Across the Border

by Arleta Richardson

  “Did you sell everything, Papa?” Frances asked.

  “We did. A lot of things went to the folks who bought the house. Family named Ferguson. Strangers to me, but your uncle George knows them. It was a successful trip.”

  In the kitchen, Henry leaned back in his chair with a look of satisfaction. “I’m glad to be home. I missed your cookin’, Polly. George’s wife, Myra, tries, but she don’t have the years behind her that you got.”

  “You gave that compliment with one hand and took it back with the other,” Luke teased.

  “Now, I didn’t mean—”

  “I’ll take a compliment any way I can get it,” Polly said. “Cookin’ is one thing I’m good at, and I’m glad I got a family that enjoys it. How’d you like the train ride?”

  “Have to say it was a mite bit easier travelin’ than the first trip I made out here,” Henry admitted. “Didn’t run into any rattlers and didn’t have to get my own meals. Don’t know as I’d want to spend two weeks livin’ in a passenger train, though.”

  “I’m glad to have you all back,” Luke told him. “Simon was a big help, but he don’t take the place of a man. Has Ethan said any more about goin’ to school?”

  “Nope. He spent some time out on the Boncoeur place with Bert, but he never mentioned school.”

  “Just as well,” Luke said. “He’ll have his own place to run when he gets older. The experience’ll do him more good than book learnin’.”

  When July arrived, it was extremely hot and dry.

  “I declare, even the springhouse feels like an oven.” Polly pushed her wet hair back from her face and fanned herself with her apron. “That wind could peel the skin right off your arms. Don’t know what we’d do without the summer kitchen. Scarce any point in buildin’ a fire out there, though. The bread’ll bake on top of the stove.”

  Henry and Luke splashed water over their heads when they came in for supper.

  “There weren’t no cool place to work out there today,” Luke said. “Thought for a while I might not make it.”

  “If you hadn’t sent Alice and Simon out with lemonade, neither one of us would’ve made it,” Henry said. “I can’t remember the last three summers bein’ this hot.”

  “They never been any different out here,” Polly told him. “You can see the heat poppin’ up off the ground. I’m afraid everything is gonna shrivel up and die, including us.”

  The men sat down to eat the cold supper Polly had prepared. Ham slices, potato salad, baked beans, pickles, fresh bread, and tomatoes would ordinarily be a welcome summer meal. Tonight, however, Luke just pushed the food around his plate.

  “Too hot to eat,” he said when Polly mentioned it to him. “Guess I’ll go out to the bunkhouse and shuck these clothes.”

  Henry and Polly both watched him leave.

  Polly’s brow was furrowed with concern. “Ain’t nothin’ ever separated Luke from his meal before he was done with it, even if he had to take it with him.”

  “I’ll try to get him to go down to the creek and cool off,” Henry said. “It was pretty hot out there today.”

  The next morning, Henry entered the kitchen alone. “Luke says he’s gonna rest a few minutes more. Then he’ll be in. But I dunno. He don’t look good to me.”

  Polly dropped her spoon in alarm. “Rest a minute? Luke? He’s too stubborn to lie down, even if he was near dead. He must be sick.” She placed Henry’s breakfast before him, then headed for the bunkhouse.

  Ethan was walking toward her from the barn.

  “Luke didn’t help with the milkin’ this morning?” she asked.

  “No,” Ethan replied. “We told him we’d do it. He tried to get up, but I don’t think he feels too good. I was going to see if he was coming to breakfast.”

  Polly was becoming more worried by the minute. “You go on in and eat. I’ll see to Luke.”

  At the door she called to him.

  The answer was weak but determined. “I’m comin’, Polly. Don’t get yourself in a knot.” There was silence for a moment, then, “Well, mebbe I ain’t. Think I’ll stay here a bit. You go on back to your kitchen. I’ll be fine.”

  “I ain’t goin’ back till I see what’s ailing you, Luke.” Polly stomped into the room and stood at the foot of Luke’s bunk. “Why, you’re in the same clothes you had on last night!” She proceeded to strip the shirt off his back, and Luke hadn’t enough strength to resist. “Now, where’s your nightshirt?”

  At this, Luke showed more life. “I ain’t puttin’ on no nightshirt in the morning! And if I do, no woman’s gonna help me with it!”

  The energy needed to make that declaration was more than Luke had to spare. His head dropped back on the pillow, and his eyes closed. Polly found the garment in question, and Luke was soon lying in a straightened bed with a cold, wet cloth on his forehead.

  “If you ’spect to live out your natural days, you’re gonna have to let a woman take care of a few things,” Polly commanded. “Now don’t you move from there. I’m sendin’ Henry for the doctor. You’re a sick man.”

  When young Dr. Timothy Flynn arrived, he agreed with Polly. “Breakbone fever,” he said. “It’ll take a while to get over it. He’ll need good nursing.”

  “I can’t spend my days runnin’ ’tween here and the house,” Polly decided. “Is this stuff likely to go through the family?”

  The doctor shook his head. “No. It’s the result of an insect bite. If you keep mosquito netting around the beds, it likely won’t spread to the others.”

  Chad and Henry were able to get Luke to the house. Manda set up a bed in the parlor, and the room was forbidden to the children.

  “Should be out there workin’,” Luke muttered weakly when Polly brought soup to him.

  “You ain’t needed out there to watch the wheat grow,” Polly told him. “You’ll be needed to harvest it, so lie still and get well.”

  “Ain’t never been this sick before. Feels like my legs is gonna drop off and my back is broke. How long’s this stuff s’posed to last?”

  “Quite a while, the doc says. But he never knowed anybody to die from it.”

  “Don’t know whether that’s good news or not,” Luke groaned. “Seems like it might be better to be put out of my misery.”

  Henry came to visit him in the evening. “We sprayed the bunkhouse and put screens on the windows. Too bad we didn’t think about doin’ it before you got sick.”

  “You think the Lord is punishin’ me for saying I’d take my chances on livin’ long enough to get right with Him?”

  “Nope. That ain’t the way He works. He’s merciful, and He’s givin’ you more time to straighten things out. Won’t hurt you none to think it over while you can’t do nothin’ else.”

  Luke had determined to do just that, but it was hard to keep his mind on anything when the fever rose and every bone in his body felt broken. Manda and Polly kept him supplied with cold drinks and ice chips, as well as cool cloths for his head. The days all seemed the same as one week passed, and then two.

  When he finally tried to sit up in bed, Luke discovered that he had no strength to do so. “I’m worse’n Alice’s rag doll,” he complained. “The fever sure did take the stuffin’ out of me.”

  While the women looked after Luke, Henry and Ethan took care of the chores and the field work, along with Chad, who rode out to check on his sheep and cattle that grazed on the prairie. In the evenings, Chad seemed preoccupied with his account books and papers and seldom entered into family conversations or activities.

  Ethan’s visit with Bert had increased his determination to attend school in the fall. When it became clear that Luke was indeed getting better, Ethan penned a letter to his friend.

  July 15, 1912

  Dear Bert,

  Luke has been very sick, so I haven’t told Pa that I plan to leave as soon as t
he crops are in. I’ll ask him for the money I’ve earned and come as soon as I can, probably by the end of September. I’ll stay until April, when it’s time for spring planting.

  Ethan

  The problem of how to mail the letter was solved for him the following day at lunchtime.

  “I need some things from town,” his ma said. “We also have to get more medicine from the doctor’s office for Luke. I can’t take the time to go in and leave Polly with everything to do.”

  “I’ll go, Mama,” Frances offered. “Alice can keep me company. It won’t take long in the new buggy.”

  As soon as lunch was over, Ethan followed her to the springhouse. “Frances, will you take my letter to town? I’d like it to get to Bert right away.”

  She nodded. “Not a problem.”

  The next morning Frances tucked Ethan’s letter into her bag, and she and Alice were on the way before the sun had climbed far above the horizon.

  She listened to Alice’s chatter, but Frances had her mind on other important matters. She hadn’t told her mother that she had business of her own in town and had been waiting for an opportunity to go without having to answer questions about her errands. She intended to visit Elaine Flynn, the doctor’s wife. Mrs. Flynn had been friendly to her, and Frances felt that she could confide in her.

  Leaving Alice to look in the shop windows and play on the town green, Frances promised to return for her within the hour, then turned her steps toward the doctor’s home.

  “I would like to teach school here in Winner this fall,” Frances said. “Do you think there’s a chance that I could get the job?”

  “They’re talking with several people about taking the teaching position,” Elaine told her. “I suggest that you put your name on the list, and the school board will interview you.” She smiled at Frances and patted her hand. “I’m sure you would make a wonderful teacher. Does your father approve of your applying for the position?”

  “I haven’t talked with him about it yet,” Frances admitted. “Everyone has been so worried over Luke that there hasn’t been time. But if you think there may be a chance, I’ll do it right away.”

  All the way home Frances rehearsed what she would say to Papa. After all, she was going on eighteen and had proven herself a responsible young lady. Actually, she thought, there might be more trouble persuading Mama that she was ready to leave home. Mama depended upon Frances to help with the younger children. While she didn’t object to that responsibility, Frances felt that she was old enough to be out on her own by fall. At least she wanted to try it.

  The weeks that Luke had been ill were the hardest for Henry. It wasn’t only that he had extra work to do, but he was concerned about his friend. When it seemed there was a possibility that Luke might not survive the terrible fever, Henry prayed daily that the Lord would spare him and turn his life around. Luke was a good man, but he didn’t profess faith in Christ, and this was a source of worry for Henry.

  When, during the past week, Luke had asked forgiveness and said that he would dedicate the remainder of his life to the Lord, Henry was happy and relieved. He visited with the older man each evening after supper and encouraged him to pray and read the Bible.

  One evening Henry went in to talk with Luke while Ethan finished his pie at the kitchen table.

  “Where does Henry go every night?” Ethan asked Polly.

  “He’s right there in the parlor with Luke,” Polly replied. “I wouldn’t call that goin’ anywhere.”

  “He doesn’t stay in there till midnight.”

  Polly eyed the boy sharply. “Henry don’t go no place else till midnight, except to bed.”

  Ethan shook his head. “He hasn’t been coming to bed early. I’ve seen him take Winnie and ride out toward town.”

  “You mean he goes someplace on the horse in the evenings?”

  “Yep.”

  “And he never says where he’s been?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, what do you know! Henry ain’t never been underhanded, so he ain’t sneakin’ away. With so much extra activity at the house with Luke ill, I guess I been too busy to notice what’s goin’ on. I reckon Henry’s got himself a girl somewhere ’tween here and town.”

  “A girl? You mean like Amelia over at the Porters’?”

  Polly slapped her hand down on the table. “That’s the one! Now that you mention it, I seen him castin’ looks toward her at church. Did he sit with her at the last picnic?”

  “Yep, he did. There were other folks around, but they ate together.”

  “This is the first time I ever been the last to know when somethin’ like this was goin’ on,” Polly mourned. “‘Specially with Henry. Lookin’ after Luke has kept me too close to the house. What do you know ’bout that!”

  Polly lost no time approaching Henry on the subject.

  Yes, he admitted, he’d been seeing Amelia for some time. She was a right nice young lady, and he was planning to ask her to marry him.

  “I’m thinkin’ of arranging with Chad to build a little cabin on my section of land,” Henry told her. “I don’t want to go off and leave him. He’s been good to let Luke and me each get our own land and graze our own stock with his when we’re ready. Seems like a good time for me to do that.”

  Chapter Five

  Plans Postponed

  In the middle of August, Mr. Rush made another announcement.

  The family would move again to stake a claim for more land. This time the homestead was in Mexico.

  The evening sounds of the prairie whirled around the stunned group gathered on the porch of the big house. Luke had been brought out to enjoy the slightly cooler air in the early twilight. The others were gathered around, grateful for the approach of night after an oppressive day of heat in the field and the house.

  Now everyone stared at Mr. Rush in disbelief. He didn’t look at any of them but continued to study the piece of wood he was whittling.

  Finally Will broke the silence. “Where’s Mexico?”

  “Not in this world,” Polly declared. “If you got to take on more land, Chad, why couldn’t it be somewheres nearby, like Minnesota or North Dakota, or even Wyoming, where George is goin’?”

  “Papa! Why now?” Frances wailed.

  “How long have you been thinking on this?” Mrs. Rush’s voice sounded resigned. “Seems to me we’ve been picked up and moved enough for this lifetime.”

  “This may be our biggest chance for this lifetime,” Mr. Rush answered. “I’ve been hearing of it for some months, and the trip to Willow Creek settled my mind. Just wait until I tell you all about it before you start moaning.”

  “Are we all going, Papa?” Simon sounded anxious.

  Ethan understood how he felt. He recalled the day back in Willow Creek when Pa had announced that he was filing a claim in South Dakota. Ethan hadn’t known whether all the Coopers would be included. Were he and his sister and brothers really a part of the family? It had taken a long time to be absolutely sure that they were accepted after being hustled around from one place to another so many times.

  “Yes,” Mr. Rush answered. “Everyone but Henry.”

  Mrs. Rush gasped. “Not Henry? Why ever not?”

  “I’ll let him tell you about that.”

  Henry grinned and blushed. “Well, it seems the Lord might’ve worked things out just right. I want to get married as soon as I can, and when I asked Chad about puttin’ up a cabin or stayin’ in the soddy till I could build us a place on my section, he offered to let us stay in the house till you come back.”

  “You can’t run this place by yourself,” Polly said. “I know them range animals don’t take daily care, but the barn stock is more than you can handle alone. Not to mention my garden and the wheat and corn.”

  “Won’t do it by myself,” Henry replied. “Amelia’s brothers will come to
hold the bunkhouse down. We can hire day help when we need it. Amelia’s a good cook, too. ’Course not as good as you, Polly,” he hastened to add, “but we won’t starve.”

  Polly settled back in her chair and glanced at Luke. “What are you grinnin’ about, Luke Hawley? I guess this suits you just fine, don’t it? You’ve had an itchy foot ever since you scared your ma to death walkin’ into town when you was only three years old.”

  “Yep, I’m real pleased. I’ve always wanted to see a foreign land.”

  Will had been listening to all the conversation, but now it seemed he came to the end of his patience. “Well, where is Mexico?”

  “It’s four states directly south of us,” Frances told him. “Farther than you’ve ever been before. When are we going, Papa?”

  “Soon as the wheat and hay are in. Several families from Willow Creek are making up a caravan to go together. They’ll be glad to have a teacher for their children, I’ve no doubt.”

  “I hope they’re prepared to pay me,” Frances added. “I could possibly have a school in Winner if I were going to be here.”

  Mr. Rush looked at her as if surprised. “I guess you’re right. They should pay a little for regular lessons. We’ll talk it over.”

  Ethan had said nothing. He sat on the steps and stared off across the prairie. Why should his plans for school be abandoned? He would be fourteen years old in November, and he did as much work as any man on the place. Pa had said he could make his own decision. When it was time to leave, he would simply tell the family that he was going to Kansas.

  Somehow the thought didn’t make him as happy as it should have. Somewhere in his mind, he could hear Ma saying, “Take care of the little ones, Ethan. I’m trusting you to be responsible.” And another voice, that of Matron Daly at Briarlane, also echoed. “The Lord will lead you where you should go if you trust Him.”

  Ethan looked at Alice and Will and Simon. What dangers might they meet in a strange place and not have him to turn to? Would a year of school be worth it if anything happened to one of them, and he wasn’t there?