by Ginny Dye
Carrie worked as she talked, determined not to show her horror at the condition of Frances’ hands and feet. She was scared she would not be able to save them, but that was not something you told a terrified child. “We’re just going to use the snow until we have restored circulation to your hands and feet. You won’t feel anything at first, but as they begin to warm up they may hurt pretty badly. I apologize for that in advance.” Frances met her eyes steadily, her expression one of stoic acceptance. Carrie could only imagine what the child had endured during the last forty-eight hours.
Carrie didn’t add that the skin may turn black instead of restoring itself to normal. If that happened, gangrene would most likely set in and they would have to amputate. They would deal with whatever they had to deal with as they treated her. She had caught a glimpse of her father’s hands. Carolyn had been right about it being unlikely that his fingers could be saved on the left, but they would still do the best they could. It was imperative they get his leg set, as well as his wife’s arm.
Carrie looked up at Lieutenant Ryall. “Please have your men get two of the boards from the wagon. I need one the length of the man’s leg and another the length of the woman’s arm. I also need strips of cloth. There is clothing scattered on the floor of the wagon that can be used.”
“You know how to set broken bones?” The lieutenant’s voice was skeptical.
“I was a doctor at Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond during the war,” she said crisply. “I assure you I have dealt with far worse than this.” She met his eyes steadily. “Since you have no one else to help this family, I suggest you trust me and my team, and not hinder us.”
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Borden,” Lieutenant Ryall responded, his eyes once more shining with surprised admiration.
Carrie turned back to Frances, hopeful there would be no more resistance from the soldiers, who had obviously never experienced women doctors. “I’m going to give you a special medicine that will help you feel better,” she said soothingly. She reached for the bottle of Agaricus Muscarius that Janie had pulled out of her bag. The tincture would begin to restore life to the frozen limbs, and also help with the pain of rewarming. She wished she’d had this remedy during the winters at Chimborazo; it would have greatly diminished the soldier’s suffering.
She mixed the tincture in a little cup of water and held it to Frances’ lips. “Do your best to swallow this for me, honey.” Frances met her gaze and managed one swallow when the liquid went into her mouth. “Good girl! You are being very brave,” Carrie said. “It’s going to take a little while for the snow to start helping, so I’m going to look after your little sisters and brother.” Carrie had watched the girl’s eyes try to roam the lean-to, but she had not yet discovered the true condition of her siblings.
“The boards and the cloth are right inside. How else can we help?” Lieutenant Ryall asked.
Carrie’s respect for the lieutenant expanded. He may never have experienced female doctors, but he was willing to push beyond his perceptions. “We have to get the youngest children warm as quickly as possible, but we must be very careful. I need two of your men who will undress their top body, get under the blankets, and hold the children against their chests for warmth. I will give the children some medicine, and we’ll have to treat them for frostbite, but first we have to make sure they survive the hypothermia. The children are so cold, I’m afraid it won’t be a pleasant experience for your men.”
Two of the men who were close enough to hear stepped forward immediately.
“I’ll do it,” one offered. “If it was my daughter, I would want someone to help her.”
“Same here,” a bearded man with kind eyes added. “I’ll take the older one. My daughter is about the same age.”
Carrie smiled her gratitude and watched the men crawl under the covers. The children were stripped of their frozen clothing and then passed to them. She saw the men’s faces tighten as they embraced the icy forms, but neither murmured a word of complaint.
“I just want you to hold them,” she ordered. “Do not massage their bodies, or even rub them. Their skin is too fragile from the frostbite. It will only harm them more.” She mixed a quick batch of Agaricus Muscarius, praying she could get enough down the tiny throats to do them good. She pulled back the covers to pour a small amount into the children’s mouths, thrilled when their throats constricted to accept the liquid. That was a sure sign they were not as deeply hypothermic as she had feared.
“Are you both warm?” she asked the men after they piled more blankets on them. “Relatively speaking, of course,” she added lightly. When they both smiled and nodded, she moved over to Janie and Carolyn.
They had followed her lead, packing all extremities in snow. Carrie resisted the urge to check on the results because any movement of the hands and feet could cause eruptions of blisters and make the skin split. All they could do now was wait for the men to appear with the firewood. Once they had the man and woman warm, they would set their broken limbs.
It was only a few minutes before she heard approaching horses. She whispered a silent prayer of thanks as huge piles of blankets were passed inside the lean-to. As she piled them on the victims, she heard the men begin to put up the larger tent that would house the family, and her team, for the night. They would have to stay with the family if there was to be any hope for survival. She could only pray another storm would not sweep across the plains.
Randall and Nathan appeared at the door.
“It’s pretty crowded in there,” Randall said, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. “We’ll make sure the tent is ready, and then I’ll set the broken leg while you take care of the arm.”
Carrie’s smile was genuine this time. Her entire team might be cold and filthy, but they were going to save this family’s lives. Warm pride cut through most of the cold.
*****
Carrie sat by Frances’ side as the tent was erected. She sighed in relief when she heard more men arrive with the firewood, cook pot and tub. They worked quickly to get the fire blazing as darkness settled in. They hung a big cast iron pot over the flames, filled it with snow to melt, and then erected the second tent that would house the men for the night.
Lieutenant Ryall appeared at the entrance to the lean-to. “The beds are ready,” he said quietly. “I had the men cut a hole in the top of the tent to act as a vent so a fire can be built. It’s getting warm already.”
Carrie stared at him with admiration. “Thank you. That was brilliant.”
The lieutenant shrugged, but looked pleased. “I’ve learned a few things from the Indians,” he admitted.
“If your men can build a wall of stones around the fire it will help keep the tent even warmer,” Carrie added. “The stones will absorb the heat and radiate it back into the tent.”
Lieutenant Ryall eyed her. “You’re pretty smart yourself.”
“There is a very smart thirteen-year-old girl in Ohio who made sure I had all the information I would need for this trip. I just read what she gave me.”
“Thirteen? She much be very special.”
“She is,” Carrie assured him, feeling a stab of longing for Moses, Rose, Felicia, John and Hope. She pushed aside the thought that they would not be on the plantation when she returned. “I would like a layer of blankets put on the cot before the family lies down. We must create as much insulation between them and the ground as possible. Then at least four blankets on top of them.” She gathered several hot water bottles from her team’s medical bags. “When the water is hot, but not boiling, please have these bottles filled. It will help keep the family warmer.”
“You’ve got it,” Lieutenant Ryall replied. “Randall and Nathan have already given us their bags to be filled. Are you ready for the family to be moved?”
Carrie looked at the two men holding the youngest children under the covers. “Are the girls getting warm?”
“My little one hasn’t moved yet, but she doesn’t feel like a block of ice anymore,�
� the soldier holding the two-year-old answered gravely. “I’m not sure I would choose the word warm, however.”
When Carrie turned to look at the other soldier, she heard a slight whimper from under the covers. She smiled, but the smile faded quickly because she knew the agony the little girl was about to suffer. She turned to the lieutenant. “These girls can be moved as soon as the hot water bottles are filled.” She turned back to the men who had volunteered to help. “If you’re all right, it will be best if you continue to hold them. Not only for the warmth, but also for the comfort. They are going to wake up to a lot of pain, and they are going to be frightened.”
“I’ve got mine.”
“Me, too,”
Carrie smiled her gratitude and then turned to look at Frances. The little girl was staring at her accusingly, but she still didn’t seem capable of speech. Carrie understood. “Your little sisters were not doing well, but they are getting warmer.” Frances blinked. “I will let you know how your parents are as soon as I get you into the new tent, but first, let me take a look at your hands.” Carrie pulled them very gently from the snow that had already melted into slush. She was relieved to see the grayish white color was giving way to a pinker tint. Circulation was being restored. “They are doing better, Frances,” she said reassuringly, relieved beyond words that she would not have to remove this little girl’s hands to save her life.
Frances whispered a single word. “Danny?”
Carrie sighed, knowing she could no longer avoid the issue. Not telling Frances the truth would be as harmful as telling her. She knelt down next to the mattress, wishing she could hold the little girl’s hand, but knowing it was too risky. “Honey, I’m sorry, but Danny died. He got too cold.”
The agony twisting Frances’ face needed no words for interpretation. When Carrie heard a guttural moan from the mother, she knew her words had been overheard. Carolyn began to soothe the woman, but there were really no words that could assuage the loss of a child. Carrie knew that all too well. Again, she wondered what had brought this family out onto the plains in the winter, but the reason didn’t matter. Nothing would change the outcome of the blizzard.
*****
Five days passed before the snow had disappeared enough for Captain Marley to move the wagon train forward.
Carrie stepped outside the tent and raised her face to the warm sunshine, welcoming the breeze that caressed her skin. She knew another blast of winter could still be lurking beyond the horizon, but she was also learning to enjoy the moment in front of her in this wild, unpredictable land.
“Are we leaving today, too? Daddy said we are.”
Carrie looked down at the courageous little girl she had learned to love like a daughter in the past days. Frances had made a miraculous recovery and was trying to deal with the grief of losing her little brother, Danny. “You are,” Carrie assured her. A merchant wagon train traveling from Santa Fe had arrived the day before, and had agreed to take the recovering family to Fort Larned. The two youngest were still weak, and not out of bed yet, but they would recover. When they were stronger, and when their father’s broken leg had healed, they would join another wagon train back to Independence. Frances smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. “Aren’t you glad to be going back home?”
Frances shrugged. “We left Illinois because Daddy couldn’t get a job. There ain’t nothing waiting for us back there, but he doesn’t want to go on to New Mexico anymore, either. Well, Mama doesn’t want to go anymore. She told Daddy last night that this godforsaken land already took one of her babies, and she weren’t going to let it take no more.”
Carrie understood how the mother felt, but she hoped the family would be able to make a new beginning once they returned home. Finding a job was difficult now that the war was over. After talking to her father, Greg, she understood the desperation that had compelled him to attempt to reach a promised job in Santa Fe. He had fought through the four years of the war, come home to find his family suffering, and had not been able to find a job in the last two years. She had thought the worst part of the suffering was felt by Confederate soldiers; now she understood Union soldiers were suffering, as well. It was going to take a long time for the country to recover.
“That ain’t what is bothering me, though,” Frances confided.
Carrie brought her thoughts back to the little girl. “What is it?” she asked gently.
Frances dipped her head and then lifted her large hazel eyes up to meet Carrie’s. “I’m going to miss you real bad.”
Carrie knelt down and wrapped Frances in her arms, feeling a stab of loss. “And I’m going to miss you, Frances. You are very special to me.”
“Really?” Frances asked. “You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m not just saying that,” Carrie assured her. “You have become like a daughter to me. I’m going to miss you so very much.”
Frances leaned back in her embrace and gazed at her with piercing eyes. “Why don’t you have children, Miss Carrie? You’d be a real good mama.”
Carrie caught her breath as the familiar wave of pain threatened to swallow her, but she recovered quickly. “I had a little girl,” she said softly. “She died the day she was born.”
Frances gasped, her eyes wide as saucers. “The very same day?”
“The very same day.”
“I bet you miss her real bad.”
“I do,” Carrie agreed, not bothering to keep the sadness from her voice. Frances was experiencing her own loss. It was important for her to know it was alright to feel sad.
“Do you miss her every day?”
“Every day,” Carrie replied, but she knew it was important to give Frances hope. “It doesn’t hurt quite as badly as it used to, though. I will always miss Bridget, but I have learned how to smile and laugh again.”
Frances thought about that. “I laughed at something Julia did yesterday. Do you think that would make Danny feel bad?”
Carrie shook her head firmly, remembering the moment when Frances had laughed at her four-year-old little sister. “No, I don’t. Danny is happy now in heaven. I believe he wants you to be happy, too. It takes time to get over the missing, but it will get easier to be happy.”
Frances nodded slowly. “I reckon I can see that.” Then she sighed. “Why doesn’t my mama tell me things like this?” she asked. “She doesn’t seem to talk at all anymore.”
Carrie held her back so she could gaze into Frances’ eyes again. “It’s real hard for a mama to lose her child, Frances. You miss Danny very badly, but your mama feels she has lost part of her heart. It will take her time to get over it.”
She decided not to mention that her mama’s grief was compounded by the loss of two of her fingers and three of her toes, as well as her husband losing all the fingers on his left hand. Carrie had not been given any other choice than to amputate the toes and fingers when they turned black and became infected. She was grateful for the surgical experience that had allowed her and Randall to save the couple’s life, and had been grateful the youngest ones had not required the same. She knew not having fingers on one hand would make it even more difficult for Greg to get a job, though. He was determined to make the best of things, but her heart ached for him. All he had wanted to do was make life better for his family.
“Do you think Mama will ever get over it?” Frances pressed. “She was already real sad when we left Illinois. Daddy told her we would have a better life down in New Mexico. Now we don’t even got that.”
Carrie thought quickly. She knew families all over the country were floundering in poverty, but there was no point in living if you couldn’t have hope. She couldn’t possibly know if Frances was going home to a better life, but she had to give her something to hang onto. “Can I tell you something I have learned in the last year?”
“Yes,” Frances whispered as she stared into Carrie’s eyes with a penetrating gaze.
“I’ve learned that life is always going to have pain,” Carrie said, �
��but I’ve also learned never to give up hope that things will be better. There was a time when I didn’t have any hope,” she admitted. “I couldn’t believe that my life would get better, and I wanted to die.” She hesitated, not sure if she was saying more than Frances could possibly understand. Then she remembered all the times Old Sarah had infused her with wisdom that she hadn’t understood until years later. The lessons she had not understood as a girl had become lifelines as an adult. “I’ve learned that hope is the most important thing in the world. Even when I can’t see how things can get better, I know that hope will pull me forward into a better future.”
“How?” Frances demanded suspiciously.
“Because hope kept me from giving up,” Carrie replied. “Honey, I can’t tell you if your mama will ever be happy again. I hope so, but I can’t promise you that. What I can tell you is that you can hold on to hope that things will be better for you. In time, they will.”
Frances looked unconvinced. “I’m only ten, Miss Carrie. I can’t make things different in my family.”
“You’re right,” Carrie agreed. “You can help, but you’re still a little girl. I didn’t say holding on to hope is easy, Frances. I can promise you, though, that you’re going to get older. And when you are older, you are going to have the opportunity to make your life different—no matter what anyone else does right now.”
Frances cocked her head. “What do I have to do?”
“You’ve got to take every opportunity that comes your way,” Carrie replied, praying her words would lodge firmly enough in Frances’ heart to carry her through the challenges waiting for her. “There will be many ways for you to learn new things. When you get older, you’ll be able to get a job yourself. You’ve also got to plan for a different life by studying as hard as you can.”
