a bit perplexed.

“Yes. I used to take care of my niece quite a bit. When she was learning to walk, she became very independent. We’d go walking and she’d pull her little hand away from mine, wanting to do it all herself. Then she’d fall flat—and the first thing she’d do was to reach up for my hand and begin crying for me.” Faith was thoughtful, and she added, “I think that’s how I learned to know God, Eileen. I’d been in church all my life. And I was very self-sufficient. I guess I had a self-made sort of Christianity. But when I fell flat, I saw there was no way I could go on—so I had to learn to lean on God.”

Eileen shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t understand that, Faith. It sounds too easy.”

“It’s not easy. It’s very hard,” Faith replied. “The hardest thing in the world, I think, is to take your hands off your own life and let God do anything He wants with you.”

They talked for a long time while Faith tried to share what it was to completely trust in Jesus. Finally Eileen said, “I’m
glad for you, Faith, but I don’t think I could ever live like that.” She looked out the window as a clear, thin bugle call sounded. “I’ve lived by that bugle. It called my husband to his death!”

“Men who aren’t in the army die, Eileen.”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same, Faith.” With a sigh she rose and said, “I’ll go help at the hospital. We can get Delores to take care of Laurie.”

They left Laurie in the care of Sergeant Maxwell’s wife and went to the infirmary. The doctors were glad to see them, and for the next few days, they spent much of their time nursing the men. Some of them were very young and needed much encouragement, which Faith and Eileen were able to give, often sitting at their bedside or writing letters for them.

On Friday afternoon, Major Bradford stopped to speak with Faith. “You and Mrs. Jennings have done a fine job with these men, Miss Jamison. I appreciate it, and the men are very grateful.”

“It was little enough, Major.”

“No,” he replied, “it was not little,” and added, “A courier from General Reno came this morning with a report that the rest of the regiment will be returning soon. “

“There’ll be no more fighting?”

“Not now, anyway. It was the worst defeat the Army of the United States has ever suffered in the Indian wars. There’s no force to fight with now.” He bit his lip nervously. “We’ll go after them again, of course.” With a sigh he turned and left, speaking to the patients along the way.

Faith felt it was time to return to the mission, so she said goodbye to Eileen and Laurie and the men at the hospital, stopping to bid farewell to Grayson last. By now he was well enough to sit in a chair with his leg propped up.

When she told him she was leaving, he said, “Wish you didn’t have to go back out there, Faith. It’s dangerous.”

Faith smiled. “Living is dangerous, Spence. You’ve discovered that. Come and see me when you’re able.”

He stared at her, but knew her offer was purely an invitation from a friend. “Well, I will!” he responded lightly. “Maybe I’ll even let you pray for me to get converted.”

“I haven’t waited for permission,” she said.

He watched her leave and said softly to himself, “She’s a fine woman!”

****

The attitude of the Indians had changed, Faith soon realized when she arrived at the mission. The news of the defeat of Custer and the destruction of the Seventh Cavalry had sent shock waves through the white world, but it had done something to the Sioux as well. None of them mentioned the battle to Faith, but she perceived their pride. They had been lied to and stripped of their lands so often by the white man that it was inevitable they should feel so.

Faith said nothing to them about the battle, but went about her work as before. For a week she kept to herself, not going to town even once. On Wednesday Nick Owens came out with supplies. When he left, he said, “The regiment came back this morning—what was left of them, anyway.” He gave her a curious look, then asked, “You ever feel like giving up on this work, Faith?”

She perceived he was testing her in some way. “I’ll give up when God gives up, Nick.”

Owens grinned. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, I’ll see you Sunday.”

Faith watched him go, wondering why she hadn’t asked him about Winslow. She’d wanted to but hoped the merchant would bring up the subject. Irritated, she pushed the thought out of her mind—or tried to.

Saturday she worked hard all day and then sat down to a cold supper. In the evening she worked for two hours on her vocabulary list in the Sioux language. She was still struggling with the grammar and trying to make the spitting noises that were woven into the system. “Talk as if you’ve got your
mouth full of mush,” Winslow had advised her once. As she recalled his words, she wondered if she would see him and Laurie soon.

She grew so engrossed in her study that at the sound of a hard knock on the door, she leaped to her feet, a thread of fear cutting off her breath. She hadn’t heard a horse approach and rushed to get the loaded pistol Owens had insisted she keep. “Just show it—or fire into the air. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” he’d said.

Holding the weapon awkwardly, she carefully opened the door a crack and stepped back, saying, “Who is it?”

Winslow poked his head around the door and grinned. “Don’t shoot, lady. I’m not dangerous.”

“Tom!” Faith cried, shocked at the emotion she felt as she looked at him. She had not known until that moment how much she’d missed him. To cover her feelings, she put an angry look on her face. “You’re going to get shot if you don’t call out when you ride up in the middle of the night.”

Winslow was lean as a wolf, she saw as she replaced the revolver. His eyes, black against his tanned face, looked worn and tired. Fatigue and strain had taken its toll.

He was looking at her so intently she said nervously, “I’ve got coffee, Tom.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t ride all the way out here to drink coffee.” He was smiling at her, and added, “I’ve missed you, Faith.”

“When did you get in?”

“Just yesterday.”

“It was a terrible thing, wasn’t it?”

“War always is.”

“Why did you risk your life to save Spence?” she blurted out. “He told me about it.”

He shifted his weight. “Well, it’s a long story. Maybe I will have that coffee.” He sat down, not taking his eyes off her as she poured the coffee and took the chair across from him.

He recounted the battle and eventually the part where he’d
seen Spence about to get killed. “When I saw him about to die, I guess I was glad. But then something happened.” His voice was soft. “I finally saw what you’ve seen all the time, Faith—that for a man to spend his life hating someone is really sad.” He took a few sips of coffee, then went on. “Going to help him wasn’t a logical thing, though. I didn’t even stop to think about it. Just went after him, and some of the boys helped me get him to the top of the hill.”

“It was a wonderful thing you did, Tom,” she said. “It would have been even if you’d liked the man—but to do it for someone you’ve hated, that’s greater!”

He squirmed uneasily, and she knew he didn’t like talking about it, but she could not help asking, “Did you go see him when you got back?”

“Yes. It was a peculiar thing, Faith,” he said with amazement in his voice. “It was as if he was another man, somehow.” He smiled then, the smile softening his expression. “Poor Grayson! He had a hard time when I stopped by. Tried to thank me, and I guess it was the hardest thing he ever did! But he did something I never thought Spence Grayson would do. He asked me to forgive him for what he’d done to me and my wife years ago.”

“And what did you do, Tom?”

He shrugged. “I told him to forget it as far as I was concerned.” He looked at her, adding, “Funny, it was at the center of my life for ten years—and now it’s gone.”

“I’m so glad, Tom!”

They talked so long that Faith got up to get some water to quench their thirst, and found the water pail empty. “I’ll get some fresh water.”

He followed her out to the well. “Let me do that,” he offered and drew a bucket of fresh water. Looking at it, he said, “We needed this on the hill. Never was so thirsty in my life.”

It was a clear night, the sky starry and the moon full. As silence fell, an awkwardness settled upon them.

Suddenly Winslow said, “I’m not taking the commission I came for, Faith.”

“I thought it might be like that,” she replied intuitively. She hesitated for a moment, weighing her next words, then said, “Eileen would never be happy married to an army officer.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Winslow agreed. He lifted his head, listening to the faint cry of a coyote. “That’s why she’s not going to marry one.”

Faith felt a quick stab of loss, but kept her voice even. “I suppose you two have plans, then?”

Winslow shrugged. “Her plans are to marry Larry Dutton.”

Faith thought she had misunderstood him. “What did you say, Tom?”

Winslow laughed, easily and without strain. “Larry came to me almost before I got out of the saddle. He’s a small fellow, but I could see he was ready for trouble. He took me off to one side and said, ‘Tom, you’re my friend, but you probably won’t be in two minutes.’ He went on to tell me that I wasn’t going to ruin Eileen’s life, that he loved her and would marry her if he had to kidnap her!”

“Tom! He didn’t say that!”

“Sure did, and when I went to Eileen, she said pretty much the same thing.” He mused over the memory, then said, “Oh, she didn’t even mention Larry. Just said that she could never marry me, that she wasn’t cut out to be an officer’s wife. Said, too, that I was just marrying her to get a baby-sitter for Laurie.”

“I can’t believe she said that,” Faith murmured.

“Well, she was right, pretty much,” Winslow said slowly. “Eileen’s a fine woman, but she deserves a whole man, not just part of one.”

Faith tried to grasp what he was saying. Finally she asked, “Was it really that way with you, Tom?”

“I haven’t been a whole man for a long time, Faith. I would have brought Eileen very little love—and a lot of bitterness.”
He paused. “Faith,” he said, “I found out something on that hill and—”

He stopped, then told her how he had called on God. “It’s been different, Faith. I was like a stream all polluted and muddy. Now everything seems clear. I’m at peace for the first time in years.”