Seth told Katie that God put a special star in her eyes to light up the dark side of people. Every time she saw Emily toddle about on wobbly legs, it reminded her of holding on to God’s hand while she stepped out in faith.
“Katie, child, do you plan to read the whole Bible tonight?” Uncle Seth said one evening after she had read late into the night.
“Are you tired of my questions?”
“You haven’t asked me any for the past hour,” Seth said. “You must be preparing a hard one.”
“No, Uncle Seth.” She laughed. “I’m reading Psalms. Well, really I’m memorizing a few of the shorter ones.”
“Good,” he said. “Having God’s Word stored in your heart is the best guard against Satan.”
Aunt Elizabeth handed Katie a folded sheet of paper. “Here are the passages I promised you. The scriptures listed here have brought me through many difficult times in my life. It’s easy to turn to Psalms and praise God when life is good, but sometimes we need help when sorrow and grief seem to get the best of us.”
“Thank you,” Katie said, looking over the paper. “I’ll always treasure this.”
“It was given to me a long time ago when I had fallen into self-pity about Seth and me not having any children. I took to memorizing each one of those passages. God is so faithful. The adoption proceedings for Jacob and Emily are moving along just fine, and we are so blessed to have been a part of your acceptance of God’s grace.”
“I can see these verses will give me strength when Peyton is on patrol. I know God is watching over the soldiers, but I still feel anxious about them. When the soldiers are here, the feelings disappear. Then Colonel Ross dispatches another group, and I worry again.”
“Jeremiah 29 says: ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart,’ ” Aunt Elizabeth said. “Those words have always gotten me through the roughest of days.”
“We all tend to worry and fret over things we can’t control,” Uncle Seth said. “It’s a part of our nature. Elizabeth tells me that you delivered a loaf of bread to Mrs. Ames. I am so proud of you.”
Katie smiled. “She had become so critical and outspoken about Pa and our dealings with the Comanches that her disagreeable nature had almost become a game. Sometimes I guessed at what she would say next. You are the one who told me true obedience to God means doing those things that may not be pleasant. I’ve been trying to look at her through the eyes of Jesus, and it has helped.” Katie laughed. “Uncle, Mrs. Ames didn’t know what to say when I handed her the bread. She just took it and shut the door in my face.”
“But you did your part.” He reached down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, child. Don’t read too late. You need your rest.”
Katie read and reread those biblical passages giving specific instructions about putting matters of concern into the hands of the Father. Even so, she still felt apprehensive. She hadn’t seen or heard from the Kiowa, and she didn’t know if his absence came as a curse or a blessing. Aunt Elizabeth said God warned His children about trying to solve their own problems instead of giving it all to Him. She said folks just didn’t seem to listen when God knew what was best for them.
Martha added Jacob to her list of learners. When folks discovered Martha had once taught school, they asked to bring their own children. The parents paid her in food and chores while talk began of building a school. In the mornings, Katie finished helping Aunt Elizabeth so she could assist with the children’s lessons. The hours Pa had spent instructing Katie on how to read maps and live in the wild proved invaluable to Martha. The older woman used Katie’s knowledge as a reward for the boys when they proved reluctant to study.
As Lauren’s wedding day approached, Katie helped stitch linens and clothing to add to the bride’s trousseau. The girls grew closer and shared their heartfelt dreams about their own future families. Martha accused the two of giggling more than they worked, but she also encouraged them to spend time together.
Peyton visited the Colter cabin nearly every day. Katie never knew when he would come calling. Some days he arrived just before the children woke from their naps, and other days he came by in the evening. He always apologized for stopping by unannounced, and his visits were brief. She believed the short stays were due to her response toward his embrace. Had Peyton thought his touch was repugnant, when in fact she struggled with tender emotions? His presence brought on a whole new set of feelings, and it perplexed her more than she cared to admit. One thing she knew for certain—Peyton Sinclair was a good man, and she valued his friendship.
“Do you have a moment to talk?” he said one afternoon while the children slept.
Katie couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I do. Shall we step outside?”
He opened the door into sparkling sunshine. They sat on a bench in front of the cabin.
“I wanted to thank you for telling me about your childhood with the Comanches,” he said. “As a soldier, I tend to forget the Indians love and care for their families. It didn’t occur to me that they participate in games and enjoy life much like we do. You gave me a whole new perspective on why they hate the white man. We are a threat to everything they hold sacred.”
She valued his understanding. “I do have good memories, especially of Desert Fawn and how she took care of me after my mother died. I do regret that the Comanches don’t know the one true God. If they did, perhaps we all could live in peace.”
“Sounds like a child’s story,” Peyton said.
“Yes, I guess it is. Even if we all believed the same, differences would occur.”
“True. Maybe we could sit down and discuss problems without killing each other.”
“Perhaps one day.”
“Katie, were you given an Indian name?”
“Yes.” She recalled the first time Jeremiah whispered it in her ear. “Swift Arrow gave it to me after he and my father became friends. I suppose you want to know what it is.”
“Of course.”
“Yo-oh-hobt Paph. It means yellow hair.”
“It suits you,” Peyton said with a wide grin. “Did your father call you this openly?”
“Most of the time. He called me Katie when we were alone and especially near the end.” Uneasiness settled on her, as though his conversation was leading to a disagreeable topic.
“I have a new curiosity about the Comanches,” he said.
A bird sang in the distance, and a dog barked. “And what’s your question?” she said. “I might not be able to answer it.”
“I thought you were the expert.” He chuckled, but she didn’t relax. “I’m sure you won’t disappoint me. I’ve heard that Comanche war bonnets were made entirely of eagle feathers.”
A hint of relief swept through her. “You heard correctly. Other tribes dye turkey feathers for their war bonnets, but to a Comanche that would be a disgrace.”
“See, you did know the answer,” Peyton said. “And I thank you.”
“The Comanches are a proud race,” Katie said. “They won’t be driven from this land without a fight.”
“Excuse me if this offends you, but Katie, do you miss them?” He studied her face.
She refused to believe he intended to insult her, but his curiosity reinforced her earlier misgivings. “Sometimes I think about the people I grew to love, but my home is here. I’m happy and I belong with Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Seth. What more could I want?”
Peyton turned to the mountains. “Sounds to me like you have everything you need.” His tone was oddly cold.
Katie’s gaze flew to his face. What was that she saw?
Katie carried a basket of corn bread, roast duck, and apple pie to Martha’s family. Most of the children had been down with colds and fever, and the food would be welcomed for the evening
meal.
As usual when Peyton rode patrol, her thoughts turned to the increasing number of Comanche raids. The news inevitably devastated her as much as the families of the injured or killed. The horrible injustices done to innocent families and the thought of old familiar faces seeking out white settlers made her feel responsible. The incidents were not her fault, but guilt washed over every part of her. She worried and fretted until Peyton rode through the front gate. Why did he have to lead every group of soldiers who checked on Indian activity? But by the time she saw him again, the question slipped her mind.
She continued on her walk, but as she passed the colonel’s office, she spied a shiny rock near the side of the small building. She smiled and stepped closer. It would certainly gain Jacob’s attention. She stooped to pick it up and heard voices.
“Two more families were found murdered and their homes burned to the ground,” one soldier said. “Besides being scalped, the whole family, even the children, were tortured before they died.”
She shuddered. Peyton never shared the grotesque details about his encounters with raiding Indians. Should she be grateful to him for shielding her from the truth? Her thoughts spun wildly. What if she were still with the Comanches, and soldiers attacked them? Lives taken were wrong no matter what the circumstances.
“Pardon me, sir, but we need to wipe out the whole Indian nation—women and children, too. I’m for burning their villages to the ground. Let them get a dose of their own medicine,” another soldier said.
The colonel cleared his throat. “It’s the land. The Indians believe we have no right to be here, and they are going to do their best to drive us out. Our job is to stop the raids so folks can live here without fear of losing their lives. Sooner or later those savages will realize that there are a lot more of us than them.”
When would this ever end? If God was in control of all things, then why didn’t He soften the soldiers’ and the Indians’ hearts to stop this senseless killing? Why couldn’t both sides simply talk and work out a peaceable solution? Her father had traded furs, food, and horses for their ranch. It seemed fair to her. Why couldn’t those at the fort see that reasoning?
“Lone Eagle appears to be leading more raids than his father. Reminds me of a rattler—ready to strike when you least expect it,” the colonel said. “I wonder if he’s human, and I’d like the honor of blowing a hole right through his chest.”
With Colonel Ross’s statement, Katie breathed in sharply. He spoke of the man she’d once planned to marry. Lone Eagle was a warrior like the colonel’s soldiers, a man who refused to let the white man destroy his people and their way of life. Perhaps he’d merely been a young girl’s infatuation, but she understood what drove him to kill. While his actions churned her stomach, so did any man who took the lives of others.
What were Peyton’s actions when on patrol? Did she even want to know?
“When is Sergeant Sinclair due back?” the first soldier said.
“Yesterday,” the colonel said. “He’s a good soldier, and I would hate to lose him. I want to know the moment he returns.”
She’d heard enough. She hurried around to the front of the colonel’s office and walked briskly toward the Jamesons’ cabin. Her heart lifted a prayer for Peyton’s safe return and an end to the bloodshed.
On the way back from her errand, she heard a commotion at the front gate. Peyton and his patrol had returned safely. He waved, and her heart soared. What had happened to her? Before coming to the fort, she’d promised her heart to Lone Eagle. Now another man caused the same feelings. Had she become fickle?
The day of Lauren’s wedding came, and Katie was as excited as the young bride. Katie had sewn, baked, and assisted in the events leading up to the day ever since she met Lauren. The groom’s name was Miles Barrett—a comely man who had earned the reputation as an excellent soldier and was well respected among the civilians. He accompanied Peyton on most of the patrols, and Peyton had remarked more than once on his clear thinking in the line of duty.
Lauren and Miles were clearly devoted to each other, and both of them had dedicated their lives to the Lord. For Katie, this marriage stated one more reason why the Comanche dispute needed to be resolved. Lauren shouldn’t be afraid when Miles rode out on patrol.
Except for the soldiers guarding the fort, most everyone planned to attend the wedding ceremony. When Reverend Cooper saw the number of folks gathered to seat themselves inside his small, hut-like church, he immediately moved the wedding outside. Roughly constructed benches were snatched up like kindling and arranged in the open air. When the benches could fit no more guests, families stood together noisily waiting for the bride to make her appearance.
Excitement brewed in the air. She didn’t ever want to return to the Indians. Here dwelled her family and her God.
Lauren and Miles’s wedding served to remind Katie of how close she came to spending the rest of her life with a Comanche warrior. She searched the crowd for the Kiowa, and all the while the old gnawing fear crept over her again.
“Are you looking for someone?” Aunt Elizabeth said.
Relieved that the Indian was not among them, Katie pushed away any thoughts of Lone Eagle demanding she return to him.
“I just wondered about one of the soldiers, but he’s not here,” she said. If Lone Eagle truly meant to threaten her into obedience, the Kiowa would have long since found a way to tell her. How good that Aunt Elizabeth could not read her thoughts. “This is simply wonderful,” she said.
She turned her attention to the bride walking toward them. Lauren’s father held his daughter’s arm while she steadied a Bible with her other hand. Martha and Aunt Elizabeth had searched frantically for a bouquet of wildflowers to arrange into a bouquet, but Lauren insisted upon carrying her Bible with several satin ribbons instead.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” her aunt whispered as Lauren brushed by them.
Katie could only nod. Her eyes moistened for her dear friend.
“Look at her dress, Katie. I’d never seen it on her before.” Aunt Elizabeth sighed. “Martha said it was her grandmother’s wedding dress. Mercy me, it hugs her waist just right. I declare she looks more like a precious china doll than a prairie bride.”
The dress’s color had faded to ivory along with the many yards of delicate lace, yet the shade of the wedding gown enhanced Lauren’s hair and sky blue eyes. Pearl buttons lined a high, lace-trimmed neck and lay within the scallops of the neck, sleeves, bodice, and layered skirt.
Katie listened to the parting crowd whisper “ooh” and “ah” as the bride fairly floated past them. Lauren’s face glowed, and her eyes sparkled. Lauren was the most beautiful bride in the world.
As radiant as the bride appeared, the groom looked every bit as dashing. Every metal accessory on his uniform glistened.
“Looks to me like folks could see themselves in Miles’s boots.” Uncle Seth chuckled. “And he must have been up all night polishing the buttons on his uniform.”
All the people who sat or stood near the young couple detected a slight trembling in the groom, especially as Lauren moved closer to him.
Katie caught a glimpse of Peyton standing beside Miles as the best man. He took her breath away. Would she ever marry a man as fine as Sergeant Peyton Sinclair?
“Dearly beloved,” Reverend Cooper began.
With all the planning of the past several weeks, the wedding ceremony ended all too quickly. The reverend delivered a short sermon on the biblical principles of a sound marriage, and Lauren and Miles whispered their vows. The crowd hushed to see them seal their promises with a kiss.
“And now I would like to introduce you to the new Mr. and Mrs. Miles Barrett. Lauren and Miles, you may greet your friends and family,” Reverend Cooper said.
The soldiers cheered and other folks clapped. A chain of laughter echoed across the fort and over the canyon walls. The merriment had begun.
“Join us for food and fellowship.” Mr. Jameson gestured toward the cabin
where everyone was to gather.
“I’ve got my fiddle,” a soldier shouted.
Aunt Elizabeth, Katie, and Martha, plus three of Lauren’s sisters, assembled around two makeshift tables outside of the Jameson home. One table held all sorts of canned fruits, vegetables, preserves, delicate needlepoint items, tools, and even dry goods for the new couple to set up housekeeping. The second table held cake, pies, and fruit cobblers with a huge bowl of punch. The desserts were placed on several donated sets of dishes and even more sets of cups. Aunt Elizabeth and Martha served the food while Katie alternated with Lauren’s sisters in pouring punch and washing dirty dishes.
At first all of them busied themselves in helping folks get food and drink, but when the line of guests dwindled, the servers relaxed and treated themselves. No sooner had Katie sliced herself a piece of apple pie than Peyton appeared.
“Have you eaten?” Katie said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Peyton said. “You were inside the cabin when I went through the line.”
“Good, because I’m starved.”
“I think it’s traditional for those who serve not to eat,” Peyton said with a hint of a smile. “It’s a custom that is strictly enforced.”
She glanced up, eyes open wide, embarrassed at the thought of breaking a social rule.
“Especially apple pie—that’s always for the best man.”
“And you’re teasing me.” Katie shook her finger at him. “I don’t know how you can tell such tales with a straight face.”
“Years of practice. Can you get away for a little while?”
Katie looked around and saw nothing for her to do. “Aunt Elizabeth, will things here be all right for a while?” she said.
“Certainly, you’ve done plenty for one day.”
Katie and Peyton left the crowd of people behind and made their way through the front gate to the beauty of Limpia Valley. They talked of the wedding, the cooler weather, and Emily and Jacob’s latest accomplishments. Jacob loved learning, and he’d already learned his letters. Emily spoke new words almost on a daily basis. Both she and Jacob called her aunt and uncle, Mama and Papa.
Journey of the Heart Page 8
