by Marian Wells
She mused over the memory of the little crucible with its growing stack of gold nuggets, and she hugged the secret to herself. One of these days, my husband, I’ll spill out my big pile of gold nuggets that I’ve been fishing out of the creek while you’re riding the circuit. There were many things that they needed, but the piano was top on the list.
That night a stranger came into the worship services held in the crowded little cabin beside the Arkansas River. Daniel stood to preach just as he walked in. Daniel’s hesitation and the question in his eyes alerted Amy. She watched him study the man. Later she drew a deep breath of relief as she began to understand Daniel’s questions. He thought the man was a secessionist. Without a doubt Lettie’s talk had triggered the questions. But the man wasn’t there to cause trouble. She was standing beside Daniel when the stranger mentioned Fort Garland.
He said, “We’re the most neglected bunch in the territory. No chaplain for a handful of soldiers kept on duty just to run off the Indians and outlaws. No glory in that.”
Daniel was nodding. “I’ll come. We’re this close and without a big need to get back to the gulch. Father Dyer will be there a couple of weeks. I’ll just go on down now.”
“He’s a soldier?” she asked later. Daniel nodded. Her voice was low as she said, “His face was so hard and dark.”
“But it didn’t stay that way. Amy, as I preached I could see the yearning in his eyes. It was that which compelled me to say yes.”
“Where’s Fort Garland?”
“Straight south of here. Not as far as New Mexico, or even the mountains by Raton.”
The man whose cabin had been serving as meetinghouse said, “Best way to get down there is by way of the sand dunes. Pretty good road runs along the flatlands, and it’s fast. You oughta be able to get there in two, three days at the most.”
“Indians?” Amy asked.
“Naw, no more’n usual. A few Utes. Plenty of places to stay along the way.”
On their second day of travel, after studying the sagebrush and clumps of greenery as spiked as a cluster of swords, Amy said, “Daniel, this part of the territory is different; this is drier, sandy. It’s getting pretty close to being desert, isn’t it? For a time I thought all of Colorado was mountains and plains. And the people we’re seeing. Somehow I got the idea all the people of Mexican descent lived in Pueblo.”
“Not so. Remember, these people moved into the area before the territorial lines were drawn. They are just as much a part of Colorado Territory as we are. See these little brown houses? Not many trees around, so the people brought with them their way of doing things. The houses are made of sun-dried brick—mud, if you please. They call it adobe. In the winter the houses are much more comfortable than our log cabins. And in summer they’re cool.”
It was nearly sundown when they saw the smudge of buildings centered in the middle of the high plains. “Fort Garland,” Daniel said with a nod toward the line of adobes. “This is a first for me, too. Traveling this far south, I mean. The fort is impressive. How do you like that high adobe wall surrounding the place?”
“Frightening,” Amy murmured. “It makes me wonder why it is necessary.”
He replied, “Indians. We’ll be there before dark if we move on,” Daniel said, flicking his mare with the reins. Bending her head against the wind, Amy followed.
“Hallo!” Amy jumped and looked up as Daniel slowed his mount and veered toward a lone horseman. After a gasp of surprise, Amy followed.
The man was wearing a uniform. At her approach he touched his hat and nodded. Amy could see the insignia on his uniform. Colorado Volunteer Army.
Addressing Daniel, the man said, “Fella, I recognize you. I’m Chivington, lately of your outfit—now the Army’s my field. Do I get the impression you’re headed for New Mexico?”
Daniel leaned across his horse to extend his hand. “No, Major Chivington. I’m glad to meet you. I’ve inherited a cabin you’ve used in Oro City. Thanks for the books.”
“You’re welcome to them, fella. Have a feeling my days of using them are limited.” For a moment his face saddened and then he smiled. “But decisions made must be honored. You can’t coil up life like a rope and toss it out again, in a different direction if you please.”
He lifted his head and turned his sharp eyes on Daniel again. “I’d appreciate a few prayers. The troops are headed into confrontation with the rebels in New Mexico.”
Amy straightened and leaned across to look at the major. “Sir, what do you mean? Surely not war.”
He nodded. “A frantic call for help. Dispatch from New Mexico informs us the Confederate Army is moving up from Texas. They’ve been taking the Union installations, fort by fort. Information indicates they’re headed for Fort Union. That’s the biggest and last stronghold before they’re into Colorado Territory.” His smile was crooked. “We’re headed New Mexico way to help out Canby. There’s no way of getting around it. We fight them there or we’ll be meeting them on our own ground in a couple of weeks. It’s the Colorado gold fields they have their eyes on. Colorado gold to fight their war.”
“War,” Amy said slowly. “Now it is here. We’ll be having war in our own Colorado.”
“Only over my dead body,” Chivington said soberly. “We’ll have a big fight in New Mexico, but Colorado? Not while I’m alive.”
He lifted his hand in a salute. For a moment his smile was half mocking. “Parson, now’s not a good time to carry the gospel into New Mexico. Better avoid Raton Pass.” With that warning, he wheeled his restless horse, and dug in his spurs. Silently Amy and Daniel watched the cloud of red dust grow and hide him from their sight.
As they started to turn their horses, Amy gave a gasp. Reaching for her husband’s arm, she cried, “Daniel, what about Mother and Father? You said—” She watched the dismay move over his face. “It’s bad, isn’t it? Even you’re thinking it’s all Chivington says.”
He glanced down at her trembling hand and spoke as if he were thinking aloud. “He said Fort Union; the folks were headed that direction. Their plans were to go down through Las Vegas and Santa Fe.” He took a deep breath. “Yes, Amy, it’s bad. Bad enough that if it is at all possible to put you on a stage for Denver, I intend to ride after them.”
“No!” Amy gulped, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. “We can’t afford a stage, but besides that, Daniel, I’ve no intention of leaving you. I’ll go too. What if they’ve been caught in all the fighting? You’ll need me. Besides, if it’s that bad, I’d be in the middle of the fighting before you get back.”
She saw him hesitate, chew his lip. Despite the dark expression in his eyes, he nodded.
Chapter 9
“Let’s ride on,” Amy said impatiently.
Daniel dropped his hand. He had been studying the squat adobe fort sprawled across the horizon. “Go on?” Shaking his head, Daniel said, “Sweetheart, I know you’re anxious, but we can’t ride day and night. For one thing, I wouldn’t want the wrong people to get to wondering where we’re going in such a hurry. Chivington made it clear we weren’t to talk about his mission.”
Touching Amy’s hand, he added, “Let’s stay here at the fort tonight. I’ll hold services according to plan. I’ll also look at the army maps and get information about the trails.”
Slowly Amy said, “This is frightening—like a bad dream. At home the war talk was easy to ignore. I mean, we’re so far from Washington and even farther from the South where the fighting is going on. Now all of a sudden it’s here.”
Daniel nodded. “But, Amy, don’t get in a panic over it. It’s going to be two armies fighting it out, probably somewhere out in the middle of the desert. We’ve little chance of getting close enough to be involved.
“My guess is we’ll have all the protection we need if we stick to the well-traveled routes. From what Chivington said, we’ll have to avoid Raton Pass through the mountains.”
He paused, then added, “We also need to get all the information
we can about the location of the Confederates.”
“Why did he tell us to stay off Raton Pass? You said Mother and Father traveled that route.” She read the answer in his expression. Slowly she said, “I guess I can add up the facts. Chivington, Colorado Volunteers, and Raton Pass. You said we need information—about the fighting going on right now?”
He nodded and Amy began shaking her head as he added, “It would be better for you to stay here.”
“With all these men? Daniel, I just refuse to let you go without me.”
He studied her face before admitting, “I guess you’ll be just as safe with me. If Fort Union falls, Fort Garland stands a good chance of being attacked next. I’d rather have you where I can—” His grin was strained as he added, “Now you’ve got me thinking war. Besides, it’s easier for just the two of us to be dodging an army. At least two won’t kick up as much dust as a thousand troops do. And even in war the clergy are given special consideration.
“Let’s move out.” He turned his horse and headed for the adobe fort.
That night during the evening services, while Amy led the singing she watched the serious eyes of the young men. Their sober gaze made her heart heavy with dread. Daniel, it is serious, she thought. More than you think. Look at their eyes. They know what is going on in New Mexico, and they’re thinking hard about eternity.
As Daniel stood to preach, she watched the men lean forward with elbows on knees. From her seat behind them, she studied their knobby-knuckled hands and the slender young shoulders hunched with tension.
The attentive spirit of the young men caught at her throat, and she found her mood lining up with theirs. War. Mother and Father are somewhere in the middle of it all. What is it like to know my fellowmen are ready to kill for gold—for a cause I can’t understand? She rubbed her chilled arms as she looked at Daniel.
Daniel echoed the word back. “Gold. If only men would guard the treasure God has put within them. The Divine has created us with the potential for fellowship with himself, and we hold this treasure lightly. There’s not a miner alive who would sit by and let someone walk off with his bag of gold nuggets.”
Later she and Daniel crossed the parade grounds to the quartermaster’s cabin where they were to sleep. The moon had risen, and in the cold light the adobe fort seemed strangely isolated and lonesome. A coyote raised his mournful yipping from a distant hill. The horses in the corral snorted and shifted uneasily. Amy tightened her grip on Daniel’s arm.
Inside the tiny chamber she watched Daniel spread their blankets on the floor. With the last one in place, he leaned back to look at her, asking, “What were you thinking tonight? I saw you shiver as those young men came down to pray.”
“War. Daniel, it’s frightening. I was thinking it must be terrible to be a soldier, knowing each day dawns with the possibility of riding out to meet a foe. No wonder their eyes were serious, and that they were so attentive. I wonder that they ever manage a smile. And now we’re going down there.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. With a strained grin, he asked, “A risk? Isn’t all of life a risk? Is it so different for them?” His voice dropped to a brooding murmur. “Granted, the stakes are higher for them, but still, each one of us faces risk in our daily lives.”
He slanted a glance at her, trying for a lighthearted grin as he spoke. But she saw the question in his eyes as he said, “How do you young women so bravely dash into marriage knowing you must face childbirth? Far too many women die for their loving.”
She looked up into his brooding dark eyes. “Daniel,” she whispered, going to kneel on the blankets beside him. For a moment she couldn’t answer; then slowly she began. “Children. Of course I want them. I’m not thinking about the risk. It is a threat we live with unheedingly. Daniel, to think on all this makes a body nearly afraid to draw another deep breath. Do you worry about our loving?”
“I don’t think worry is the word, but I’m aware of the danger. Amy, I don’t know how people like Lizzie can laugh through life. But isn’t living for the Lord Jesus Christ really a matter of doing our best down here and then leaving the rest in His hands? Even life and death? Childbirth or war? The question isn’t whether we live or die, but whether we end up satisfied with our lives when the end comes.”
He brooded on. “The Bible tells us we have no control over the length of our life. And God knows about childbirth and war, so that makes the other thoughts such as the dread and fear of death seem just plain out of line. Unless, of course, the Holy Ghost is pointing out a man’s need of salvation. In that situation, there’s no way a man can escape the dread without dealing with his need.”
In the morning as they left the fort behind, Daniel said, “I had a chance to look at the map. It’s straight south for us. The first settlement we’ll reach is San Luis. It’ll be Catholic and Spanish. Even if they could understand us, I doubt we’ll be given a voice, and I doubt they’re looking for an itinerant preacher anyway.” He added, “According to the map, from there on down into New Mexico, the other settlements are too small to be called towns.”
“But Father Dyer preaches to any man he can back into a corner long enough.”
“Not to the Catholics who can’t speak plain old American.”
The morning was crisp. Frost had outlined every bush and blade of grass with brilliance, reminding Amy it was still the middle of March.
During the days that followed, the miles before them slanted down out of the high mountain country. Cedar and piñon gave way to sage and mesquite, while rocky paths disappeared into sandy trails. They rode rapidly toward the border separating the two territories and discovered the lowlands were pleasantly warm and dry. The trail before them was clear-cut, marked by a line of scanty vegetation worn thin by the hooves of animals.
Nodding at the trail, Daniel said, “This morning a fellow told me a bit about New Mexico. Seems there’s a gent by the name of Maxwell who just about owns all of the southeast quarter of the territory. They tell me he’s a white man, known pretty much as a fair dealer and interested in both the Mexicans and Indians.
“They also told me an Indian agent by the name of Arny has pretty much finalized plans for an Indian reservation, using part of Maxwell’s land grant. A small part.”
“They’re starting to talk reservation here too?”
Daniel nodded. “Times are bad for them.” Impatiently Daniel added, “They can’t glean a living off the land now. We’ve helped abuse the land and ruin the game herds, so they’ve every right to be unhappy. But it’s easy for the white man to forget the facts when it’s his house being burned and his family murdered.” He shook his head. “Now the government is scratching hard to make peace and settle the Indians on tribal lands. I don’t agree with the methods, but I don’t know better how to do for them. Without reservation land, they’ll starve.”
The following day they rode into New Mexico Territory. Daniel said, “There’s no longer a need to pretend to be only missionaries for the Methodist Episcopal Church, going about our business. Amy, from here on out, we’ll stretch leather until we get to Santa Fe. Then we’ll start asking questions.”
“About Mother and Father?” He nodded, and she persisted, “Heading into Santa Fe means we’ll be close to where the fighting is. Maybe closer to the Confederate Army than Mother and Father?” His nod was abrupt.
As Daniel said, they stretched leather, and there was no longer opportunity to talk much while their horses trotted side by side, pausing occasionally to nibble at the grass along the trail.
Under the hooves of the horses the fine soil was beaten into a stifling cloud that drifted and settled, coating them from head to toe. In an attempt to avoid the dust, Amy stuffed her blond curls into Daniel’s old hat.
On the following day, they stopped to water the horses at midday. While they waited, Daniel said, “I have an idea. Let’s have something to eat while I tell you about it.”
While Amy opened the pack of food, he said, “Sweetheart, what wo
uld you think of wearing this other pair of trousers?”
She thought about it. “Because I am a woman and you think it will make people guess me to be a fellow? Do you think it would make me safer? And what about a fellow on a sidesaddle?”
“It wouldn’t be obvious from a distance. Up close, nobody in his right mind would mistake you for a man anyway, sidesaddle or no.” He grinned affectionately and winked at her.
“Seems to me, Daniel, we’re more harmless looking just the way we are.” She saw his face and rushed to him. “Don’t worry, my husband. Remember, these are the risks. Two days ago, you were talking brave talk about trusting the Lord, even in these risks.”
She watched the lines of strain on his face as he said, “It’s different having a wife along.”
“I should hope so!” Finally he grinned and reached for her. In a moment she pushed away from his kisses, saying, “I have a big desire to wash the dust off my face.”
He hugged her, not wanting to disappoint her, but he knew they needed to push on. “Could be a waste of time. Anyway, we’ll reach Taos before sundown. Tonight, if we’re fortunate, we’ll find enough water for bathing.”
“What is Taos?”
“Indian pueblo. They told me that at Fort Garland. My dear wife, we’re both going to learn something new this trip. I’ve not yet seen an Indian pueblo. Father Dyer saw it on his visit, said it was very old. They told him it’s been inhabited for hundreds of years.”
“Pueblo?” she questioned as she divided the meat and bread.
“About like a bunch of Indian huts stuck together and stacked on top of each other. Adobe.”
By midafternoon they were into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Fir forests darkened the slopes and deep canyons. Daniel had been riding ahead. Now he turned his mare and came back to Amy. “Sangre de Cristo.” His tongue poured out the liquid phrase. “Father Dyer says it means the atonement blood of the crucified Christ. I don’t know the significance of the name in connection with the mountains.”
