Esther

by Jim Cox

  “I’m on my way,” Red agreed as he stood to leave, but Esther pulled him back again.

  “We’ll send someone else, you’re not up to it, Red. Your arm needs to be tended.”

  “I’ll go,” Bill offered eagerly, who’d been listening to the conversation and aching to do something. Within minutes his galloping horse was heard leaving the ranch.

  Esther treated and applied fresh bandages to Red’s arm, Joan removed the splinters from the young wrangler’s face, and Shining Star kept coffee poured. There was talk of digging a grave and burying the young man whose body lay in the barn, but it was decided to wait under the circumstances. Esther spent a great deal of time consoling Mrs. Winslow and checking on her husband. His pulse was extremely weak, and sometimes couldn’t be felt at all, but the shallow rise and fall of his chest indicated life. From time to time, Esther would end her examination by holding Mrs. Winslow’s hand and saying a prayer. The afternoon drug slowly by as the Crooked Rail folks waited anxiously for the doctor.

  As the day was giving way to darkness, Shining Star lit the oil lamp in the front room where Mr. Winslow lay and then went to light one in the kitchen. When she entered, Joan was preparing coffee for her mother and Mrs. Winslow.

  “I’ve brought you some coffee, Mrs. Winslow; it might help,” Esther said as she entered the front room. Mrs. Winslow looked up with tear filled eyes and said, “I think he’s gone, Esther.”

  Esther immediately set the cup on a sideboard and kneeled down to examine Mr. Winslow. She couldn’t find a pulse or feel the rise and fall of the rancher’s breath, so she turned to Mrs. Winslow and said, “I’m sorry, but he’s not breathing.” Then Esther pulled the bereaved woman to her shoulder and held her tightly as they cried.

  Finally, Mrs. Winslow pulled away and through sobs said, “We’ve been together for thirty-one years, Esther. I don’t know what I’ll do without him; he’s always been the strong one in our marriage—the one I counted on. What’s to happen with the ranch?”

  Esther interrupted Mrs. Winslow so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed with thoughts about what lay ahead, “I know it’s hard Mrs. Winslow, but now is not the time to think about what the future holds, there’ll be plenty of time for that. You’re a strong pioneer woman who has faced a lot of struggles in your lifetime. It’ll take time, but you’ll put your life back together.” Esther reached for her hand, “Right now you need to come with me to the kitchen where you can eat something…you haven’t had a bite since breakfast.” While the women were in the kitchen, the others carried Mr. Winslow’s body to the barn to join the body of the young fallen wrangler and covered him with a blanket.

  By the time they returned, Shining Star had a modest meal of fried salt pork, hominy, and cornbread waiting on the table. The four women, including Shining Star, Red, and two young wranglers took seats around the table. The food was passed and eaten; Mrs. Winslow ate almost nothing. Words were scarce as minds stayed focused on the terrible events that had taken place. They were on their second cup of coffee when they heard horses approaching. “That sounds like a lot of horses to me,” Joan said. “I hope the Indians aren’t back.”

  “Those horses are wearing shoes, Joan—Indian horses go barefooted,” Red said. “I’ll go out and help ʼem get situated.” He’d taken a step or two when he turned back. “Shining Star, if I was you I’d cook up some more vittles. Those men are likely to be hungry.”

  Red was surprised to find seven Union soldiers had accompanied the doctor to the ranch. He gave his welcome and then thanked the doctor for making the trip for naught. That Mr. Winslow had died. After a conversation about his death, Red took them and their horses to the barn where they watered and fed their horses. Afterward, Red took them to the bunkhouse where they left their gear before returning to the house.

  The newcomers entered the kitchen, and after introductions, they were seated. Heaping platters and bowls centered the table. After the food had been passed twice, the soldiers’ empty plates were pushed back, and they sat with their coffee. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, Mrs. Winslow,” Dr. Hill said rather spontaneously. “I might have saved your husband’s life, but I doubt it. He incurred a terrible wound.” She responded with a nod and a forced smile.

  “May I ask you something, Dr. Hill?” Esther asked. He nodded. “Why did you come all the way out here to a southern household, when you’re a Union doctor?”

  “I took an oath when I received my Doctor’s Certificate to do my utmost to help people with injuries or sickness no matter what their nationality, color, beliefs, or any other characteristic. I swore to do no harm, and from there I try to do my best for all my fellow human beings.”

  His thorough answer surprised Esther, and when she had fully digested what the doctor had said, she responded, “Thank you, Doctor. May I ask you another question?” He nodded. “You look young to be a medical doctor. Have you had formal training?”

  “You’re not the first to ask that question, Mrs. Taylor,” he answered with a smile. “I’ll be twenty-one on my next birthday, and I have completed both sixteen-week courses at Rush Medical College in Chicago to receive my Doctor’s Certificate—I finished the courses a year ago.”

  “You should be proud to be a doctor already at such a young age,” Esther said.

  The doctor responded with a thank you and then said, “The bandages on Red’s arm and the one on Mr. Winslow’s chest were well done. Are you the person responsible for the wrappings?”

  “Yes, I tended to their injuries.”

  “You did a professional job, ma’am—I couldn’t have done better, myself.” Esther gave a thankful nod and then she and the other women began to gather the dirty dishes from the table.

  One of the men in blue spoke up, “We’ve been ordered by our camp commander to bring you folks and your personal belongings to Fort Gibson. Can you be ready to leave by mid-morning?”

  “Why, do you think the Indians will be coming back?” Joan blurted out. “I thought they were under the Union’s control? Do you know why they attacked us?”

  “Not the ones who attacked you today. They must be renegade Indians who are still fighting back at the white man for driving them out of their land east of the Mississippi River into the Oklahoma Territory. That move took place several years ago, but the Indians around here still refer to it as the Trail of Tears because of the number of their people that died along the way; there are some who will always want revenge for those who were lost.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The Fort Gibson stockade had changed considerably. Now an American Flag with thirty-four stars flew in the center of the grounds and a watchman was posted in a tower at each corner of the fort. When Esther and Joan had last been there, a tribe of peaceful Indians had been more or less in control of the stockade. White folks intermingled with them and even established living quarters in a few of the barracks alongside the natives. But now, a battalion of Union soldiers occupied the fort with minimal contact to the outside civilian world unless army or Indian conflicts were involved. After giving the post sergeant a full account of the Indian attack they’d experienced at the ranch, the Crooked Rail crew separated from their escort and headed for town.

  The quiet, docile town Esther and Joan remembered was now bursting at the seams with all sorts of nationalities. Whites, Negros, Indians, and a few Chinese—people were bustling about everywhere. The hitching rails were full of horses who stood in filthy mud giving a putrid odor.

  “Esther.” Mrs. Steinbeck said excitedly as she swung the boarding house door open. “I’ve been wondering how you were getting along…please come in.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Steinbeck. It’s good to see you; but right now, I’m in a hurry and need your help.”

  “What is it, Esther? How can I help you?”

  “I have seven people from the Crooked Rail in buggies at your hitching rail. The ranch was attacked by Indians yesterday, and Mr. Winslow was killed along with one of our young wranglers. We ha
d sent for the fort doctor, but he and seven Union soldiers who accompanied him arrived after Mr. Winslow had died. The soldiers informed us renegade Indians were on the loose, attacking, and burning homesteads, so we were ordered to come back to Fort Gibson with them. We need rooms, Mrs. Steinbeck. Do you have any?”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Esther. There have been a lot of Indian attacks around the area lately; that’s why the town is so crowded. Many people have moved off of their places and have come here for protection.” She paused as she considered Esther’s request. “I only have two rooms open, Esther, but call your folks in. We’ll think of something.”

  The first night, the four women occupied the rooms. Esther and Joan in one, and Mrs. Winslow and Shining Star in the other. The four men bunked in the barn.

  The following morning a blend of bacon frying and coffee steaming woke Esther as the eastern sky was starting to brighten. “Good morning, Mrs. Steinbeck,” Esther said minutes later as she walked into the kitchen. “Am I the first person to join you?”

  “You’re the first, Esther, and if it’s like previous mornings, it’ll be another thirty minutes before anyone else shows unless Mrs. Winslow or Shining Star joins us. I’ll pour us a cup of coffee; I’m sure we have time for one before I get busy.”

  The women were sitting together in the quiet of the morning when Mrs. Steinbeck reached across the table for Esther’s hand and said, “I wish you’d call me Virginia. I consider you to be a friend and referring to me as Mrs. Steinbeck is too formal.” Esther accepted her friend’s request with a smile and nod as Virginia continued, “Have you heard from Doyle, Esther?”

  “When he left, I asked him to check on Mark’s whereabouts and let me know what he found out. I received a letter from him a couple of weeks later. He said the only thing he had learned concerning Mark was he had returned from his foreign travel and had joined the Confederate army. Doyle was catching a riverboat to St. Louis that afternoon. That was four months ago, and I haven’t heard anything since. He said he’d write whenever mail service was available.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem, Esther; maybe there’s no mail service where he’s located.” Esther was about to make another comment when she paused with a lowered head.

  “What is it, Esther?” Virginia asked.

  Esther looked up with watery eyes. “The last newspaper we received at the ranch had a story about a Mississippi riverboat that had exploded, killing all people aboard. Doyle was going to be serving as a riverboat captain for the Union.”

  “And you think Doyle was one of those people killed. Is that right, Esther?” Virginia asked.

  “I suppose so; I can’t think of another reason why he hasn’t written.”

  “Esther, there’s no reason to keep yourself all worked up with all that’s been going on. If I was you, I’d go talk with Major Engle. He’s the commanding officer at the fort. He may know of Doyle’s whereabouts or could find out something. After all, Doyle was a Union officer with an important assignment and was probably well known.” Esther’s eyes brightened.

  »»•««

  Later in the day, Esther found herself back at Fort Gibson. “I’d like to speak with Major Engle; I have some important business to discuss with him,” Esther requested of a soldier at the fort’s gate. He nodded and escorted her across the grounds to a desk corporal in the major’s headquarters.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” he asked. Esther restated her request. “I’m sorry, but the Major’s schedule is full today,” he responded barely looking up. “If you’d like, I can set up an appointment; I believe he’d have time for you later in the week. Is that suitable?”

  “No, it isn’t,” Esther replied. “I’m sure the major can find a few minutes for me today. Please tell him I’m waiting.” The desk corporal was shocked at Esther’s firm reply and looked up to meet her piercing eyes. Then he rose to deliver her message, and Esther took a chair across the room. She’d no sooner sat down when the major’s door opened, and Dr. Hill stepped out.

  “Esther, what are you doing here?” Esther rose, extended her hand, and then explained her search for Doyle’s whereabouts, thinking the major may know something. Then she returned the question to him.

  “And why are you here, Dr. Hill?”

  “I was going over my supplies requisition with the major when the corporal came in and mentioned your name. I excused myself and came right out.”

  “Thank you, Doctor—I’m glad to see you again. I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you properly for coming to the Crooked Rail; it was very considerate—you being a Union officer coming to the aid of a Confederate rancher.”

  He nodded with a smile and then said, “Follow me, Esther, and I’ll introduce you to the major.”

  As Esther repeated her inquiry about Doyle to Major Engle, he called to the desk corporal for more coffee. As coffee was being poured, the major turned to Esther and said, “You say the man you’re asking about is a Union captain by the name of Doyle Owens and he pilots a steamboat on the Mississippi River hauling our troops and supplies?”

  “Yes, sir,” Esther answered. “We plan to be married when he returns from the war.”

  “I’ll have an inquiry sent out asking for his whereabouts, Mrs. Taylor. My message will reach the Union’s river ports through the mid-west. Hopefully, I’ll hear something within a couple of weeks.” The major paused and with a smile said, “Maybe even sooner; I’ll send it out over the wire.”

  When Esther left the major’s office, Dr. Hill was waiting for her in the outer office. “I’m sorry I interrupted your meeting with the major, Dr. Hill,” Esther said with an apologetic tone.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Taylor. The major and I had finished with our business.”

  “Then why are you waiting?” she asked.

  The doctor’s face became a mite red as he lowered his head, “I was waiting to talk with you, ma’am.” Esther waited for him to say something more, but he just stood there.

  “What is it, Dr. Hill? What did you want to speak to me about?”

  He cleared his throat, met her gaze and asked, “I was wondering, Mrs. Taylor, if it would be all right with you if I came calling on your daughter?”

  Esther smiled, and after a long pause asked, “I take it you’re not married. Do you have a young lady back home waiting for you?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve never even courted a girl. I’ve been so busy getting my education and then with the war, I didn’t have time for courting.”

  “Don’t you think you should talk with Joan about this? She’ll soon be seventeen and old enough to make her own decisions.” Dr. Hill was quiet and didn’t answer Esther’s question. Finally, Esther asked, “Do you think she has an interest in you, Dr. Hill?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am; that’s what has me worried.”

  “May I ask why you have an interest in my daughter, Dr. Hill?”

  He thought on the matter and then said, “I’m not rightly sure, Mrs. Taylor.” Esther waited him out for a better answer.

  The young man stood thinking, then he straightened his shoulders, his eyes brightened, and he grinned from ear-to-ear. “She sure is pretty, ma’am…about the prettiest young woman I’ve ever seen.”

  Esther’s heart quickened a bit, and a laugh rose inside her, but she was able to keep a serious face as she said, “If I was you Dr. Hill, I’d be talking with my daughter before another day passes.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Esther and Joan had remained at the boarding house, earning part of their keep by helping Mrs. Steinbeck with house chores. Mrs. Winslow, Shining Star, and Bill had taken up residence in an abandoned house a short distance south of town they had fixed up a bit with hopes they’d be returning to the ranch in the near future. Red and the two young wranglers came up missing one morning. Bill suggested they probably left to join up with the Confederate army.

  Days passed, and summer turned to fall. The killings and ranch burnings by renegade Indians were quieted
by the stockade’s military. However, the town was still growing with people seeking protection. Food and supplies were scarce from the outside which caused town folks to improvise. Buffalo meat was readily available, and nearly every household raised a large garden and put up a winter’s supply of canned fruits and vegetables. The army commander turned a blind eye when some of the post’s food staples, such as salt, sugar, and lamp oil along with medical supplies found their way to town. New homes were built, and businesses sprung up to meet the needs of the growing town. A hotel with a dining room, another saloon, a second livery stable, a church building , and two more cafes were added. Food items were supplied to the new establishments by game hunters and families with large gardens.

  Dr. Hill visited Joan at least three times a week. They always spent Sunday together, starting with church and after church eating a meal at the hotel’s dining room. They often took buggy rides alongside the stream running through town from the mountain.

  One day Dr. Hill and Joan said their goodbyes as they left the boarding house for one of their buggy rides, while Esther and Virginia were taking a work break and enjoying their mid-afternoon coffee and pie. “Joan sure is spending a lot of time with Dr. Hill. There’s town gossip about them getting married. Does it concern you, Esther?”

  “Not at all; Dan is a nice young man—Joan couldn’t find a better man to court.”

  Virginia smiled at Esther. “I agree with you, Esther, but are you worried when the war’s over that he’ll probably be leaving? It might be better if she courted a local boy you can count on staying around?”

  “I believe matters are getting serious between them, which pleases me,” Esther said smiling. “And if they do marry, I’ve accepted they’ll probably be moving away from the area.”

  Esther was refilling their cups when Virginia brought up another subject, “Have you heard anything from the fort concerning Doyle’s whereabouts?”