Soaring Eagle (Prairie Winds Book 3)

by Whitson, Stephanie Grace

  David interrupted her. “And will you come to Philadelphia for Christmas?” When LisBeth didn’t answer, David continued. “Mother will have Sarah close up the house soon. We’ll all be going back to Philadelphia. Tom too. We’re hiring him a private tutor. Sarah’s done well, but Mother wants her to be under Mrs. Titus’s tutelage for a bit longer. I suspect the real reason is that Mother’s so fond of Sarah and Tom she doesn’t want to be away from them. When we next come to Lincoln, it will be spring. I don’t want to be away from you that long, LisBeth. Will you come for Christmas?”

  “I can’t be gadding about the country. I have responsibilities. Augusta needs me at the hotel.”

  “Augusta is eager to see you get beyond working at the hotel. If it’s a matter of concern, I’ll personally provide funds to hire a replacement for you. I’ll also provide the ticket to Philadelphia.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper. People will talk.”

  “Not if you’re my fiancée.”

  LisBeth retreated to the top of the church steps and opened the door. “Good day, David.”

  Chapter 31

  And therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be gracious unto you, and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have mercy upon you: for the Lord is a God of judgment: blessed are all they that wait for him.

  Isaiah 30:18

  F all bit the leaves from every tree in Lincoln and sent them blowing past Rachel’s window. With every day that went by, Rachel seemed to grow weaker. Dr. Gilbert came and prescribed tonics and diets, but nothing seemed to help. As Rachel grew weaker, Carrie grew more frightened.

  Finally, Rachel gave up leaving her room. Dr. Gilbert shook his head when LisBeth and Augusta asked what could be done. Carrie grew quieter and more desperate, refusing Jim Callaway’s enticements for rides out to the homestead and spending hours by her mother’s bed, reading to her and working on a new doll she was making to replace Ida May.

  The week that David and Abigail Braddock closed up the manse and left for Philadelphia, Sarah and Tom Biddle came for a farewell dinner at the hotel.

  Augusta beamed with pride as she warned, “Don’t you forget us here in Lincoln.”

  “Oh, Aunt Augusta,” Sarah said softly. “Don’t say such a thing. We’ll miss you so. Both of you.” Sarah looked at LisBeth. “I hope you’ll accept Mr. David’s invitation, LisBeth. He’s said he’s hoping you and Aunt Augusta will come to Philadelphia for Christmas. Please do.”

  Augusta turned to LisBeth. “What’s this? You never said a word.”

  “I can’t go to Philadelphia, Augusta. It’s a ridiculous notion. I’m needed here.”

  Augusta protested. “LisBeth Baird, I’ll not have you using me and this hotel as an excuse to turn down a lovely invitation. Of course you’ll go to Philadelphia for Christmas. We’ll both go.” Turning to Sarah she enthused. “You tell David and Abigail Braddock that I’ll be happy to escort LisBeth to Philadelphia.”

  Early the next morning, David pounded on the kitchen door, waking LisBeth and insisting breathlessly that she come to Philadelphia. “Sarah said that Augusta was delighted with the idea. I want to hear you say it, LisBeth. Please. Say you’ll come. I won’t press you about—anything. Just come for Christmas.”

  “All right. We’ll come. But remember, you promised. You won’t press me about—anything.”

  The joy in his face reminded LisBeth of a spoiled child suddenly given his way. Once again, something inside her was gently repulsed. Still, she found herself looking forward to Christmas in Philadelphia.

  “I want to go home, LisBeth,” Rachel said feebly. “I want so desperately to go home.” She held the most recent letter from her parents and wept freely. LisBeth patted her hand and assured her that she would be stronger soon and be able to go home.

  Rachel rubbed her crooked jaw and flexed her crippled hand. Slowly, deliberately she struggled to sit upright and looked squarely at LisBeth as she said firmly. “I’m dying.” LisBeth started to protest, but Rachel held up her hand. “Please, don’t humor me. It’s too late. We both know it. Dr. Gilbert hasn’t been able to help. Things inside me are just too—twisted—to work for much longer.” She smiled wistfully as she added, “I’m glad I wore out working for God, though.”

  “I do wish Carrie could get to know her grandma and grandpa before . . .” She sighed and added quietly, “I would so like to die at home. The family plot is in a grand old cemetery with lots of shade trees. It’s comforting, in a way.”

  LisBeth abruptly turned about. “Rachel, I’ll take you home.”

  Rachel looked at her with wide eyes. “But how? I’m not strong enough.”

  “You’re stronger than you’ll be next week or next month. I’ll take you home. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

  Rachel’s eyes took on an excited glow. “Do you mean it? I think I could manage to walk onto the train. We don’t have to get off again, and Mother and Father would meet us there.”

  “We’re going.” LisBeth said firmly. “I’ll tell Augusta, and we’ll pack today. The train leaves early in the morning. If there are three tickets available, we’ll be on it.”

  Three tickets were available, and Thursday morning found LisBeth King Baird helping Rachel Brown into a Pullman car for the journey home. Augusta blustered and waved and fought back tears as the train pulled out of the station. Carrie leaned out of the window, her red braids bobbing as the train picked up speed. Augusta’s last memory of Rachel and Carrie was of Rachel’s crooked half smile and Carrie blowing kisses. Behind them both, LisBeth’s worried face appeared and she clasped her hands and looked to heaven, thereby imploring Augusta to pray for them all. Augusta nodded and waved, fighting back tears until the train was out of sight.

  The Schlegelmilch sisters clucked in sympathy and presented Augusta with a cup of chamomile tea and a piece of sweet potato pie. “Ven you are vorried, a bit of tea and a bit of sweet, den a lots of prayers. Dat helps,” Cora said as she presented the treat to Augusta. “Dat LisBet, she be all right. Dat Carrie girl, she be wit her Grandma und Grandpa. She be all right. And dat Rachel voman , she be wit her Gott. She be best of all.”

  LisBeth stayed in St. Louis longer than anyone had expected. Writing to Charity of Rachel’s illness, LisBeth shared,

  I don’t really know why I have remained, except that Rachel seems comforted by my presence and Carrie seems to enjoy being able to remember about the mission with someone who has been there and seen the things of which she speaks. As long as I can be a comfort, I will stay. I am daily amazed at Rachel’s rich faith in God and her ability to accept this horrible thing that has befallen her. She seems to be totally trusting of God. It shames me, Charity. I have been so angry with God for taking things away from me. I am beginning to see, through Rachel’s eyes, that perhaps God does allow things to happen so that we will learn to depend on him. That is what Rachel says, and when she speaks of it, I can see in her face that she truly has come to accept this illness as coming from God for a higher purpose. She does not know what it is, she says, but she repeatedly quotes Romans 8:28 to me. Have you read it? As I stand before her in a healthy state, I wouldn’t presume to quote it to Rachel, but when she quotes it to me, it takes on a meaning and beauty that I can’t explain. “. . . all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Just imagine it, Charity, she is facing death, and she knows she will not see Carrie grow to womanhood, yet she simply gives it over to God and without any bitterness at all, she says sweetly, “The eternal God is my refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms.” Oh for a faith like that!

  Do share poor Rachel’s condition with the children and have them pray for her. Perhaps God will yet work a miracle.

  And if Soaring Eagle is yet there —and I pray he is —please tell him how very much it has meant for Carrie to have his gift with her. Tell him that his sister sends her greeting and she also thanks him for the gift of the quilt and wishes him peace.

  Rach
el Brown died not long after LisBeth wrote to Charity and was laid to rest in the family plot in the cemetery filled with trees in St. Louis, just as she had wished. She lived long enough to see Carrie form a strong bond with her grandparents and long enough to share her strong faith in God with LisBeth Baird.

  Dear Jim,

  Poor Rachel Brown was laid to rest today. Carrie is heartbroken, but she will find comfort in her dear grandparents, who truly cherish her and will give her a loving home.

  I have written Charity at the mission to send her a copy of Rachel’s memorial for the Word Carrier.

  There is nothing else that I can do here, and so I will take my leave and be home soon.

  Rachel has left me her Bible. I can see you smiling at this revelation, wondering if perhaps, having been given a second copy of the great book, I will at last read it. Rachel’s Bible has a lovely inscription in the front. It says, “I want to master this Book so that the Master of this Book will master me.” I think it is a lovely sentiment and yes, I will read Rachel’s Bible. When I return to Lincoln, I also intend to pick up Mother’s Bible once more and read the passages she has underlined.

  I wanted to write to you, Jim, because you have expressed such a concern for me —not for any reason other than that you seem genuinely concerned for the person that is LisBeth. You seem to care that I find happiness and peace, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I still have a lot of questions, but being with Rachel during this time wiped away a lot of the bitterness. I have seen in this last year that so many others have suffered as much, if not more, than I have.

  Perhaps without the bitterness standing in the way, I will be able to find my way to that peace that you own —what you called “the peace that passes understanding.”

  Pray that I will find it.

  I will be in Lincoln for only a short while before Augusta and I depart for Philadelphia. The Braddocks have invited us, and Sarah and Tom insist that they will die of homesickness if we do not come. We will stay through Christmas.

  Please keep watch over Joseph while we are gone, Jim. I fear that he is aging quickly, and I know he values your friendship, as do we all. If you are able to come into town before we leave, we would love to see you. If not, we will understand.

  I remain your friend,

  LisBeth King Baird

  P.S. Psalm 55:22. I am trying to see if this works.

  Jim Callaway found himself more than able to go into Lincoln to see LisBeth and Augusta before they left for Philadelphia. Indeed, he alighted on the doorstep of the Hathaway House Hotel the very next evening after LisBeth’s homecoming. He found it necessary to stay in town for several days, joining Joseph for meals in the hotel kitchen and insisting on helping the Schlegelmilch sisters do the dishes.

  “Vot you doin’ vit your hands in my dishvater, eh?” Cora scolded.

  “I’m helping wash dishes, Cora. That’s what. Least I can do after you gave me that second piece of sweet potato pie.”

  Cora clucked and fussed. “You bachelors—you don’t know nutting ‘bout dem dishes. You git on out of my vay, and let me vork!”

  Jim winked at Cora. “You come check my kitchen any time. Bet it’s cleaner than yours!”

  “Ya, and de moon is made ov green cheez too!”

  Jim had joked and teased until the Schlegelmilch sisters finally accepted him. He was the recipient of a vast array of sweets and special teas.

  Coming in from the dining room LisBeth teased, “You’d better watch out, Jim. They’ve set their eye on you and decided you’re a good catch. They’ll be tying you up until you promise to marry one of them if you aren’t careful!”

  “Who’s promising to marry?” Augusta wanted to know as she came in the back door. “I declare, I leave you two for one bank meeting, and there’s marriage and mayhem in my hotel!”

  Augusta plopped down in the old rocker that still stood in the corner of the kitchen. Not waiting for an answer to her question, she offered a summary of the latest financial news and woes in Lincoln. “I pulled N. C. Sweet aside after the meeting and told him my plans for a new hotel nearer the railway station. He very nearly promised the bank would back me, so while we’re in Philadelphia, LisBeth, I’ll be visiting that architect David recommended to get some plans drawn up. I want a really fine building, one that will last into the next century—something to be a legacy for you to build on.”

  Jim asked abruptly, “When are you leaving?”

  “We have tickets for Monday morning’s train. Goodness!” Augusta jumped up. “I’ve got to get the trim on my black suit replaced. I had Gladys over at Oppenheimer’s lay aside a lovely new lace.”

  “I’ll take the suit over for you, Aunt Augusta,” LisBeth offered.

  Jim grabbed his hat. “I’ll walk you over.” Augusta winked at LisBeth and Jim hastened to add, “Got some things I need to ask you about the homestead. I’d like to make sure you approve of what I’m doing out there. It’s still your place, after all, until I finish paying for it.”

  LisBeth and Jim walked the four blocks to Oppenheimer’s in silence, LisBeth waiting for Jim to share his plans and Jim wondering awkwardly how to say what he needed to say. LisBeth handed over Augusta’s suit. As she and Jim left the store, she ran her hand lovingly over a bolt of turkey red calico that lay on the cutting table.

  “Just in, Mrs. Baird,” Gladys offered. “Can I save you a few yards?”

  “No, thank you, Gladys. But it’s lovely.”

  When they were outside, Jim offered, “I guess black does get old after a while, don’t it?”

  LisBeth nodded. “I feel guilty about wanting to dress fashionably again, but I can’t help it Sometimes I think wearing black just prolongs the agonies of grieving. There are moments when you can almost forget, when the hurting isn’t so obvious. Then I reach for something and see all this black, and I remember.” LisBeth sighed and looked back up the street toward Oppenheimer’s. “It was lovely cloth.” She brightened. “But then, there will be plenty of years in the future for the latest colors. Augusta wears black by choice. Perhaps I should follow suit and just pretend I’m wearing black because I think it’s fashionable.”

  Jim chuckled. “It’s good to hear you try to find a positive way to handle the things you don’t like.”

  “I’m learning.”

  The two were near the livery before Jim spoke again. “Have you seen the new mare Joseph brought in from the homestead?”

  “No. Is it the sorrel one you swore was worthless?”

  Jim nodded his head. “Yep. And I was wrong. Joseph was right. She’s going to look real stylish pulling the old carriage.”

  “We’re almost back, Jim. What did you want to ask me about the homestead?”

  Jim cleared his throat and began awkwardly. “Well, LisBeth. It’s—” Impulsively he grabbed LisBeth’s hand and pulled her into the livery. “It’s personal,” he blurted out. “I don’t want anybody to hear it.”

  LisBeth sat on a hay bale inside the livery door and watched as Jim paced back and forth. Several times he stopped in front of her and opened his mouth. Then, he clamped it shut and paced again.

  “For heaven’s sake, Jim. What’s the matter? Surely you know that I’m not going to object to anything you want to do out at the homestead.”

  “It’s not what I want to do at the homestead, LisBeth.” He sat down next to her and lowered his voice. “It’s who I want to do it with .”

  LisBeth looked at him blankly.

  “Will you pray with me?”

  More confused than ever, LisBeth nodded.

  Jim prayed and LisBeth tried to listen carefully, but her mind wandered as she tried to imagine why he was so upset. In the midst of her wondering, she realized that Jim had stopped talking.

  “LisBeth, did you hear me? I’m . . . I’m asking you to be my wife.”

  He was looking at her intensely, his gray-green eyes smoldering with feeling.

  “What? I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t . . . hear you.�
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  “Well, you’re going off to Philadelphia, and I’m worried about what might happen there. I know you said you’re going mostly because you’re fond of Abigail and to see Sarah and Tom. But David Braddock’s got his own ideas of what’s going to happen at Christmas, LisBeth. I didn’t want to say anything until I had the homestead free and clear,” he jumped up and began pacing again, “but if I don’t say something now, I’m going to lose you for sure. Not that I have you, still, if you don’t know how I feel—”

  LisBeth was staring up at Jim incredulously. “I had no idea.”

  He sat down beside her again. “LisBeth, I told you on the way to Santee that when I shared my past with you, you’d own a part of me that no other woman did. I don’t mean to press myself on you.” He laughed nervously. “I guess this is a pretty unromantic way to do this, after all . . . LisBeth, I love you. I’ll never be rich, like David Braddock. I’ll never be the kind of man that people in town look to for advice.” Finally, Jim drew the courage to look at her. “Everything I’ve done out at the homestead—it’s been for you. It won’t ever be fancy, but it could be home. We could raise a family—and serve God there—together.” He took a deep breath. “I want to hold you when you cry, and make you forget all the terrible things that have happened to you. I want to be the one you talk to when you’re angry with God, and I want to be there to laugh with you. I want to pray with you. I want to hold your babies and know they’re mine. I want to hear my children call you Mama, and I want to be there when the children are grown and your hair turns gray.” Jim stopped again, realizing he had blurted out much more than he had intended. He finished gently. “You don’t have to say a thing now. I won’t bring it up again. I just knew if I didn’t say something before you went that maybe I’d lose you because I was too much of a coward.”

  LisBeth looked at him with wonder. “You just proposed to me, yet you expect I’ll be going to Philadelphia?”