Whistle-Stop West

by Arleta Richardson

  “Boncoeur. ‘Good heart.’ That’s a lovely name. Takes some living up to, doesn’t it?”

  Hannah warmed a bit to her visitor. Ruth was blunt, but perhaps she could be a good friend.

  “May I ask why you call your husband by his last name?” Hannah had inquired politely.

  Ruth threw her head back and laughed heartily. “Yes, but you must never let on that I told you. His given name is Aloysius, and he hates it! Can’t say as I blame him. He said he wouldn’t have married me if I’d been called Hepzibah or some other impossible New England name. He likes things plain and simple.”

  The women had laughed together over this, and from there on, conversation came easily. When it was time for Ruth to leave, they were good friends and promised to see each other as often as possible.

  Hannah walked with Ruth to the wagon, and before her guest left, she asked the question that had been bothering her. “Why do you think I’m impractical?”

  Ruth had looked down at Hannah’s apron. “The bright colors. Most women coming west brought grays or browns because they tend not to show the soil so badly. I can see, though, that you’d die out here without color. It’s right for you.”

  If Ruth thought I was being impractical, she’ll think Carl is impossible, Hannah reflected and chuckled to herself. She hurried to get the biscuits from the oven as she heard her handsome, irrepressible husband heading toward the doorway singing at the top of his voice.

  “I dream of Hannah, with the light-brown hair—”

  Carl bounded down the stairs, grabbed Hannah around the waist, and whirled her about the room in time with his music.

  “Carl! Behave yourself! I’m all ready for the trip to town, and you’re going to make me have to comb my hair again!”

  “Oh, you love it. You know you do. Isn’t this a glorious day? Let’s thank the Lord for it.”

  They sat down at the table and bowed their heads.

  “Lord, this day is ours only by Your mercy. It is Yours to guide and direct. It may be one of the most important days of our lives, because we’re going to bring a child into our home. We trust You have the one for us coming this way right now. Prepare us to accept this child, and the child to accept us. We want to bring this little one up in Your love and favor. Thank You for this day and for this food. Amen.”

  Carl’s eyes sparkled as he ladled sausage gravy over his biscuits and poured cream into his coffee. “If the train is on time, we shouldn’t have long to wait when we get to town. Adopting a child is like having one of your own, except we know he or she is coming at a decent time. Boy or a girl? Brown eyes or blue? I can hardly wait to see!”

  Hannah smiled, but she was troubled. “I hope we’re doing the right thing, Carl. Is it fair to take a child from a big city to this desolate spot where all you can see is prairie grass and sky? Won’t a little one be terribly lonely?”

  “I brought you from a big city to this desolate spot,” Carl reminded her. “Aren’t you happy?”

  “You know I am. I love the open spaces and our home. And I have you.”

  “The child will have us. You know we thought and prayed about this before we agreed to take an orphan. The Lord has the right one for us, I’ve no doubt.”

  Any child would be fortunate to have you for a father, Hannah thought as she watched Carl finish his breakfast. She had no reason to worry.

  The sky was clear with morning light as they followed the North Loup River south toward Willow Creek and the next milestone in their lives.

  Ethan awoke in the night to hear the lonesome whoo, whoo as the Orphan Train apparently passed some little town or a road that crossed the tracks. Somehow the sound echoed louder and stayed in the air longer out here on the prairie.

  On the seat facing his, Bert slept soundly. Across the aisle, Simon and Will didn’t move. Ethan wasn’t sure why he had awakened, but he remembered immediately that Riley was no longer there in the front of the car. He felt sad. The boys had depended on Riley to know just what to do and how to get around in strange places. They had talked it over the night before.

  “I wonder if Riley will be able to sleep tonight in a railroad car that isn’t moving,” Bert had said. “I think I’m going to figure that something’s wrong if I wake up and my bed is still.”

  “Me too,” Ethan agreed. “It seems like we’ve been on this train forever.” He scanned the nearly empty coach. “Remember when this place was full? Do you suppose all those guys are enjoying their new homes?”

  Bert had looked out the window at the bright stars. “They can see the same stars we can. Makes you think maybe we didn’t leave them so far behind. When we get lonesome for each other, we can look at the sky.” He was silent for a moment, then answered Ethan’s question. “Yeah, they’ll enjoy them. Every place is about the same. You just have to get used to the people.”

  “If we both get left in Willow Creek, maybe we’ll go to the same school,” Ethan had said. “That way we’ll see each other every day. Do you suppose our folks will be acquainted?”

  Charles Glover must have awakened at the boys’ questions, for his voice broke in. “Willow Creek is the only place to come for mail and supplies, so chances are they will. Of course, for some homesteaders it can be a half-day’s trip to get to town, so they may not go often. Some children out on the prairie are taught at home.”

  It was hard to imagine what the future held. Ethan, thinking it over in the night, couldn’t picture what lay ahead for himself and the others. He believed what Matron said, though, about the Lord going with them. Very soon he was asleep again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A New Life Ahead

  The view from the window in the morning hadn’t changed a lot from yesterday evening. The land was flat, and today the sky was cloudless. As Matron prepared breakfast, she noticed that Simon was staring, transfixed, at the passing scene.

  “Those are sure funny-looking cows out there,” he said finally.

  The others went to look.

  “I don’t think those are cows,” Bert replied. “Their heads are too big, and they have long hair.”

  “Buffalo,” Charles Glover explained when they called him to look. “They usually run in herds, so there are more around here somewhere.”

  “Do the farmers own them?” Ethan wanted to know.

  “No, they run wild out here. The prairie is covered with ‘buffalo grass.’ It’s called that because it’s what the animals feed on. People hunt them, though. Buffalo have thick, tough hides that make good carriage robes and moccasins. The Indians use every part of the buffalo for something. Some of the animals are even tamed and used to work on farms.”

  “Hey, I’d like to ride a buffalo,” Bert said. “But they don’t look like they’d move very fast.”

  “They don’t now,” Charles told him, “but if you ever saw a herd stampede, you’d see how fast they move. You wouldn’t want to be in the way.”

  “I don’t want to be in the way of even one of them,” Ethan decided. “I hope there aren’t any on the farm we’ll be living on.”

  “There probably won’t be,” Charles reassured him. “Chances are Mr. Rush works his place with horses, just the way they did at Briarlane.”

  “I don’t even know that I’ll be on a farm, do I?” Bert said. “I might live right in town, like Arthur and Shala do. It’s kind of exciting not to know. Maybe I’m glad I don’t.”

  Charles looked at his watch. “You’ll know before too long. We should be in Willow Creek very soon. Do you all have your things together?”

  Matron helped put their belongings in the bags they carried, and they went through their last scrubbing and brushing at her hands.

  “Tomorrow my new mama will braid my hair,” Alice said, “but she won’t do it as good as you.” She turned and hugged Matron tightly. “Can’t you come and live there too?”

 
; Matron held Alice close, and her eyes filled with tears. “The boys and girls back at Briarlane still need me. Your new mama will love you and take care of you just as I do. Besides, you’ll have a new papa, too.”

  “I had a papa once,” Alice replied. “I didn’t like him much. But I’ll try to like this one,” she added quickly.

  “Of course you will,” Matron said. “Your new folks and your big sister can’t help but love all of you. Just remember what you’ve learned about Jesus. You can always pray to Him, no matter where you are. Now, you look fine.” Matron patted the hair bow she’d just tied for Alice, and then turned her attention to Will.

  This one will be spoiled, she thought. He is a handsome little boy and still young enough to be trusting of anyone who cares for him.

  Indeed, Matron knew, Will was happily unaware that his life was about to enter a new era. As long as his beloved sister and brothers were there, he would have no fear of the future.

  The big house south of Willow Creek was alive with activity early in the morning. The hired girl, Polly, had gotten up before daybreak to get the fires going.

  Polly could hardly be accurately described as a “girl,” since she was every minute as old as Manda Rush. Neither, as she told her ma on her infrequent days off, was she “hired” for much.

  “If it wasn’t that we had to have money for you, I’d quit that place in a hurry. Her highness thinks that if she gives me her worn-out clothes, I’m well paid. I work as hard as the men do, and I know she doesn’t pay me all the mister gives her for my wages.”

  Polly gave another vicious shake to the kitchen range and grumbled to herself. “Four more children to look after. I’d think one lazy young ’un around here would be plenty. What are we starting here … an orphanage? Four times more work and no more pay.”

  Her muttered complaints carried to the hired men, Luke and Henry, as they washed up in the tin basin.

  “One of ’em is a gal, ain’t she? Maybe you can get some help in the kitchen,” Luke suggested.

  “Hmmph,” Polly snorted. “How much help can you get from a six- or seven-year-old?” She paused with a spatula in the air. “Come to think of it, I was working in the kitchen when I was that age. Peeled vegetables and slopped the hogs and took care of the chickens. Maybe she could be useful. Never will get that good-for-nothing Frances to do anything on the place.”

  The men sat down at the table and accepted the huge stack of flapjacks and platter of ham and eggs set before them. Henry bowed his head and prayed silently while Luke shoveled the food into his mouth with vigor.

  “The oldest boy can soon get into the milking and weeding.” Luke poured syrup on his plate and sopped it up with a flapjack. “The rest of ’em’s too young to be much good.”

  “Maybe they’ll bring a little happiness to the place,” Henry suggested. “Been pretty quiet around here since Robbie passed.”

  “Quiet for you,” Polly said, “but it ain’t been quiet in here. ‘Polly, do this. Polly, come and help me. Isn’t that finished yet, Polly?’ Regular slave driver, the missus is. I don’t see much advantage to adding four more to this kettle.”

  Out in the barnyard, Chad Rush was closing the gate on the last of the milk cows. He paused to watch as they ambled toward the pasture, then let his gaze shift to the horizon. Land as far as he could see in any direction belonged to him. As he watched the sky lighten in the east, he imagined that he could hear a train whistle. He couldn’t, of course. But he knew exactly when the train would come through Willow Creek today, and he knew what it brought to him.

  If only he and Manda could agree on something and work together, life would be easier. Manda had many good points, he supposed, but on matters of child rearing, the two of them were far apart. His wife was short-tempered, and her patience almost nonexistent. If a child disobeyed or annoyed her, punishment was swift. On the other hand, if Manda felt life was going her way and she was in a good mood, the same behavior brought no punishment. Little Robbie had learned to sidestep the bad moods and take advantage of the good ones.

  As he walked slowly toward the house, Chad admitted to himself that his attitude toward children was the same as his father’s had been toward him. It hadn’t been easy growing up under the heavy hand of the older man, but he was the better for it. As Chad looked around the neat farm with its well-cared-for buildings, he recalled the strappings he had endured before he learned to do a job well, and without complaining.

  What age was the oldest boy coming today? Eight? Nine? Not too young to begin training in the way he should go. From past experience Chad knew that Manda wouldn’t allow him to discipline the younger boys, especially not the baby. But they would grow up in time.

  Chad splashed water on his face and ran wet hands though his hair. He knew his Christian duty, and he would do it. “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it,” the Good Book said. Chad was living proof that this was an accurate proverb, and he intended to begin at once to show these children the importance of obedience.

  In the kitchen, Manda was helping Polly get breakfast on the table, but her loud complaints were directed toward Frances.

  “You’re the one who absolutely had to have a sister, and now you don’t want her in your room! Where do you expect her to sleep—in the barn?”

  “There’s enough rooms in this house so everyone can have their own,” Frances replied. “She isn’t even half my age. She’d be into my things all the time.”

  “Every child in their own room? And just who is going to wash all that extra bedding, missy?”

  “Polly.”

  A sudden thud of the skillet on the stovetop expressed the opinion of that listener, and Manda glanced at Polly’s stormy-looking face. “Polly will have enough to do without cleaning extra rooms,” Manda told Frances. “You have no idea how much more work four children will be.” She cast a stern look at her daughter. “It wouldn’t hurt you to take on a little of it.”

  “You forget that I have to go to school and study and practice my organ lessons. How much time do you think I have, anyway?”

  “Now, look here—” Manda began, but she was interrupted by the slam of the back screen door.

  “Frances, don’t argue with your mother,” Chad said.

  “She thinks I should let that girl share my room,” Frances complained.

  “You’re the one who said you wanted a sister,” Chad reminded her. “You insisted on taking all four children.”

  “The director of the home said we had to take them all,” the girl answered sullenly. “I wanted the little one to take Robbie’s place. I don’t care about the others. You can give them to someone else.”

  “There, see?” Manda couldn’t hide her triumph. “I told you what would happen if you gave in to her every whim. I knew you’d pay for it one day. Well, it seems that day has come.”

  Chad ignored her and answered Frances. “If we turn the others over to someone else, we’ll lose the little one too. You’d better make up your mind before we get to town.”

  “I’ll think of something,” Frances declared. “They better stay out of my way if they all come here.”

  As Chad finished his breakfast, he contemplated the days that lay ahead. He hadn’t yet mentioned to Manda or Frances that he’d filed a record on the land in South Dakota. They would be required to live on it for a year and cultivate the property. He’d intended to tell Manda his plans before now, but the time just hadn’t been right. Yet he also knew that the longer he waited, the greater the furor would be. As soon as the business of this day was over, he’d do it.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Long-Awaited Day Arrives

  Ethan and Bert sat down to wait for the end of the trip. Both were busy with their thoughts.

  At last Ethan opened his bag and pulled out his drawing book. “Here, Bert. I want you to
have this to remember me. You can show the pictures to your folks and tell them about where you came from.”

  Bert’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Ethan with wide eyes. “Your drawing book? What will you do without it? It’s the best thing you have!”

  “That’s all right. I really want you to have it. Maybe I’ll get another one. If not, I can draw in the dirt, like I used to. I’ll always probably draw on something.” He handed the book to Bert and settled back with a happy smile.

  “I’ll always keep it, Ethan, and someday we’ll live close enough together to share it. I don’t have anything great like that to give you, but you can have this.”

  Bert stood and dug deep in his pocket. He pulled out a chain, from which dangled a heavy key, and laid it in Ethan’s hand. “This was my pa’s,” Bert said proudly. “He told me that praying is the key to success, and this key would remind me of that when I need help. Now it’s yours. Who knows when you’ll have to get in someplace or out of someplace? That key could come in handy.”

  Ethan looked at the object in his hand. “A key? Have you ever opened anything with it, Bert?”

  “Well, no. I never found a door it would fit, but it feels good in your pocket. And Pa said if I carried it, I’d never give up, ’cause it would remind me to pray.”

  “And you want me to have it?” Ethan said. “What will you have to remind you, then?”

  Bert shrugged. “If you can draw pictures in the dirt, I can remember by putting my hand in my pocket.” He pulled the checkerboard out of his bag. “How ’bout a game? The time will go faster that way.”

  Luke and Henry stood at the barn door as the Rushes’ buggy turned on the road toward town.

  Luke shook his head. “’Fraid we’re all going to rue this day’s work. Don’t know what possessed Chad to take on four orphans.”