Chase the Wind

by Cindy Holby - Wind 01 - Chase the Wind

  The next morning she was awake for the first time in their marriage before he was. She carefully slid out of his arms and lost the contents of her stomach behind a tree.

  “Poor child,” she heard behind her when the spasms had stopped. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and felt a comforting hand on her back. It was one of the women from the group; she was around ten years older than Faith and was traveling with a husband and two almost grown sons. “It’s hard at first, but you’ll soon get used to it.”

  “What. . . what are you talking about?” Faith asked. Her mouth felt like the inside of a horse’s hoof, and she was having trouble making polite conversation.

  “Having a baby, of course. It always starts out this way.”

  Faith dropped to the ground and put her head on her knees. She began mentally counting in her head. They had been together close to a month, and she had last had her time a week before Ian had found her. She must have conceived right at the beginning of their marriage. She was going to have a baby. The woman was still hovering over her.

  “Didn’t you know?” she asked.

  “I didn’t even think about it,” Faith admitted. “There were too many other things going on.”

  The woman snared an understanding look with Faith. “It was like that with me and my first son, and here he is near grown, practically a man himself, and I wasn’t much more than fifteen when I had him. Got with him right off, probably our first night together.”

  Faith just blinked at the woman’s ramblings.

  “Where is your mother?” the woman asked her.

  “Dead a long time,” Faith replied.

  “Poor child, let me give you some advice.” Faith leaned against the tree while the woman shared her experiences with her. Some of what she said seemed to make sense, some of it Faith decided didn’t need repeating or remembering. She began to feel better after she had sat for a while and decided that, like the morning before, a biscuit might do her some good. She thanked the woman for her kindness and went back to where Ian was packing up their camp. He flashed his grin at her and handed her the remainder of the biscuit from the previous morning. He had wrapped it and stuck it in his pocket when she was done with it. Faith looked at him in amazement.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “Oh, come on now, Faith, it had to happen sooner or later. There’s a purpose to what we’ve been doing besides pleasure.” He took her in his arms. “Getting sick two mornings in a row is a sure sign. The stable master back in Richmond had seven children. I don’t think I’d know his wife unless I saw her losing her dinner over the fence.”

  Faith playfully attempted to punch the iron chest in front of her. “Don’t you think this will make things harder on us now, trying to start a place, with me having a baby?”

  Ian kissed the top of her head. “It will just make things more wonderful. We’ll have a baby in the spring, and hopefully foals running around soon after that. It sounds like paradise to me.”

  “Let’s just hope it’s a boy, because from the way you talk about our place, you’re going to need lots of help.”

  “It makes no matter to me,” he cheerfully replied. “And it’s too late to change it now, whatever it is.”

  Faith took a nibble out of the biscuit and decided she could stand this condition for now. Pregnancy had always seemed like something a long way off, but since it had happened, it would be wonderful. She changed her mind, however, the next morning when she crawled away from their bed and was sick again. Ian took care of her with his usual good patience. Faith just looked at him from under her half-closed eyes and wondered why he got to have all the fun.

  They continued on the trail to Independence, making camp close to other travelers, Faith being sick in the mornings, Ian caring for her until her good humor was restored. They turned north at Independence and traveled to St. Joseph. Ian was worried about Faith by now; she had huge circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken in. He took her to a doctor as soon as they reached St. Jo. The man pronounced her healthy but in serious need of rest. He directed them to a boardinghouse, where the landlady promptly decided that they both needed fattening up.

  “I should have known that you’d find a cook who would fall madly in love with you even all the way out here,” Faith said as Ian pulled the covers over her weary body.

  “I guess I just look like I need mothering,” Ian replied with a grin.

  Faith looked up at him. His cheeks had gotten a bit gaunt also, and he was badly in need of a haircut. The hair that used to flop in his eyes was now touching his nose. She reached up and smoothed it back.

  “I’m going to do a bit of exploring while you rest. We can stay here for a bit and get the lay of the land,” he said.

  Faith yawned in agreement. They were close now, Iowa territory was right ahead of them, and they would soon have a home. Ian took her wooden box out of her bag and placed it on the table by the bed. She was asleep before he left the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Ian left Faith to sleep and went directly to the livery stable. After arranging for the care of the horses, he wandered around the town, checking out the mercantile and the land office and then picking up a newspaper. He went into the saloon and hung out for a while just to pick up on the local gossip. After that he went to the barber and felt a bit more civilized once his hair was cut. He made it back to the boardinghouse just as the landlady, Elizabeth, was starting dinner. She invited him into the kitchen, and he sat at the table enjoying milk and oatmeal cookies while she worked on the meal.

  Elizabeth and her husband, along with his family, had been some of the earliest settlers to come to St. Joseph. Both she and her sister-in-law were widowed now, her sister-in-law having the blessing of a married daughter to take care of her and her dress shop. Elizabeth had turned her home into a boardinghouse, which at present only had one other boarder, the local schoolteacher. Elizabeth’s one child, a son, had died of scarlet fever many years ago.

  Ian shared parts of his and Faith’s story with her, leaving out the part about Mason chasing them. He had just reached the part where they realized Faith was pregnant when she came into the kitchen.

  “Are you feeling better, my dear?” Elizabeth asked her.

  “I think I could sleep for a week,” Faith said and looked pointedly at the cookies and milk. Ian just grinned at her.

  “You need your rest now,” Elizabeth said and set a glass of milk on the table for Faith. Faith slid into the chair and helped herself to one of Ian’s cookies.

  “We need to get you healthy,” Elizabeth declared with her hands on her hips. She went back to preparing the meal, and Ian shared his day’s adventures with Faith.

  That evening, Ian made dinner a fun experience with his dry observations on the things he had seen in town. He even had the schoolmarm laughing into her napkin, and Faith could have sworn she saw the old maid bat her eyes at him. Faith ate as if she were starving and then couldn’t keep her eyes open when they moved out onto the porch to enjoy the cool evening air. Ian said he felt a bit tired himself, and the two retired to their room.

  “I’m sorry, Ian,” Faith said when she was beneath the covers. Ian was sitting up, perusing the newspaper.

  “For what?” he asked, setting the paper aside.

  “For this—for messing up our plans.”

  “This isn’t messing up our plans,” he said.

  “But we’re sitting here instead of finding a place.”

  “Faith, taking care of you and our baby is the most important thing right now. The land is out there, it’s not going anywhere. I want to look around and see what’s here, instead of just rushing out and settling on the first place we see.” He pulled her up into his arms. “Besides, what would happen if we were out there on our own and you had trouble giving birth? I wouldn’t be able to help you or the baby.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I guess I’m thinking that maybe we should stay in St. Jo this
winter. It would be hard starting out in the fall anyway. It would take all our money just for provisions, and getting a house and barn built before the snows come would be close to impossible without help. I could get a job at the livery. It would give me a chance to see a lot of stock and maybe buy some more mares. It would be nice to have the herd under way when we found a place to call our own.”

  “I think Elizabeth would like it if we stayed—she seems to really care—and I know the schoolmarm would like it. She has a crush on you.” Ian laughed at her comment. “I have to admit, Ian, I’ve been a little scared, thinking about going out on the plains and having a baby all by myself.”

  “I’ll talk to Elizabeth tomorrow and see if maybe she’ll reduce the rent in exchange for my doing chores. There’s a lot around here that needs to be done.”

  “And what am I supposed to do while you’re doing all this work?” Faith yawned against his chest.

  “Get fat and healthy and keep me warm at night.”

  “Is that all?” She snuggled up closer to him. “I think I can handle that.”

  The next day, Ian charmed Elizabeth over the breakfast table and soon had her convinced that she couldn’t make it another day without his help about the place. He drew up a list of improvements, and she was trying to decide how much credit she could get from the bank, Ian’s days were full with his job at the livery and the chores around the boardinghouse. Sundays he left free for exploring the surrounding countryside.

  Faith really didn’t know how to cook and begged Elizabeth to teach her, without letting Ian know. She began to fill out, and with rest was feeling much better. She now had a glow about her and was quite content. She helped Elizabeth where she could, and when her talent with a needle was discovered, she found herself employed by Elizabeth’s sister-in-law making dresses and shirts for the well-to-do in town. Every Sunday they went out to explore, Ian simply couldn’t get enough of it. He was leaning towards the north and west territory and wanted to make a trip to Council Bluffs to see what it was like.

  As Faith’s condition began to show, she left him to wander about on his own, and he returned after each expedition with exciting stories of game and scenery. He also began to practice with his rifle and revolver and took to wearing the revolver in a holster on his hip when he was out of the house. At first it bothered Faith, but she soon became used to it, and remembered his adage about having it and not needing it instead of needing it and not having it. Faith used the money she earned to buy fabric so she could make Ian shirts and clothes for the baby. Elizabeth became so attached to the couple that she was soon referring to the baby as he grandchild and spent all her free time knitting caps, stockings and blankets.

  By the time winter arrived, Faith was feeling cumbersome and Elizabeth admitted that she was rather large for being just six months along. The baby was constantly kicking or pushing against her, and Ian was amazed at the antics going on inside her extended belly. He loved to watch the movements in the morning before they started the day and would lay his hands on her to determine which end was up.

  “I swear. Faith, I think you’re going to have a foal,” he said one morning as he watched a major protrusion come out on her side.

  “Feels more like a full-grown horse to me,” Faith groaned. The baby was pressing on her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Christmas was coming and Elizabeth was full of plans, but Faith was having a hard time keeping up with the older woman.

  Ian just grinned at her, his hand roaming over her stomach.

  In all her life Faith couldn’t remember being as happy as she was now. She hadn’t had many joyful Christmases as a child, but since she had married Ian, it seemed like Christmas was all year long. He was constantly scavenging things for her. The shed behind the boardinghouse was full of furniture he had found and repaired, and one day he even came home with a buckboard he had earned by doing chores. He also became quite a hunter and often contributed to the larder. As the Christmas season approached, he became as giddy as a child with all the preparations. He was constantly snooping around in the kitchen to see what treat Elizabeth was working on, and she would shoo him out with her broom or towel, any tool that was handy. She adored Ian, and doted on Faith.

  Christmas came with all the trappings. Ian found what he called the perfect tree, and the three of them decorated it on Christmas Eve. They all went to the church service, Ian and Elizabeth on either side of Faith to help her walk through the light dusting of snow. The next morning they exchanged presents. Faith gave Ian a knife and scabbard. He gave her a lovely shawl and a cradle he had found and restored. They both gave Elizabeth a rather impressive looking bonnet, which she promptly put on and wore while fixing breakfast. They spent the day in peace, and after their bountiful dinner, featuring a wild turkey that Ian had shot, Ian read the Christmas story from Faith’s Bible.

  “Please, God,” Faith prayed as she listened to the rich timbre of his voice. “Let us always be this happy.” She felt the baby move beneath her hands. Ian caught the movement out of the comer of his eye and laid his hand over hers as he continued reading the passage. Elizabeth watched the two and gave thanks that they had been sent into her life.

  Winter was soon upon them, but it didn’t stop Ian from his Sunday adventures. He had purchased a gelding to use on his forays and made sure that he was prepared for any contingency on his outings. Faith, meanwhile, was finding it harder and harder to get around. She couldn’t make it to the dress shop anymore and worked on things at the boardinghouse, when she had the energy. She was now seven months pregnant but looked more like nine.

  There were a couple inches of snow on the ground when. Ian rose to begin his preparations for another exploration of the countryside. He was quite familiar with the area now and was beginning to venture further out to the north and west. Faith was buried under the covers, only the tip of her nose sticking out. Earlier she had complained about being hot, but now she looked as if she were hibernating. He kissed her and placed his hand on her belly to feel the baby before he left. For once the babe was quiet. He hoped again that it was a boy, because of its size. Once again he was glad they had stayed in town; he knew that this delivery would be difficult for Faith.

  He set out on the gelding, heading northwest as usual. The air was crisp, his breath showing in the air, and the hooves of the horse crunched through the snow. The sun was shining in the winter sky, but it was not having any impact on the temperature. Ian rode for a while, taking note of various landmarks, and how different they looked in the snow. This area was pretty well settled, he had seen it all before. The place he was going was north of the Platte; it was wide-open there, with plenty of range for the herd he envisioned. This was to be his last trip for a while. He had promised Faith that he wouldn’t range far now that winter storms were more likely. He had also told her not to expect him back for a few days. He would choose his land on this last trip; he wanted to be ready when he took his small family north to Council Bluffs.

  He camped by the river that night. He found a depression near some trees and soon had a cheery fire going to ward off the cold.

  The air was so clear that he felt as if he could hear for miles around. He briefly wondered what Faith was doing before he fell asleep. This was the first night they had spent apart since their marriage. It wasn’t something he wanted to do often.

  Faith was very restless that night. She missed Ian’s presence in the bed. She was unsettled, and the baby was restless, rolling around inside her every time she thought she was comfortable. “Please, God, keep him safe,” she said again. It had been a litany in her head ever since she woke up that morning.

  Ian awoke the next morning to overcast skies. He hoped the pending storm would stay away at least another day. There was a particular valley he wanted to explore. It would take him all day and then the next to get home. He had ridden a few hours when he came to the small rise that overlooked the valley. There was a stream running through the middle, with land that gently tapered down
. Beyond the stream the land curved out to the southeast, and there was a grove of trees. He could envision a drive leading up to the house that he would build there, just in front of the trees. The barn would be situated to the left. He rode the gelding down into the small valley and turned him upstream. He wanted to see how far the stream went, where the game trails were, and check for Indian signs. This land had belonged to the Sioux, and there were still several tribes around. The horse crunched through the snow, and Ian scanned the ground for tracks. He hadn’t traveled far when he heard a shot from somewhere up ahead. He pulled his rifle from its scabbard and kicked the gelding into a run.

  He had about given up on finding anything when he came across an Indian pony standing in a small depression. He slowly approached the horse and managed to catch hold of the tether that dragged the ground, tying it to his own saddle horn. He followed the tracks until he spotted blood in a patch of torn-up ground. He followed the trail of blood to where it disappeared into some brush. He dismounted, traded his rifle for his revolver, and cautiously entered the brush.

  He found an Indian, a man about his age, curled under a tree, a rifle in his hands. He was bleeding badly from a wound in his side. He tried to turn his gun on Ian, but didn’t have the strength to hold it up. Ian held up one hand and slowly holstered his gun with the other. He then lowered himself to his haunches and held both hands out to the man. The Indian dropped his gun to the ground. Ian slowly approached the man, who kept his dark eyes focused on his face.

  “Let me see what happened to you.” Ian said in the same soothing tones he would use with his horses.

  “I speak English,” the Indian panted. The blood was flowing quite freely and pooling on the ground.