Bride from Shenandoah (Brides of the West Series Book Eleven)

by Rita Hestand

  "You know I never knew what fried cakes were until I got on this train. It's a real education." Millie chuckled. "And they are quite good."

  "It's no steak and taters, but it'll do, I guess."

  "Sounds good enough for me," Millie smiled.

  "Where abouts are you leaving us?"

  Always it was there. That reminder of what she had set out to do. Had she been wrong? Did she need to change course?

  "A place called Independence Rock. He lives about fifty miles north of that." She remarked.

  "Still aimin' to go, are you?" Wilma scrunched up her nose.

  "I don't know Wilma. All I know is, I'd really hate leaving you. You've been so kind. You don't often meet people that you feel so attached to…."

  "And not just me either, I'd bet. I been thinking on that too. I don't want you to leave our train. I feel this is an important trip in your life. I've done my best to convince you that you are wrong and you won't listen so I guess that's how it will be." Wilma sighed. "And I won't say no more about Joe either. Except that you are sure passin' up a fine man, Millie." Her hooded glance spoke more loudly than a frown.

  "I know that Wilma. I agree." Millie sighed heavily. "I guess I know that better than anyone." And the wistfulness of her voice echoed against the prairie, as loneliness crept over her. She shivered.

  Millie hardly saw Joe for the next couple of days he was busy scouting now, they were moving into heavier Indian territory and he had to make sure they weren't planning any surprises. The Lakota were not known for tolerating wagon trains through their lands, especially since the gold miners pushed their way through with little regard for the land or people. It wasn't the settlers that bothered them so much as the men coming in trains to find gold. Still they could not distinguish one from another, so wagon trains were in danger in these parts.

  It was three days out when a young Indian boy wandered into their camp and collapsed.

  Everyone was standoffish, but A.J. gave him water and tried to talk to him.

  Joe was out and about and no one could communicate with the child.

  But no one would take him into their wagon either.

  "We can't just leave him out here, alone." Millie protested. Seeing how weak the child was.

  "We can't take every straggler, Millie." A.J. frowned at her insistence to help the child.

  "We'll take him in our wagon," Millie insisted before she even consulted with Wilma.

  When Wilma frowned on that suggestion Millie was quick to insist she'd be responsible for him. "He's just a child, Wilma. And he needs our help."

  "He's an Indian child. There's a big difference Millie."

  "He can't help that." Millie smiled and took the boy's hand, leading him to the wagon. He sat on the seat between them. Wilma seemed to fume all day long. The boy looked from one to the other.

  "This isn't a good idea, Millie."

  "He won't hurt anything." Millie insisted.

  When Joe returned he heard about Millie and the Indian boy. He ambled over to their wagon that evening to check on things.

  "So I see you have a new traveling companion." Joe searched the boy's face then hers.

  "Yes, can you ask him his name?" Millie asked eagerly.

  "Sure," Joe squatted to his level and looked into the boy's eyes. He spoke some dialogue.

  "His name is Running Sparrow. He's Cheyenne."

  "What was he doing out here alone?" Millie asked Joe.

  Joe asked the boy, then turned to look at her. "He came with an Uncle to hunt and got separated. A mountain lion killed his uncle and he couldn't find his way back to his tribe."

  "Oh the poor thing," Millie cried.

  Wilma glanced at Joe, "Do you think he's telling the truth?"

  Joe looked at the boy's face, "It would seem so. Why would a child lie? Just keep an eye on him, we'll be needing to return him to his people."

  "Can you find them?" Millie looked surprised.

  "I won't have to, they'll find us." Joe assured her.

  "Joe wait…" she called to him as he strode away from her and the boy. When he turned probing eyes upon her, she stretched her hand to his arm. "Is there a danger in keeping him?" Millie asked.

  "At this point no. He's already here, if we don't keep him safe they might decide to attack for putting him in any danger. Just take care of him and watch him. He is Indian and his tribe has taught him not to trust white people. So we don't know what he might try to do. But they will come for him."

  Millie nodded. "I can do that."

  "How'd you get so involved?" He asked out of curiosity.

  "I don't know. He was there. He's just a child. And he needed help."

  A slow smile spread over Joe's features, and he nodded slowly. His finger pulled her chin up, and he stared for a long time.

  She held her breath. "You're quite a woman Millie…" He said huskily.

  But problems began to erupt when a band of Indians was spotted above a ridge that the train traveled under. The people began to get nervous and there was a lot of talk of handing the child over immediately.

  Joe faced the rioting mob of the train, mostly coming from the Mills train people he noticed. His own train never questioned his decisions because A.J. backed Joe all the time.

  "We don't want no Injun here. Give him back, what are you waiting for?" One man protested. "They're gonna charge at us any minute."

  John Mills stood on the edge of the crowd with A.J., his face a mask of anger. "He's got a good point A.J. we give the boy back, they'll go away, won't they?"

  "Joe, what do you say?" A.J. asked glancing at the ground, then up at Joe as though he already knew the answer.

  Joe stepped out in front of everyone, his gaze going about the crowd of angry men and women.

  "They'll come to us for the boy. Once they see that we are not withholding him, or harming him. Then they will leave. If we do anything too sudden, they might not understand our intent. We need to wait. Before they attack with the boy in our camp, they will want to powwow with us." Joe insisted. "When we give him over willingly, they will leave and not bother us, but if we do anything to harm the boy, we'll be in trouble. I can guarantee that."

  "How can we be sure they will ask for the boy?"

  "Wouldn't you? Before you risk the boy's life." Joe asked. "Boys are quite valuable to the Indian as they are the ones to grow up to become warriors. They will not leave him behind."

  "Why we riskin' our lives for one damn injun kid?" Another man asked.

  "Your names is Humphrey's isn't it?"

  "That's right." The man seemed surprised that Joe would remember his name.

  "Well, they haven't attacked us yet, so we are not in danger. The only thing that will endanger us is if anything happens to the child before they get him back." Joe explained.

  "Can't you just take him back?" A woman in the crowd demanded.

  "I could that's true, but it would be much safer to wait until they approach us." Joe told them. "And they will, I can assure you of that. They value their children as much as we do."

  A.J. stepped in again. "Folks Joe here has been our scout for at least five trips. He's dealt with these people before and he knows what he is talking about. I think we should listen and take his advice about this. He knows more about them than we do. And I might add he's been right every time."

  "Yeah…well what if he's wrong this time?" Another man shouted.

  "I know Indians sir, do you?"

  "How come you know them so well?"

  Joe bowed his head and then lifted it proudly, staring out at the people, "Because I'm a breed."

  There was a hush, then all manner of discussion erupted among them.

  A.J. saw the rousing's of fear and distrust growing and wanted to calm the people and re-establish some trust for Joe at the same time. "Who better to know how to handle these kind of people. I have trusted this man more times than I care to count. I'm not stopping now. But if any of you people think you know better, then take
your wagons on, and go on. But I'll stand with this man's vast knowledge of the people hereabouts."

  The people all talked among themselves.

  One man stepped up, "How long they gonna stay up there watching us?"

  Joe knew that A.J. had just backed him up once more and that few didn't trust A.J.

  "Until they are satisfied that we are not gearing up to fight them. Now, I want all of you to listen, because there are a lot of you here. We have to remain calm, and don't be pulling a gun. If they wanted to fight us, we'd probably be dead already." Joe told them. "What we do here may go a long way into establishing some trust with these people and might save lives on down the road. So think about that."

  "But they look as though they are ready to kill us." A woman yelled.

  "We haven't killed their buffalo; we haven't raised a gun against any of them. If we can be patient, they will come for the boy and this will all be settled. And no blood will be shed. If you lose your heads though, we could easily have a massacre on our hands."

  "I can settle this right now," a big burley man stepped forward with a gun to shoot one of the Indians on the ridge. Joe jumped him and knocked him to the ground. A.J. reached for the man's gun as Joe and the man scuffled.

  After Joe beat him down, the man stopped fighting.

  Millie saw the scuffle and walked up to them. The big man was lying with a nose bleed, Joe had a bruised eye.

  She took out her bag and doctored the man's nose, then turned to Joe. She dabbed him with a cool cloth and he winced. "I'm fine!" He frowned and walked off.

  Why was he angry? What had she done now?

  Shaking her head all the way back to the wagon Wilma was perched on the seat with the boy. "What did I do wrong?"

  "You took that boy in, that started it all. Don't you see?" Wilma fretted.

  "Well, Wilma, he's just a boy. And he's certainly done no harm to anyone, nor have they." She glanced up on the ridge.

  "Yeah, and he's related to all of them…" she pointed to the ridge.

  But Joe had been right along about supper time three of the Indians from the ridge came down. They rode slowly toward the train their spears raised to the heavens. When they got close they stopped.

  Joe went out to speak with them. After a few minutes he went to get the boy. Millie felt responsible and insisted on going out with Joe and the boy.

  She stood alongside Joe as the boy was returned to them safely. But when the boy looked back, he ran to Millie and hugged her, looked up at her and smiled, then went back to his people. The Indians said something to Joe then rode off silently.

  "Well, that's the end of that." Joe sighed.

  Millie walked back with him but they said nothing to each other.

  When she turned and smiled at him. "Why did the boy hug me?"

  Joe stared into her somber eyes, "You helped him, and he knew it and was grateful. It was as simple as that."

  With that he stalked away and Millie stood staring after him.

  She returned to Wilma's wagon. "See, everything turned out all right, didn't it?"

  Wilma blew a tendril of hair from her face. "If you hadn't insisted on taking the child in, none of this would have happened. Instead the whole train was in an uproar, Joe had to fight a man and peace had to be restored all because you had to take that boy in."

  "But…Joe was right all along. There was no fight with the Indians. They simply wanted their child back, like any other would."

  Wilma got off the seat and walked off.

  Millie bit her lip, and Wilma got on the back of the wagon to ride a while. Millie was bereft. Now her best friend wouldn't speak to her, and she had no idea what Joe thought about it.

  But a day later A.J. came to talk to Millie. Millie figured he would lecture her about the boy, but his interest was in another problem.

  "I want you to come with me this afternoon, to sort of back me up on what I'm gonna say. It concerns cholera and bad water."

  "I'll be there." Millie agreed surprised he didn't scold her.

  Curiosity got the best of Wilma and she finally joined her on the seat once more. "What was A.J. about this morning?"

  "He wants me to come with him this evening to talk to the people." Millie told her.

  "About what, picking up stray Indians?"

  "No, about the water and cholera."

  Wilma's head jerked up. She didn't say any more but she at least sat with her on the wagon seat all day.

  That afternoon, Joe gathered all the people around, including John Mills the other wagon master.

  John relented most of the responsibility to A.J.

  "Now I got somethin' to say and I want you all to listen to me, and if you do, it just might save some lives. We're traveling by the Platt River, our main water source right now. But a friend of mine back in '49 gave me a secret that has saved many lives since. So listen up. You'll notice along some of the Platt there have been wells dug for clear drinking water, and steps to those wells. All because the Platt is a muddy river. It looks bad. Just means it has to be strained to look good. I ask you not to use those wells."

  The people stirred restlessly. It seemed the Mills wagons were not inclined to go along with everything A.J. suggested. Millie saw the unrest.

  "You mean we can't take our water from the Platte?

  "No, that's not what I'm suggesting. Take the water directly from the moving River. Boil it, each time you take from it. Boil it good, and store that boiled water in anything you can. And we won't have a Cholera epidemic. Naturally, it will take more time, but it is much safer advice than most you'll get. Follow these rules and you'll live to see Oregon, except for accidents, and other sickness. Now the doc here can tell you about Cholera."

  Millie stepped forward, her eyes going around the camp and landing on Joe who was leaning against a tree, staring at her. She swallowed. "A.J. is right. Boiled water purifies it, so it's safe to drink. So do as he asks. Now, I don't know how many are familiar with the disease but you can have an outbreak of it at breakfast and be dead by dinner. That's how fast it can kill. It sends no warning. But it stems from bad water where waste has accumulated in the water. The reason this happens is that there are many trains traveling almost at the same time, so waste is being emptied into the Platt by all the people. This creates Cholera. When your drinking water is too close to waste, it contaminates the water and makes Cholera. Cholera is a killer, don't take it lightly. As you can see, there are a lot of wagon trains through here, that alone is cause enough to worry about the disease, but if we take these precautions we can eliminate the disease from our train. So please adhere to what A.J. tells you as it is for your own protection. Cholera is a disease that dehydrates your body. And diarrhea results. It can kill in a day. That's how powerful it is. So it's very important to follow A.J.'s advice on this. Boil your water folks, you'll live a lot longer."

  All the people seemed to discuss it among themselves.

  "But if the water is clearer in the wells, and cleaner looking why isn't it safer?"

  Millie stepped forward again. "Because it is stagnant more or less, and waste accumulates in stagnate waters. It isn't moving like the river water, so it can't clean itself. When human waste is too close to drinking water, this is what happens." She answered.

  "If you do this, we'll get through to Oregon with less problems. If you don't, you might not get there at all, it's up to you, I suppose." A.J. mumbled at the end. "That's all I got to say."

  "What about our wagon master, Mr. Mills," one man asked. "Why ain't he said nothin' about it?"

  John stepped forward. "I'd suggest you do as A.J. says he's been on this journey a lot more than I. And no one wants to die from Cholera."

  "Friends," A.J. looked quite serious at the crowd of people. "The problem lies with so many of us heading to Oregon at once, as you can see, more camps at night light up the prairie, because of this the water gets polluted with waste as there are no sanitary places for it go. So please, let's boil our water and be
safe."

  There were grumbles, but in the end the women seemed to rise to the occasion. "A.J. is right. It's a little effort for a better cause. We'll boil it and take it off the river." Wilma shouted out and walked off.

  A.J. smiled and pulled Millie aside.

  "Thanks for your support doc. I wish I had you along for every trip." A.J. told her as Wilma walked up to him.

  "I want to apologize to you about the Indian boy…" Millie began.

  A.J. smiled at Mrs. Granger then shook his head. "No need doc, someone had to see to him and there were no volunteers but you. You did good, doc. And thanks again." He walked off with a smile.

  Millie turned to see Wilma's expression of guilt.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Apology accepted." Millie smiled once more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the next two days Millie watched the woman gathering the water and boiling it. They poured it in canteens, in jugs, in barrels everywhere. The women had listened to A.J. and knew he was right. No one seemed to balk but a few of the men, the women didn't have as much time to tend to other things, but it didn't seem to matter to them. They realized how important it was and did the job without a fuss. The men grumbled that other things needed tending, but the women won this argument.

  A.J. checked on most of the people, to make sure they were following his orders. Mr. Mills seemed to give over his authority and his willingness to help.

  Millie was glad A.J. knew about Cholera and prepared the people. So many trains wouldn't and there would be many deaths. She read about it in the paper back in Missouri. In fact, as they rolled along the many markers they saw along the banks of the river were too numerous to count. There were a lot of fresh graves too. She was sure those markers had caught everyone's eye. So the people saw them and were glad they had listened to A.J. and her about the water. Even the Mills train listened and obeyed though they grumbled about it.

  Millie helped Wilma gather water and boil it too. It took nearly a full day's work with many trips back and forth. But by the end of day they had a barrel full of water and all the canteens filled.

  Even the stock was fed boiled water and the men tended those chores.