Plains of Promise (Wyoming Series Book 2)

by Colleen Coble

  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. The tiny quarters seemed even more claustrophobic than usual. She desperately wished for a walk outside, but she could hear the wind howling around the windows. She jumped as someone pounded on the door, then hurried to open it.

  Isaac’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. The snow swirled around him like a thick, wet fog. “Come in,” she gasped as the freezing wind took her breath away.

  He pushed past her and she shut the door. “We’ve got a visitor,” he said to Sarah. “I told her to come in with me, but she insisted I come and ask if it’s all right.”

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

  Isaac grinned. “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,” he said gently.

  A figure covered in a thick buffalo hide slowly stepped through the doorway. Emmie was startled to realize it was an Indian girl of about sixteen or seventeen. Her thick braids were coated with snow and she looked pale and emaciated.

  The young woman stared straight at Sarah, then smiled. “My Say-rah, do you not know me?”

  Sarah gasped and jumped to her feet. “Morning Song!” She literally 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 burst into tears.

  Tears leaked from Morning Song’s eyes as 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 softly.

  Emmie noticed the child had light hair. His father must be white, she thought. She wondered who the young woman was. Sarah was obviously very fond of her. She’d heard Sarah talk about the time she’d spent in an Indian camp and her friends there, but the only Indian woman she’d heard her mention was one called White Beaver. Who was this girl? She had once been beautiful, Emmie was sure. Now her hair was dull and lifeless from hunger and deprivation and the sparkle was gone from her large dark eyes.

  The men stood around smiling foolishly. Rand seemed glad to see Morning Song as well. Joel was immediately pestering her about news of someone called Red Hawk. Emmie stood a little apart, feeling slightly left out. She had no idea who Morning Song was or why they were all so glad to see her. Isaac saw her confused look and stepped nearer.

  “She was one of Sarah’s first students back at Fort Laramie when Sarah taught reading and writing to the Indian youngsters,” Isaac explained softly. A dawning look broke over his face and he colored. “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 while ago with some friendly Shoshone.”

  The words didn’t make sense. Her nephew. Emmie looked across the room at the sleeping child. Her feet drew her across the floor until she stood in front of Sarah. She gazed down into the face of the baby boy. Ben’s son? He did have a certain look of her brother. His eyes were the same smoky gray. His hair was darker than Ben’s but not the raven of Morning Song’s.

  Sarah was suddenly aware of her standing there. The same dawning comprehension filled her face as had been on Isaac’s. She could tell by looking at Emmie that she knew who the baby was. After a glance at her Indian friend, she gently placed the child into Emmie’s arms. “What is his name, Morning Song?” Sarah asked.

  “I call him John. I learn about John in Holy Book when I go to mission school. About how he teach others to love God. So I name him John Randall. My people, my father, call him White Buffalo.”

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

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

  Not like Ben, Emmie finished for her silently. She approached the young woman warily. Would she hate her when she knew she was sister to the man who’d used her? “I am your sister,” she said gently. “Ben was my brother.”

  Morning Song flinched back as though Emmie had struck her. “You have her here?” she cried to Sarah. “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, probing secrets from her soul. The tension eased out of her shoulders, and she gently handed young John back to Emmie.

  “You my sister. Ben hurt you, too.”

  How did she know that? Emmie accepted the child again with wonder. What had Morning Song seen in her eyes? The baby had awakened from all the fuss and played with strands of her hair that had escaped its confinement. She hugged him gently, then gave him back to Morning Song. “You have a beautiful son,” she said softly.

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

  Sarah saw the fear and tension on her face and hurried to reassure her. “Oh, no, Morning Song. He’s—” She broke off and bit her lip as she glanced at Emmie.

  Emmie took a deep breath and finished Sarah’s sentence for her. “He’s dead. Killed by Sioux.” At least they thought that was true. And even if he wasn’t, Morning Song would never have to worry about him again.

  “When this happen?” Morning Song looked puzzled.

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

  Morning Song shook her head. “Then it not Ben. My brother see him at Sioux hunting grounds. Near the mountain where the white men take the yellow rock not many moons ago.”

  “You mean the gold mines in Montana?” Rand asked incredulously.

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

  The only sound was the crackle from the fire as everyone digested the news. Ben was alive! But he’d left Labe behind, Emmie thought. Why would he do that?

  “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?”

  Morning Song shrugged. “I not know. Red Hawk only see 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 visibly and she began to tremble. “It is more than I hoped for, my Say-rah. I just wished to see you again. I 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 eagerly. “I can stay with Jake and Amelia.”

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

  The young woman bowed her head in sorrow. “He and my father are with Red Cloud.”

  The announcement left them all speechless for a moment, then Rand said gently, “We’ll pray for him that God will keep him safe.”

  Isaac left, and the others spent the rest of the evening curled around the f
ire talking. Baby John was passed from arm to arm and slept contentedly through it. Morning Song told them she had gone with her father to the winter hunting grounds after leaving Fort Laramie. She had wanted to kill herself when she discovered she was to have a baby. But the truths she’d learned at the missionary school had kept her from such a drastic step. She knew Jesus loved her and would take care of her and her baby somehow. The Sioux did not treat her well as her pregnancy started to show. After John was born, she could no longer tolerate the unkind remarks about him, so she slipped away with the Shoshone chief who stopped in their village to speak with her father. She knew if she could get to one of the bluecoat forts, she could find where Sarah and Rand were. Jesus had led her right to them, she told them.

  Rand stoked the fire for the night and yawned. “I’m ready for some shut-eye. You better head on over to Jacob’s, Joel. Take some blankets with you so you don’t have to wake them.” Sarah was drooping with weariness as he led her off to bed. After Joel hurried out with an armload of blankets, Emmie made up the bed for Morning Song, then slipped away to her own bed. As she snuggled under the buffalo robe, she thought about how God had taken care of the young Indian woman. A sense of God’s arms around her brought a smile to her face. He truly did care, didn’t He? She could rest upon His promises. He would care for her just as He did Morning Song.

  nine

  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 up early,” she said. “Say-rah still sleeping.”

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

  Morning Song nodded as she went to lay the baby down in the parlor. She covered him with the edge of the buffalo robe and came back into the kitchen. “Baby up most of the night. Not used to 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. “Many moons since I have tea with Say-rah.” She sighed and took a sip of tea. “Many changes have come.”

  They both turned as 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,” she said. “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. You said 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 visibly fought tears. “I do not wish to be burden for my friends,” she said almost inaudibly. “Shoshone chief say I can stay at his encampment. But I wish to leave my son with you. Baby deserve to be accepted by whites.”

  Sarah nodded vigorously. “But we won’t keep him without you, Morning Song. You must stay also. Rand has already gone to ask the commander for permission for you to stay. 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 noiselessly. “I must help Say-rah if I stay,” she said. “And baby is very good. We 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 quickly. “You not stay here all the time? You have husband here?”

  Emmie shook her head slowly. How much should I tell Morning Song? she wondered. The suffering on the other girl’s face convinced her. She deserved the truth, she thought. “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 loco weed after all babies come.”

  Sarah and Emmie chuckled. “He’ll survive it,” Sarah said. “Now let’s see about getting you some other clothes. Then we’ll go see Amelia. She’ll be so glad you’re here.”

  They scrounged through Sarah’s and Emmie’s wardrobes before deciding on a blue flannel dress of Emmie’s. It was a little too small for Emmie now, but it fit Morning Song’s too thin frame loosely. They helped her bathe and dress, then arranged her hair in a coronet of braids around her head. Her moccasins were full of holes, but a pair of Sarah’s boots fit fairly well. She looked like a modest young white woman with a suntan when they were finished with her.

  Morning Song stared at herself in the small hand mirror and smiled in delight. She’d always wanted to be a part of Sarah’s world. The snow had finally stopped, so they donned warm cloaks and bonnets, bundled the baby up, and hurried across the parade ground to Amelia’s.

  The house was dark when they let themselves in. Emmie noticed the fire was almost out, so she threw some more logs on it while Sarah hurried to the bedroom to check on Amelia.

  “Emmie, come quickly!” Sarah called urgently from the bedroom. “The baby’s coming!”

  Emmie rushed to the bedroom with Morning Song close behind her. A slick sheen of sweat coated Amelia’s pale face and she moaned softly. She was so pale, Emmie felt a stab of pure terror. Help her, Lord, she prayed silently. Give her strength in this hour. She took Amelia’s hand. “Your baby will be here soon,” she said soothingly. “You’re going to be a mama today.”

  Amelia moaned again.

  “Sarah, I’ll run and get Doc Horton,” Emmie said. She knew by one look at Sarah’s pale face that she was in no shape to take charge. “Morning Song, would you go find me some rags and boil some water? I’ll send someone to go find Jake. This must have come on suddenly after he left.”

  At that moment they heard the door bang and Jake rushed in with Dr. Horton close behind. “I thank God you’re here,” Jake said. “I didn’t want to leave her alone. I kept hoping someone would stop by, but no one was out with the weather so nasty.”

  They all stepped out of the room so the doctor could examine her in private. Jake paced back and forth across the kitchen, pausing now and then to gaze into the bedroom. Beyond an initial look of recognition when he saw Morning Song, he withdrew into himself and said nothing to any of them.

  Emmie finally took his arm. “Let’s pray,” she suggested.

  He gave her a startled look. “You’re right,” he groaned as he dropped to his knees beside a kitchen chair.

  Emmie knelt on one side and Sarah and Morning Song on the other.

  “Lord, we know You’re here with us right now,” Jake said. “We know You love Amelia even more than we do. We pray that You would be with her in her hour of travail. Give her strength and endurance. Bring the baby quickly and ease her pain.” He broke off with a choked sound that was half sob and half groan. He drew a shaky breath and continued. “And help us to endure watching her suffer. We leave her in Your hands, Father. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  They all stayed on their knees for a few more moments, then rose as Dr. Horton came into the room. “She’s in a bad way,” the doctor said bluntly. “She’s too weak to stand much of this and the baby is coming the wrong way. Have any of you ladies helped deliver babies before?”

  Sarah and Emmie looked at each other and shook their heads.

  Morning Song nodded slowly. “I help many women in my village.”

  Dr. Horton looked at her for a moment, then evidently satisfied with what he saw, nodded. “Wash your hands and come with me. You, too,” he said to Emmie.

  Morning Song and Emmie hurried to obey. They scrubbed their hands with lye soap and went into the bedroom. />
  “We’ve got to try to turn the baby,” the doctor said. “Emmie, I need you to hold her down while I push on her stomach. Do you know what to do?” he asked Morning Song.

  She nodded and knelt by Amelia.

  Emmie thought she couldn’t stand it as Amelia thrashed and cried out while Morning Song inserted her hand and began to turn the baby as gently as she could. She was trembling and dripping with perspiration by the time the doctor stood up.

  “You can let her go now,” he said. “Things should move along now. You did very well,” he told Morning Song approvingly. “Now both of you get out of here and try to calm Jake down.”

  Emmie closed the door behind her with a sense of relief. Jake was beside her instantly. “How is she?” he demanded in a shaky voice.

  “We got the baby turned,” she said. “The doctor says it should be all right now.” That wasn’t exactly what he said, but Emmie hoped it was true. She washed her hands at the wash bucket, then went to the stove on shaky legs and poured a cup of coffee.

  Amelia cried out behind the closed door and Jake shuddered convulsively. He sank to a chair and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t stand it,” he muttered.

  The entry door opened and his brother rushed in. “I heard the baby is coming,” Rand said. He took in the grave faces in the kitchen. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” he asked Sarah.

  Sarah leaned against him and buried her face in his chest. “The doctor thinks so now. But she’s very weak.”

  The afternoon dragged on as they paced outside the bedroom door. Finally, Amelia cried out again, then they heard the weak, wavering cry of a newborn baby. Jake shot to his feet and looked at the bedroom door wildly. Rand stepped forward and gripped his arm. “Calm down, little brother. You won’t do Amelia any good in this state.”