by Prairie Song
“Stay?” Mutter slid her hand down to Anna’s arm and squeezed. “Why wouldn’t you?”
To police you. Anna swallowed her first answer and then forced her concerns down. Of course, Mutter was tired. And, really, these were her friends, not Mutter’s. “If you’re sure.”
Mutter looked from Hattie to Caroline to Lorelei, then back to Anna. “I’m sure. You stay and enjoy yourself. Enjoy your friends.”
“All right.” Anna drew in a fortifying breath. “I’ll be along shortly to help with supper.”
When Mutter closed the door behind her, Anna rejoined her friends at the stools.
Caroline patted Anna’s hand and smiled. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Hattie set her hat on the counter between them. “I’m glad too.”
“This will do you good, Anna.” Lorelei looked at her and smiled. “We’re all glad you decided to stay.”
Anna nodded, trying her best to be glad.
The proprietor carried tin cups to the barrel and looked up at the whiskey bottles on the shelf overhead. “Don’t get much call for genteel drinks here.”
Anna fought the lump forming in her throat. She was either going to trust Mutter—to trust God with Mutter—or she was not. Still, she couldn’t help but be thankful Mutter wasn’t here right now. She didn’t need the temptation.
Her soda came in a tin mug. Taking her first sip, Anna allowed herself to relax. The settlement wasn’t big enough for anyone to get lost or into much trouble. Besides, Großvater and Boney would both look out for Mutter.
Anna glanced at her friends. “It’s not lemonade on Mrs. Brantenberg’s porch, but it’s good that at least a few of us can be together.”
“I remember those chats.” Caroline ran her fingertip around the top of her cup. “And I remember what Elsa used to say when I was waiting for news about Phillip.”
Hattie raised her finger as the leader of the quilting circle had. “Worry is something the devil will use against us.”
Anna nodded. “To distract us from the truth.”
Caroline cleared her throat as Elsa Brantenberg would do. “God is in control, not us.”
They all fell silent as they raised their drinks for a sip.
Hattie pressed a fingertip to the corner of one eye. “I miss her and Emilie and Jewell—all of them.”
Caroline nodded. “I’m anxious for word from them.”
“Have you written Jewell to tell her of the upcoming nuptials?”
“I wrote her about my horseback rides with the captain, but not about the result yet.” Caroline quirked an eyebrow in a coy grin.
Hattie set her tin cup on the counter. “Once you and the captain wed, you may wish to, uh, change your living arrangements.”
After Mutter had brought up the subject of where Caroline and the captain would live once they married, Anna had considered offering to take Caroline’s place as the Kamdens’ nanny. She’d immediately dismissed the thought, however, well aware she had her hands full caring for Mutter and Großvater.
“We’ve talked about it.” A blush colored Caroline’s face and reached her red hairline. “Me and Rhoda.”
Lorelei swiveled on her stool. Leaning forward, she looked at Caroline. “How is Rhoda faring? I heard the pain was back again last night.”
Caroline nodded. “Yes. Sadly, it seems more frequent. She hasn’t eaten well the past couple of days.”
“And she’s not pregnant?”
“She and Dr. Le Beau both insist she is not.” Caroline brushed stray curls into her bonnet. “Dr. Le Beau recommended Rhoda see a doctor at Fort Kearney. He said a surgeon might even be necessary.”
“Oh dear.” Lorelei shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Garrett and I talked about postponing the wedding, but Rhoda wouldn’t hear of it.”
“She doesn’t want to interfere with your happiness.” Lorelei lifted her cup to her mouth and faced Hattie. “I’m sorry for the interruption. You were saying?”
Hattie smiled. “My mother and I talked, and I could take over as nanny for the Kamdens, if they’d like me to.”
A grin brightened Caroline’s face. “As it happens, your name came up in my conversation with Rhoda. I suggested you might be a good replacement, and she thought you would do well with the children and her mother-in-law.”
“Wonderful! Perhaps we could talk to Rhoda when we return to camp.” Hattie tilted her head and sighed. “If she’s feeling up to it.”
Anna glanced toward the open front door, looking out at the dusty road. Mutter had surely found Großvater by now, and they were on their way back to camp.
At least that was what she had to hope. She couldn’t be Mutter’s keeper, try as she might. Mutter’s well-being was between her and God. All Anna could hope to do was pray for her and love her.
Caleb sat astride a fallen tree with the wagon’s tack laid across his lap. He let out a deep breath. He should’ve gone into Rock Creek. It might have afforded him an opportunity to talk to Anna. If nothing else, he could’ve helped her keep watch on her mother. He wanted to go, if only to make sure the peddler wasn’t anywhere near the place. But Anna had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Besides, Otto and Boney had both accompanied the women. He would have only been in the way.
He dipped the rag into the neat’s-foot oil and spread it onto the leather. The changes he’d seen in Wilma Goben since he pulled her from the river and sat with her in the draw were stark, almost day and night.
Come to think of it, the change in Anna had been just as drastic, and around the same time. More than two weeks had passed since she’d quit speaking to him. Outside of the obligatory niceties, anyway. Unless he counted her indignation that day he’d found her on the hillock and interrupted her thinking time, and then the following Saturday, during the evening music. Since that awful day at the river, he hadn’t even caught her looking at him during the morning Bible reading the way she used to. And she didn’t speak one word to him when she found him and Mrs. Kamden at the graveside.
More importantly, Anna had lost interest in listening to him.
On the hillock, she claimed she wasn’t embarrassed by her need to be rescued. Wasn’t embarrassed knowing he’d seen her toss a bottle into the fire or witnessed her mother’s behavior. During their very few dance steps Saturday night, she said she wasn’t angry with him, but at herself.
None of it made sense. He would’ve guessed Anna had learned the truth about the raid at Centralia, but she couldn’t know. He was the only person alive who knew what had truly happened there. He’d talked to her mother some, but hadn’t told her any of that. No, it was most likely she felt guilty about her mother’s behavior and was all the more determined to look after her.
Either way, it didn’t seem he could do anything but wait. And hope the feelings Anna had for him the day they kissed were still there and would one day surface again.
He prayed it would be soon.
He’d just stretched the harness out on the log to dry in the sun, when he heard horses approaching and looked up. Wilma Goben sat atop a borrowed chestnut, looking every bit fine. Boney and Otto rode on either side of her. Where was Anna? It wasn’t like her not to be at her mother’s side.
“Caleb.” Boney waved his hat toward the harness. “You get my work done for me, did ya?”
“You know me better than that.” Caleb looked at Anna’s family. “Otto. Ma’am. How did you find Rock Creek?”
“A very well-named town. About all there was to it.” Otto chuckled. “A rock and a creek.”
“You’re forgetting about the lumber mill and the general store.” Wilma turned toward Caleb and smiled. “That’s where Anna is. She stayed behind to enjoy a sarsaparilla with her friends.”
“Oh?” The word came out as a question. He could have been knocked over with a feather right then. Anna had actually done something for her own enjoyment.
“I was surprised too,” Otto said. “They won’t be far behind us. The captain,
Arvin, and Tiny are in town to see to ’em.”
Perhaps it was a good sign that Anna was feeling comfortable letting her mother go—to get out from under the dark cloud that had settled over her. A good sign that she might soon be ready to talk to him again. To listen to him.
Right now, he’d settle for a smile.
41
Anna looked up at the crescent moon set in the graying sky. She breathed in the cool evening air and rode Molasses past the grouping of wagons. Großvater waved to her from the back of Ian Kamden’s Conestoga where he was helping to grease a wheel.
Mutter had been right—it had done her good to enjoy some refreshment with friends. There wasn’t much to Rock Creek, so it wasn’t the place that did her so much good, but the company. Even lukewarm, the sarsaparilla was a welcome treat after so many weeks on the road.
All the while, Mutter had been back here cooking the stew and baking fresh biscuits. Anna needed to help and catch Mutter up on the news from her friends. She guided her horse around a gaggle of children playing stickball.
At their camp, Anna stepped down from the stirrup and tethered Molasses to the tongue at the front of their wagon. She looked around. Three empty stools framed the worktable. Carrots and potatoes lay peeled but not cut. Water boiled in the dutch oven, which hung above a dying fire.
“Mutter?”
Had she gone to the stream for water? Or maybe into the wagon to lie down while she waited for Anna’s help?
Anna climbed the wheel spokes. She had no sooner reached the wagon seat when the bitter stench of liquor assaulted her senses.
How? Mutter didn’t have any left in the wagon. How had she gotten her hands on more? She’d left the general store without it. Mutter wouldn’t have gone and found a saloon … not with so many from camp right there.
Why had Anna trusted her? She shouldn’t have. She needed to get the liquor away from Mutter before the captain found out about it.
Anna scrambled over the seat and in through the canvas opening. A half-empty bottle of amber liquid lay on the floor. “Where did you get it, Mutter?”
Mutter lay in her hammock in one of her drunken stupors. She didn’t answer.
“Mutter!” Anna rose onto her tiptoes and nudged Mutter’s shoulder more abruptly than she should have. But she was tired of this. She’d believed Mutter had finally given up the drink. “Wake up!”
Mutter didn’t even stir.
Anna’s heart hammered in her chest as she laid her hand on Mutter’s cheek. Her skin was still warm, but waxy and damp. Heat raced up Anna’s neck into her face. “Mutter!”
She shook her.
“Wake up!” What was wrong? She’d seen Mutter in a drunken stupor countless times, but never this bad. Her gaze settled on Mutter’s chest. It wasn’t moving.
Terror clutching her, Anna pressed her fingers to Mutter’s wrist.
Nothing.
“What have you done?” Anna didn’t realize she’d yelled until she heard a commotion headed their way.
“It came from the Goben camp.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Get Otto!”
The sarsaparilla soured in Anna’s stomach. She couldn’t let them find Mutter like this. Couldn’t let them find the bottle. And what about the smell?
What would Mutter do?
Her hands shaking, Anna corked the bottle and shoved it into her own trunk. Then she yanked an onion from the hanging sack, dropped it between two barrels, and stomped on it.
Tears burned her eyes.
God help her, Mutter was dead.
And Anna was still trying to protect her.
Caleb glanced out at the road in the direction of Rock Creek. He’d lost count of how many times he’d done the same thing in the past hour.
“I like dominoes good enough.”
Caleb gripped his double-seven and looked up at Oliver Rengler, who sat across the table from him. It was a real good thing he wasn’t doing anything that required a lot of concentration. Between his rolling thoughts of Anna and Oliver’s love of gab, he wouldn’t stand a chance.
“It’s just that I miss playin’ checkers with ol’ Mister Heinrich. We talked about the river and Germany. And he always had somethin’ new to show me. Like a steroviewer.”
Caleb nodded. “We left a lot of good people behind in Saint Charles.” He opened his hand and played his sevens.
“Woo-weee.” A grin widened Oliver’s face. “I was hopin’ you’d play a seven. That’s all I needed to win you.”
“Again.” Caleb raised his hands in surrender. That was it for him. He’d seen Anna and the others ride into camp. Not that she’d be looking for him, but he might just decide to take a stroll that direction before supper.
“I’m real good at games. That’s what Owen says.”
“Well, your brother is right. And that’s the last trouncing for me today.” Caleb started stacking the tiles into their wooden box.
Oliver grabbed a handful of dominoes and made stacks on the table, then looked up at Caleb. “Did Madam-eezle Camille talk to you today?”
Caleb shook his head. “Was she supposed to?”
“I told her to tell you or the captain when she told me about her father’s pill case.”
“The doctor’s? What about it?”
“Well, it’s missing. She said they looked high and low for it.”
“So, she thinks someone stole his pill case?”
Oliver nodded, his chin practically brushing his coveralls. His head suddenly still, he opened his hands and raised them. “And I didn’t take it.”
“She said you did?”
“The Madam-eezle?” Oliver shook his head. “No. But Sally thinks I took all those things.”
As far as Caleb was concerned, Oliver’s sister-in-law and Emery Beck belonged in a camp of their own. “But you didn’t take any of it.”
“No sir. I like to look at nice things, but stealing is a sin. Says so in the Ten Commandments.”
“What have you done?”
Caleb’s spine stiffened. The shout belonged to Anna. He could tell that even in the distance.
Oliver’s bushy brows shot upward. “That was Miss Anna.”
“Yes.” Miss Anna very upset, which probably meant her mother had been drinking again. Caleb stood and grabbed his hat from the table.
“I’m coming too.” Oliver shuffled behind him. “I like Miss Anna.”
There was a good chance Wilma had snuck a bottle out of the general store. And this time, everyone in camp would know about it.
When he and Oliver arrived at the Gobens’ camp, Boney looked out through the pucker of canvas at the front of the wagon, through the gathering crowd, and straight at Caleb.
“It’s Wilma.” His voice quavered. “Get the doctor!”
Caleb darted to the Le Beaus’ cookfire and returned with the doctor and his daughter. When they stepped up into the Gobens’ wagon, Caleb waited at the edge of their camp with most of the Company. The sound of Anna crying inside the wagon foretold misfortune and tightened his chest.
Caroline and Mary Alice Brenner braced each other. Hattie stood with Maren Wainwright. Lorelei with her mother-in-law, Irene. All of Anna’s friends from the quilting circle. Sally and Owen Rengler stood off to the side, at a distance. Murmurs mixed with prayers buzzed about him until he thought his head might burst.
When Garrett stepped out over the seat, the crowd quieted. “Folks, it is with deep regret that I must announce very sad news. Mr. Otto Goben and Miss Anna have lost their beloved daughter and mother, Wilma, this evening.”
“Is it the plague?” Sally Rengler’s voice carried over the rising murmurs.
“Folks, there are no signs of an illness that could be considered contagious.” Garrett looked across the crowd, his hands out, palms down. “Now, out of respect for the bereaved, I ask that you all, except for Otto’s and Miss Anna’s close friends, return to your camps and go about your business.”
Caleb’s insides twis
ted. His guess was Anna’s mother had bought some rotgut. Trade whiskey.
And it was his fault.
He knew the problem she had. He also knew the power of its grip better than anyone who went to town with her. He should have protected her.
Now there was nothing he could do for any of the Gobens. Willing his legs to move, Caleb turned toward his camp.
“Caleb!”
Reluctantly, he looked over his shoulder as his boss walked toward him. “Bring Otto’s oxen up. You’ll go into town with him.”
Caleb shook his head. Not when it was his fault the man’s daughter was dead.
“You’re the right man,” Garrett said quietly.
“But, Boney—”
“Trust me.”
It didn’t seem he had a choice. Caleb swallowed the rest of his argument and nodded.
42
Caroline knelt in front of Anna. “You need to at least drink something, Anna.” She held out a steaming cup of black tea with a sprig of mint. Her poor friend sat on a mattress in Maren’s wagon, wrapped in the circle’s friendship quilt, her knees bent and her head bowed. Rutherford had taken Maren and Gabi to Mary Alice’s camp for supper.
Anna looked up, her eyes puffy, circled in red.
“You won’t feel like eating or doing much of anything for a while,” Caroline said, “but please try to drink this.”
Anna reached for the cup, her movements slow. “You shouldn’t be here. You have a joyful wedding to plan. You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”
“Mrs. Brantenberg was fond of saying, ‘Here in this quilting circle, none of us are alone. Not in our sorrows, nor in our triumphs.’ ” Caroline watched steam rise from the tea. “This is what friends … sister-friends do. What you did for me when I learned Phillip was dead.”
“Only Mutter’s death is my fault.”
“You did everything you could for her. Some things are out of our control.”
“I wanted to make her well.” Anna sniffled. “I thought I could.”
“I know.” Caroline glanced pointedly at the tea.
Anna raised the cup to her mouth. “My grandfather should’ve let me go with them.” Caleb had gone with Otto to drive Wilma’s lifeless body into Rock Creek. After one sip of tea, Anna lowered the cup to her lap. “I should be with my family. What’s left of it.” She took a short, sharp breath. “What if she wakes up? What if—”
