by Ginny Dye
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Carrie breathed in the soft, fresh air. The sun glimmered across the plains surrounding them, glinting off the mica, and bringing the red rocks to life. She had fallen in love with the sandstone rocks and cliffs that sometimes towered thousands of feet above them. She knew the red and orange colors were caused by the presence of iron oxide that had rusted in the rain. She seldom missed a sunrise or sunset because the already beautiful formations seemed to explode with life and magic as the sun ignited the colors into dancing flames.
Raton Pass was long behind them, and winter had been swallowed by the warmth of a new season. More regular baths in cold streams had lifted all their spirits, and they had been able to shed their heavy winter coats. The nights were still chilly, but that was the reality of the desert year-round; hot days were always followed by cool nights. She found it far more refreshing than the South’s constant cloying heat and humidity.
Carrie was standing near the edge of the wagon circle, watching the red rocks fade into less vibrant color as the sun finished its ascent when Captain Marley walked up beside her. “Hello, Captain,” Carrie said quietly. She didn’t necessarily want company, but she wouldn’t dream of being rude.
“We’ll be there today,” Captain Marley informed her.
“I knew we were close,” Carrie answered, suddenly uncertain how she felt about it.
Captain Marley eyed her. “The Santa Fe Trail can become your home,” he said perceptively. “Leaving it means you have to re-enter real life again.”
“Yes,” Carrie murmured, grateful for his understanding. “I’m reminding myself that the whole reason I am on this wagon train is because of the difference we can make at Bosque Redondo.”
“And you will,” Captain Marley assured her, “but that doesn’t change the reality that the reservation is going to be a rude awakening.”
Carrie eyed the captain, hearing something in his voice she could not identify. “There is something you’re not telling me,” she said. “Out with it.”
Captain Marley nodded reluctantly. “I sent a group of my men ahead. They arrived with their report this morning.”
Carrie cocked a brow when he quit talking. “And?” she prompted.
“It’s bad,” Captain Marley finally said in a clipped voice. “The Navajo are starving. They have refused to plant crops because they believe the land has rejected them.”
Carrie thought about what she had learned from Chooli over the fall. “The army put them on land incapable of producing crops,” she retorted. “They have lost every crop since they were forced into Bosque Redondo. Of course they believe the land has rejected them. Are you saying they are not being fed by our government?”
Captain Marley looked as angry as she felt. “There is not enough food, and disease is sweeping through the compound,” he growled.
Carrie gritted her teeth, realizing it would do no good to vent her frustration on him. He felt the same way she did. “We’re here to do what we can, but what is our country going to do?” she snapped. “Certainly they will not stand by while all these people starve and die!”
“I sent in reports when I returned from my last trip. Others are exposing the situation. I want to do more, but it seems to be all we can do.”
Carrie stared at him. “And you think anyone cares? Enough to do something about it?”
“I have to believe that,” Captain Marley said. “Look, I understand how you feel, Carrie. I have felt all the same things. If I could set all the Navajo free and send them back to their homeland, I would.”
“Would you?” Carrie demanded. “I heard a group of your men talking about the Navajo. They said they should all be sent up to the Indian territory in Oklahoma like the other tribes. They believe all the tribes should be wiped out or taken where they can’t impede the progress of white supremacy.” Anger rose in her like a fierce tide.
Captain Marley sighed. “Just like all Southerners did not support slavery, neither do all white males support the policies of the United States right now.”
Carrie stared at him, unable to refute the truth in his statement. Tears of fury filled her eyes. She struggled for something to say, but came up empty.
“What’s really bothering you, Carrie?”
Carrie narrowed her eyes, wishing she had sent him on his way when he first found her. “What?”
“You’ve been very tense lately. Today seems to be worse than usual. The Navajo problem is enough reason, but something tells me that is not all.” Captain Marley paused, his eyes holding hers. “I haven’t wanted to pry, but if it will help to talk…”
Carrie took a deep breath. Janie and Matthew had been walking around on eggshells all day. Janie had offered to talk, but she had cut her off quickly. She just wanted the day to end, but obviously she was not handling her feelings very well. Finally, she met his compassionate eyes and made her decision. “My husband, Robert, was murdered one year ago today.”
“My God.” Captain Marley stared at her. “I knew he had been murdered, but I had no idea when.”
“No.” Carrie didn’t know how to tell him she was trying to run away from the reality. Most days she could keep her mind on other things. As she had drawn closer to the anniversary it had been impossible.
“What happened?”
Carrie realized talking about it might help her through her feelings. Talking with Captain Marley, because he knew nothing of the situation, was the best course open to her. “The Ku Klux Klan attacked my family’s plantation last April. They tried to burn our house, but it was too well protected, so they decided to destroy the barn. No one knew a little girl that Robert loved like a daughter was in there.” Carrie sighed. “Her name is Amber. She woke up scared and confused during all the shooting and came out to see what was going on. One of the KKK saw her and decided he would kill her.”
“A little girl? Why?”
“Amber is black,” Carrie said shortly, relieved when she saw nothing but continued horror in the captain’s eyes. “When Robert realized the man’s intent, he dove forward to shield Amber.” Her voice faltered. “The bullet entered his back, puncturing major organs.” She took a deep breath and pushed on. “I was out of town in Philadelphia when it happened. When I got back the next day, I was met at the train station with the news that Robert didn’t have long to live. I rode out to the plantation immediately.” She faltered again as her throat clogged with hot tears. “At the time, I was almost seven months pregnant. My little girl was stillborn minutes after Robert died in my arms.”
Silence surrounded them like a cocoon. Carrie understood there were no words in response to her revelation. It’s why she usually stayed silent.
“Carrie…” Captain Marley murmured. He reached out and took her hand, and then pulled her into a warm embrace. “I’m sorry. So sorry…”
The sympathy, stopping short of pity, was Carrie’s undoing. She collapsed into his arms, allowing deep sobs to wrack her body. They poured forth from her in unending waves of grief. It felt as if a year had not passed—that Robert had just died in her arms. She could feel his body, hear his tortured voice, see the searing regret in his eyes right before he closed them for the last time.
Captain Marley held her, letting her cry. When the tears finally abated, she found she could breathe again. When she was confident she could stand on her own, Carrie stepped back and wiped the tears from her face. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I believe I will survive now.”
“I wish I knew more to say.”
“There is nothing to say,” Carrie assured him. “You handled it perfectly.” She couldn’t help but smile at the relieved look in his eyes. “I don’t break down very much anymore.”
“I won’t pretend I understand what you are feeling, because I have not gone through what you have. It’s easy, though, to imagine how I would feel. My whole world would be shattered if something happened to my wife and one of my children. They are my reason for living. I am quite certain I would not h
andle it as well as you have.”
Carrie smiled slightly. “I was a complete disaster for the first three months, but I’m finding my way back to the land of the living. I know that is what Robert would want.” She didn’t feel it necessary to reveal that Robert had sent her back when she had been so close to death. “Coming on the wagon train has helped. Being able to ride Celeste through such wonderful country has healed my heart so much.”
“I’m glad,” Captain Marley replied, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
Carrie could see the questions in his eyes. “Go ahead,” she invited. “What do you want to know?”
“I’ve heard bits about the Ku Klux Klan. Are they as bad as I hear?”
“Worse,” Carrie said, grateful she could talk about something other than her loss. “But it’s not only the KKK. There are many other vigilante groups in the South who are determined to keep blacks from having any rights. They are killing both whites and blacks to achieve their agenda.”
“But the South is under military control,” Captain Marley protested.
Carrie raised a brow. “So is the West, but it seems like the United States is having quite a challenge handling the Indians,” she pointed out.
“It’s a huge territory,” Captain Marley argued.
“So is the South,” Carrie reminded him. “The bigger cities are easier to control, but the rural areas are almost impossible. There are not enough troops in the United States to protect all the blacks.”
“So we won the war, but we haven’t stopped the problem.”
Carrie understood his bitter tone. “It’s easier to win a battle than it is to change how people think or believe. The South conceded defeat in the war, but they most certainly have not conceded defeat in their belief that they are far superior to blacks. They will do everything they can to make sure blacks are denied their rights.”
“They will lose,” Captain Marley said flatly.
“Will they?” Carrie asked.
Captain Marley was the one to raise a brow now. “You don’t believe that?”
“I want to,” Carrie replied, “but it is going to take a very long time for attitudes and beliefs to change in the South. I am afraid I doubt the determination of our government to provide protection for blacks for as long as that takes.”
Captain Marley remained thoughtful. “I hope you are wrong,” he finally said.
“I do, too,” Carrie answered, but there was no confidence in her voice.
*****
Carrie bit back nausea as the wagon train rolled into Bosque Redondo. She knew she was staring at almost six thousand acres of barren fields stretching for miles down the Pecos River. There were no trees of any kind to block the winds blowing across the unforgiving land, stirring up dirt and swirling dust. The buildings for the military were cared for, but the rest of the reservation was horrifying. Endless numbers of small rustic huts made of mud adobe, covered with stick roofing, were perched in crowded clusters as far as she could see. Stark poverty shouted at her from every direction.
But it was the people…
Hollow-eyed Navajos stared back at her. Their gaunt frames were topped by faces pinched with hunger and sickness, but it was the total despair that ripped at her soul. She didn’t know that she had ever seen such hopelessness in a face. She had seen sickness and hunger during the war, but she had never seen someone who looked like their very life-force had been carved from their body and souls. She wondered how in the world her small team could make any difference in the face of such massive need.
“Dear God…” Janie whispered in a shocked voice.
“There is no excuse for this,” Matthew snapped angrily. “Every death that has occurred here is the fault of our government. The despair of every person rests solely on the shoulders of the United States.”
Carrie nodded, finding a morsel of solace in the fact that Matthew would bring it to light in his articles. She knew, though, that many of the people staring at them would not make it until the wagon train took her team back east at the end of summer. Would Matthew’s articles be anything more than a memorial of the destruction of a once proud people? She glanced at Carolyn, Melissa, Randall and Nathan. All of them were staring at the Navajo with sickened, compassionate eyes.
“We will do all we can,” Carrie said firmly, hearing a note of desperation in her voice. She straightened on the seat and lifted her head. “Just like during the war, there will be many we can’t help, but we will save all we can.”
“At least they will know there are white people who care,” Melissa murmured, her eyes wide and pained. “What they must think of us…”
Captain Marley rode up. “We will take you to the hospital first, and then we’ll get you settled in your quarters.”
Carrie had another plan, but now was not the time to reveal it. “Are you as horrified as we are?” she demanded.
“Yes,” Captain Marley said curtly.
Carrie saw the pained agony in his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. “Don’t some of your men speak Navajo?”
“Yes. I have two soldiers who were here from the beginning. They learned how to speak Navajo for translation purposes.”
“May I speak with one of them, please?” Carrie asked, wondering how difficult it would be to find Chooli’s parents and grandparents. Were they even still alive?
Captain Marley nodded and rode off. He returned in a few minutes with one of the soldiers. “This is Private Todd Patterson.”
“Hello, Private,” Carrie said, favoring him with a brilliant smile. “I’m hoping you will be able to assist me.”
“I’ll do my best, but only if you call me Todd.”
Carrie liked the open friendliness in the soldier’s blue eyes. She had seen the stocky young man with long blond hair and broad shoulders around the wagon train, but they had not spoken before. “Of course,” she agreed. “I am trying to find some people here.” She knew how difficult it might be to locate Chooli’s family in the midst of nine thousand Indians. Did they even keep record of everyone who was here?
Todd nodded but looked doubtful. “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Borden.”
“Carrie. If I’m to call you Todd, then we should all dispense with formalities. It seems there are issues here to be far more concerned about.”
“I agree,” Todd replied. “I don’t know if I can help you, but I’ll do my best. The military knows how many people are here, but I’m certain they know the identities of only a few. How do you know someone here at Bosque Redondo?”
Carrie told him briefly about Chooli, leaving out the part about Franklin disappearing with her and two horses in the middle of the night. She also left out their names. Todd narrowed his eyes, obviously knowing there was more to the story than she was revealing, but he just nodded again. “I don’t know the people I am looking for,” Carrie finished, “but I do have a letter the woman wrote for when I find them. It is in Navajo.”
Todd still looked doubtful, but there was another expression in his eyes she couldn’t read. “Do you know her family’s names?”
Carrie handed him the letter. “Since I don’t speak Navajo, I’m sure I will only slaughter the pronunciation of their names.” She realized she was at least going to have to identify Chooli if there was going to be any hope of finding her family. There was no reason to mention Franklin. “I do know Chooli’s grandfather is a medicine man.”
Todd brightened. “That will certainly make it easier. There are not many medicine men, and they are well known throughout the Navajo Nation.” He took the letter she handed him and read it carefully.
Carrie saw his eyes widen slightly as he read, but he didn’t look at her.
Todd finished the letter, and then looked at Carrie. “Chooli thinks a lot of you.”
Carrie smiled. “And I think a lot of her. We’ve become good friends.” Chooli had not told her what was in the letter; just assured her that her family would welcome her. She wondered if Chooli was enjoying her first spring
in the South, or if she was still wracked with homesickness.
“She and Franklin are doing well?”
Carrie stiffened. She had been very careful not to say Franklin’s name. She realized Chooli could have talked about him in the letter, but Carrie hadn’t noticed his name among the Navajo letters and words. She searched for a response that would not jeopardize their safety. Desertion from the military was not taken lightly.
Todd chuckled. “You can relax. Franklin is a friend. I was the one who told him that if he wanted Chooli and their baby to live, he should disappear. I figured out who you were talking about when you told me the story, but I wasn’t going to say anything until I read the letter Chooli wrote. If she says you are all right, then you are all right.”
Carrie laughed with relief. “Thank you.”
“So, Franklin is doing well?”
Carrie hesitated. She wanted to trust Todd, and her instincts told her she could, but she didn’t want to do anything that would put Franklin in jeopardy.
Todd nodded. “You’re right to be careful, but Franklin was my friend. I suppose there are people who would like to haul him back into the Buffalo Soldiers, but I am not one of them.”
Carrie glanced around and realized there was no one but her team who could hear their conversation. “Franklin is doing well,” she confirmed with a smile. “He is managing a tobacco plantation.” She chose not to mention it was her family home.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Todd said warmly.
Carrie’s liking for the soldier grew. It was obvious he was aware she wasn’t telling him everything. It was just as obvious that he didn’t care. “Chooli had her baby,” she added. “Ajei is beautiful.”
“My Heart,” Todd said. “It’s the perfect name for their child. I’m so glad they made it before Chooli gave birth. I knew they would be better off gone from Bosque Redondo, but it was a risk.”
Carrie grinned. “I delivered Ajei the night they arrived.”
Todd whistled, but turned all-business again when another soldier rode up with a message from Captain Marley. He listened carefully and waited for the soldier to ride off before turning back to Carrie. “I have to go, but I will do everything I can to find Chooli’s family. Now that I know Chooli wants you to meet them, it won’t be hard. I never knew them before, but I know what part of the reservation to look in. Go ahead and inspect the hospital and get settled. I believe I can take you to them tonight.”
