A Journey of the Heart Collection

by Colleen Coble

  She pulled out an apple and showed it to Sarah. “I found some lovely apples at the sutler’s store. They’re a little wrinkly, but they don’t seem to have any bad spots. Here, smell.” She put a small apple under Sarah’s nose. “They should make delicious apple dumplings.”

  Sarah took the apple slowly and sniffed. A ghost of a smile brightened her face, then she lay back against the cushions on the parlor cot. “You are a dear.” She handed the apple back to Emmie. “I don’t know why I feel so poorly. The winter is just beginning and already the wind is about to drive me mad.”

  Emmie sat beside her and put an arm around her slim shoulders. “God is here with you, though. I have so much peace since I realized that. Now the vastness that used to terrify me when I looked around outside just reminds me how powerful he is.”

  Sarah smiled at her. “You put me to shame sometimes, Emmie. You’re right, of course. At least I’m here with Rand and not stuck back East with my brother. With all the fighting going on, Rand hasn’t been seriously wounded and neither has Jacob. We should count our blessings.”

  Emmie hugged her again. “I think I’ll get started on those apple dumplings. You rest a while.” She stood and went to the kitchen, all of three steps away. She hummed as she took down her apron and wrapped it around her waist. Hmm, it seemed her waist had thickened just since yesterday. She took down a tin of flour and dumped some into a bowl. “What time did Rand say to expect him?”

  “He sent Joel by to tell us he’d be late. That reckless Lieutenant Fetterman has finally talked Colonel Carrington into letting him try an ambush. The colonel asked Rand to go along to keep Fetterman out of trouble. They’re taking some mules as bait, but Joel said Rand thought it was a harebrained scheme. Red Cloud is no fool, but Fetterman is hotheaded and thinks all Indians are stupid and slow.”

  Emmie sighed. Always there was fighting. Every day, every hour, they listened for the crack of rifles in the winter air and the war whoops of the Sioux. There was never a respite. As she mixed the dough and sliced the apples, she and Sarah chatted about everything except the one thing they both listened for. Through the long afternoon and early evening, they waited and talked to fill the time. Only when they heard Rand’s boot heels and Joel’s excited chatter as they came up the front porch did they relax.

  Rand came in, stomping his feet in the entry and reminding Joel to do the same. His face was pale and pinched with the cold. Sarah rushed to help him out of his snow-covered greatcoat. He shrugged it off and dropped onto the cot with a sigh. He held out his hands toward the roaring fire as Sarah sat beside him.

  “I expected you before now,” she said softly.

  “You should have seen it,” Joel put in excitedly. “I was watching from the blockhouse. The Sioux knew it was a trap. They just waited Fetterman out, then slipped behind the fort and stampeded the cattle. Fetterman looked as savage as a meat ax.”

  “Joel!” Sarah spoke sharply.

  He looked sheepish. “Well, that’s what Rooster said.”

  “You’re not to talk disrespectfully of your elders.”

  Her brother scuffed a toe on the floor. “He sure was mad, though. He told the colonel he wanted to go out after them right then and there, but the colonel wouldn’t let him. He stomped off with Lieutenant Grummond. They were both grumbling.”

  Emmie broke in hurriedly. “Your supper’s ready.” She didn’t want to hear about any more battles. She watched as Sarah put a hand on Rand’s arm, then hurried to fix him a plate of thick stew and warm slices of bread with butter. She fixed a smaller plate for Joel.

  “Joel’s right,” Rand said after a few bites of supper. “Fetterman is spoiling for a fight with the Sioux. He’s going to wind up with his hair lifted if he isn’t careful. He’s rash, and I’m afraid he’ll drag Lieutenant Grummond into a losing battle with him. Neither one of them have any respect for the way an Indian can fight. They haven’t been out here long enough to have a little sense knocked into them.”

  Emmie shuddered. She’d seen Lieutenant Fetterman around. He usually had a group of starry-eyed soldiers around listening to stories of his exploits in the War Between the States. His bragging and posturing repelled her and filled her with a strange foreboding.

  SEVEN

  Isaac stamped his cold feet outside the Campbell house and hit his fist on the door. His greatcoat did little to stop the icy wind from chilling him through and through.

  The door opened, and he looked down into Emmie’s face. Her eyes widened when she saw him. Was that a flicker of fear in her eyes? Why would she ever be fearful of him?

  The snow swirled around him like a thick, wet fog that skated onto the kitchen floor. She stepped out of the way. “Come in.”

  He pushed past her and she shut the door. He looked around the kitchen and fastened his gaze on Sarah sitting at the table. “We’ve got a visitor. I told her to come in with me, but she insisted I come and ask permission.”

  Sarah looked up at him anxiously. “Is Amelia all right?”

  Isaac grinned, imagining her response once she knew. “It’s got nothing to do with her. This is a visitor the Lord has blown our way. I think you’ll be right happy to see her.”

  Sarah gave him a fierce look, and he laughed. “I think it should be a surprise in spite of what she says.” He turned and opened the door again. “Come on in.”

  A figure covered in a thick buffalo hide slowly stepped through the doorway. His chest squeezed now that he could see her in better light. Snow coated her thick black braids, and she looked pale and emaciated.

  Morning Song had been one of Sarah’s Sioux students at Fort Laramie until she left with her band to join Red Cloud. Most of them had thought they’d never see her again, especially after Ben Croftner mistreated her.

  Morning Song stared straight at Sarah, then smiled. “My Sarah, do you not know me?”

  Sarah gasped and jumped to her feet. “Morning Song!” She ran toward the young woman with her arms outstretched. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” She put her arms around the young woman and hugged her.

  Morning Song returned the hug, then stepped back. She shrugged off the buffalo robe and revealed a baby snuggled against her breast in an Indian carrier of some sort. The child, a boy, slept peacefully with his thumb corked in his mouth.

  “Oh, Morning Song, you have a baby!” Sarah held out her hands. “May I?”

  The Indian girl nodded and gently lifted her child out of the carrier and put him into Sarah’s outstretched arms. Sarah cradled him and crooned to him. Isaac stared too. The baby was obviously Ben’s.

  Morning Song had once been so beautiful. Now her hair was dull and lifeless from hunger and deprivation, and the sparkle was gone from her large dark eyes.

  Joel jumped up from the table. “Morning Song, is Red Hawk with you? Can I see him?”

  Morning Song’s face sobered and she shook her head. “I come alone, little warrior.” She touched Joel’s shoulder.

  Isaac noticed Emmie standing off with her hands clenched together. This would affect her, too, though she didn’t know it yet. He moved over to stand beside her so he could speak without being overheard. “Morning Song was one of Sarah’s first students back at Fort Laramie when she taught reading and writing to the Indian youngsters.”

  How did he explain such a delicate situation? He glanced at Morning Song and Sarah. They were talking so they wouldn’t hear this. “Um, your brother Ben was, uh, married. Well, not really married.” He broke off in embarrassment, then plunged ahead. “Anyway, Emmie, that baby is your nephew. Ben had mistreated her, and Sarah got her away from him. She disappeared shortly after that and we haven’t seen her since. She came in a little whi
le ago with some friendly Shoshone.”

  Emmie looked across the room at the sleeping child. “My nephew, Ben’s child? Did he know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Does she know who I am?”

  “I didn’t tell her. To tell you the truth, I’d almost forgotten Ben was your brother. You’re very different. You want to meet her?”

  Her gaze lingered on Sarah holding the baby, and he saw hunger in Emmie’s face. She probably felt as though she had no family.

  She nodded. “Could I?”

  He touched her arm and guided her closer. This was the nearest he’d been to the baby himself. The little one did have a certain look of her brother. His eyes were the same smoky gray. His hair was darker than Ben’s blond hair but not the raven of Morning Song’s.

  Sarah looked up and saw her standing there. Dawning comprehension filled her face. After a glance at her Indian friend, she gently placed the child into Emmie’s arms. “What is his name, Morning Song?”

  “I call him John. I learned about John in the Holy Book when I went to the mission school. About how he taught others to love God. So I named him John Randall. My people, my father, they call him Gray Buffalo.”

  Rand jerked his head up, then a delighted grin stole over his face. “You named him after me?”

  Morning Song nodded. “You and Sarah are my friends. I want for John to be a fine man like you. Not like—” She broke off and took a deep breath.

  Isaac heard Emmie’s intake of breath, and he wished he could embrace her. Her brother was despicable.

  Emmie cradled the baby, then took a step closer to Morning Song. “I am your sister. Ben was my brother.”

  Morning Song flinched back as though Emmie had struck her. She stared at Isaac. “You have her here? Sister of my enemy?”

  She whirled as though to flee before she remembered Emmie still held her child. She snatched her son from Emmie’s arms, then realized Emmie was crying. She searched Emmie’s eyes as if probing secrets from her soul.

  The tension eased out of her shoulders, and she gently handed young John back to Emmie. “You are my sister. Ben hurt you too.”

  Her eyes wide, Emmie accepted the child again. The baby had awakened from all the fuss and played with strands of her dark hair that had escaped their confinement. She hugged him gently, then gave him back to Morning Song. “You have a beautiful son.”

  Morning Song smiled and murmured to the baby as she eased him back into the carrier. “Ben is here?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Oh no, Morning Song. He’s—” She broke off and glanced at Emmie.

  Emmie finished Sarah’s sentence for her. “He’s dead. Killed in an attack by Sioux.”

  Morning Song’s forehead wrinkled. “When did this happen?”

  “Shortly after you left Fort Laramie. He was killed in a fall from a horse, Labe said.”

  Morning Song shook her head. “Then it is not Ben. My brother, Red Hawk, saw him near the mountain where the white men took the yellow rock not many moons ago.”

  Rand glanced at Isaac, then back at Morning Song. “You mean the gold mines in Montana?”

  Morning Song nodded. “My brother wanted to kill him, but too many white men were around with guns.”

  Isaac inhaled and his gaze went to Emmie standing rigidly by the fire. Her violet eyes were wide, and she put her hand to her chest. Her mouth trembled. Was she happy Ben was alive or distressed?

  The only sound was the crackle from the fire. Emmie cleared her throat. “But he left Labe behind. Why would he do that?”

  Morning Song shrugged. “I do not know. Perhaps he felt Labe was never fully with him and his schemes. I know your brother Labe felt sorry for the way Ben treated me.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Rand said finally. “All this time we were sure he was dead. Do you know if Labe found him in the goldfields?”

  “I not know. Red Hawk only saw Ben.”

  Sarah put her arm around Morning Song. “There’s so much to tell you. Come over by the fire and rest. You’ll stay here with us, of course.”

  Morning Song wilted and she gasped. “It is more than I hoped for. I just wished to see you again. I will go back to the camp.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Rand put in firmly. “You need to rest and get your strength back. We can make up a bed for you in the kitchen near the stove.”

  “She can have my place here in the parlor,” Joel said. “I can stay with Jacob and Amelia.”

  “Good idea,” Sarah said. “Is Red Hawk with you, Morning Song? He can stay with Joel.”

  The young woman bowed her head. “He and my father are with Red Cloud. I could not stay when I knew they would soon fight against my friends.”

  Isaac’s gut tightened. Red Cloud was preparing for war, massing tribes from all over the Sioux nation. The confrontation was coming soon. Isaac wasn’t sure how many of them would survive it.

  EIGHT

  The dawn brought a blizzard with it as snow joined the howling wind of the night before. The swirling snow blotted out the sun and blew through the cracks in the house. Emmie shivered as she lit her lamp and quickly washed with her flannel and dressed in the blue wool. As she pulled her curtain back, she could hear Morning Song crooning to baby John. She was eager to see both Morning Song and the baby again.

  Morning Song looked up from her seat by the kitchen stove as Emmie hurried toward her. “You are up early. Sarah still sleeping.”

  Emmie poured hot water into the teapot. “Has Rand left?”

  Morning Song nodded as she went to lay the baby down on the mat. She covered him with the edge of the buffalo robe and rejoined Emmie. “He was up most the night. Not used to warm house.”

  Emmie tried to imagine living out on the plains in a tepee and shivered. She poured herself and Morning Song a cup of tea.

  Morning Song smiled as she spooned sugar into her tea and picked up her cup gently. “It has been many moons since I had tea.” She sighed and took a sip. “Many changes have come.”

  Emmie clasped her hands together. “I–I want to tell you how sorry I am about what Ben did to you. He was always . . . difficult. A–And I know about betrayal and how it hurts.”

  Morning Song nodded. “I see this in your face. You are not your brother. We will be friends.”

  Sarah opened the bedroom door and stepped into the room. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “I had to get up and make sure last night wasn’t a dream. Rand and I talked about it after we went to bed, and we want you and John to stay with us, Morning Song. You can’t go back to the Sioux. They didn’t treat the baby or you very well. We love you and want you to become part of our family.”

  Morning Song swallowed hard as she fought tears. Her chin sank to her chest. “I do not wish to be burden for my friends. The Shoshone chief says I can stay at his encampment. But I wish to leave my son with you. My baby deserves to be accepted by whites.”

  Sarah nodded vigorously. “But we won’t keep him without you. You must stay also. Rand has already gone to ask the commander for permission. He’s sure the commander will allow it. He is a very compassionate man.”

  Morning Song lost her battle against the tears and they slid down her cheeks. “I must help you if I stay. John is very good baby. We will try not to disturb my friends.”

  Sarah smiled. “There will be plenty of crying in a few months anyway. My baby will be born in two months, and Emmie’s baby should arrive in May.”

  Morning Song looked at Emmie. “You do not stay in this house all the time? You have husband here?”

&nb
sp; Emmie shook her head slowly. “No husband. Like you, I was not really married, although I thought I was. I am staying here with my friends, just like you.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted across Morning Song’s face. “Rand will act like he eat locoweed after all the babies come.”

  Three crying babies all close to the same age. The thought made Emmie chuckle. They’d all want to eat locoweed.

  The snow had finally stopped, so the women donned warm cloaks and bonnets, bundled the baby up, and hurried across the parade ground to show Amelia Morning Song’s son. The house was dark when they let themselves in. The fire was almost out.

  Emmie went to throw more logs on it. “Sarah, maybe you’d better check on Amelia.”

  Sarah nodded and hurried to the bedroom. “Amelia?” She turned in the doorway and motioned to Emmie. “The baby’s coming!”

  Emmie’s pulse kicked. She rushed to the bedroom with Morning Song close behind her. A slick sheen of sweat coated Amelia’s face and she moaned softly. She was so pale, and Emmie felt a stab of pure terror.

  She stepped to the bed and took Amelia’s hand. “Your baby will be here soon. You’re going to be a mama today.”

  “Jacob went for Dr. Horton.” Amelia moaned again and clung tightly to Emmie’s hand. Her eyes opened, and she stared into Emmie’s face. “Remember your promise.”

  Emmie touched her brow, burning hot. “I won’t have to remember it. You’re going to be fine.” But a coldness settled in her belly at the look of Amelia’s skin.

  Her friend’s eyes closed, and she released Emmie’s hand. Emmie looked at Sarah’s pale face and knew she was in no shape to take charge. “Morning Song, would you go find me some rags and boil some water? And find someone to fetch Jacob. Her labor must have come on suddenly after he left.”

  The door banged and Jacob rushed in with Dr. Horton close behind. “Thank the Lord you’re here. I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I had to get the doctor. I kept hoping someone would stop by, but no one was out with the weather so nasty.”