“Ardith!”
Dianne searched for over twenty minutes and still nothing. Then a commotion drew her attention. Maybe someone had found Ardith.
Making her way down to the river, Dianne heard one woman hysterically exclaiming, “A little girl just fell off the bank! The current’s got her. I saw it myself but I couldn’t save her.”
Dianne felt sickened. She pushed her way through the crowd. “Was the girl wearing a blue dress and apron?”
The woman nodded. “As best as I could tell. She was crying, and I tried to talk to her. I thought maybe she was lost. She ran off from me and slipped on the riverbank.”
“That’s my sister!” Dianne cried out.
She took off running alongside the river, screaming Ardith’s name. There was no sign of the child, however. Heartsick, Dianne pressed on. She had to find her. Ardith had to be safe.
“Ardith!”
Dianne turned to avoid a cluster of brush and found herself in front of a mounted rider. “What’s going on?” Cole Selby demanded.
“My little sister Ardith has fallen into the river. Some woman saw her. The current swept her downstream, but I don’t see her anywhere.”
“Go back to your camp. I’ll look for her, but—” he paused and Dianne met his expression in the dimming light—“don’t get your hopes up. That river is fierce right now. A child would never be able to swim for the bank.”
Dianne watched him urge his horse forward as an overwhelming emptiness washed over her. “Don’t get my hopes up?” How could she not? How could she simply dismiss the matter?
Dianne slowly made her way back to the wagon. She could hardly stand the thought that she would be the bearer of this bad news. She neared their camp and prayed silently for strength. She wasn’t normally given to talking much to God, but it seemed a good thing. “Please help us find Ardith,” she murmured, “and please let her be alive and safe.”
“Ma!” Dianne’s voice sounded foreign in her ears. “Ma, you must come. Ardith has fallen into the river. Mr. Selby has gone after her.”
Every member of her family jumped up from around the fire. Even Betsy rushed forward with questions.
“Come on. We can ask the woman who saw her fall in,” Dianne suggested, not having any desire to relay the details. She kept hearing Cole’s words over and over in her head.
“We’ll ride out and see if we can help Mr. Selby,” Morgan declared. He and Zane ran for the horses while Betsy, Dianne, and their mother rushed to the riverbank, where Susannah questioned everyone who had any knowledge of the incident. “Oh, this is all my fault,” she whispered. “I told her she was selfish. I know it was probably nothing more than shock that made her say the things she did.”
Dianne watched as her mother twisted her hands together. The agony in her expression was more than Dianne could bear, and she quickly looked away as if to gaze into the darkness of the landscape.
Fifty or more people gathered around them. Griselda Showalter held Susannah close and talked to her constantly. For once, Dianne thought, the woman’s incessant chatter was probably a blessing.
“I just heard about your sister,” Levi said as he came to stand beside Dianne and Betsy. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just wait with us,” Dianne said, not knowing what else to say.
“I will,” he said softly. “And I’ll pray.”
Dianne met his compassionate gaze and nodded. “Thank you.”
After an hour, Cole Selby and the twins rode back into camp. Their arms were empty, however. “We didn’t see any sign of her,” Cole said despondently.
Their mother tore away from Griselda and went to where Cole dismounted. “That’s it? That’s all you can do? My child is out there somewhere.”
Cole frowned. “She’s most likely been swept far beyond our reach. I’m sorry.”
“But we can’t just leave her. She’ll be cold. She’ll be afraid. Indians might find her.”
Dianne heard the murmurs around her. “She’s a goner,” one man said.
“She’s dead for sure.”
Dianne watched her mother start to crumple to the ground. Morgan reached out to take hold of her and steadied her on her feet. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go back to the wagon.”
Dianne stared after her family in disbelief. Surely that wasn’t all they could do. Surely Ardith wasn’t really dead. She looked to Mr. Selby, who by now had dismounted. “Can’t we do anything else?”
“Nothing to be done,” he replied. “I went down the river as far as I could. She couldn’t have made it.” As if realizing how harsh he sounded, his tone softened as he added, “I’m sorry.”
Levi put his arm around Dianne. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your camp.”
Dianne nodded but continued to look to Cole, as if he could give her something more to go on. He said nothing, turning away instead. The finality of it cut deep into Dianne’s heart.
CHAPTER 10
THE WAGON TRAIN CROSSED THE RIVER ON THE TWENTY-SECOND of June. Dianne could barely comprehend that they were leaving the area.
Leaving Ardith.
Every day she’d taken Dolly and ridden along the swollen, swirling Platte, checking the banks with a critical eye, seeking with desperation anything that might prove Ardith had passed this way. Always she returned home defeated and discouraged.
Reverend Hammond, with Charity and Levi, had come to sit with them most every evening—sharing comfort and talking of God’s ability to work this tragedy for good. But Dianne could see no good in the death of a child. The more Charity Hammond tried to share Scripture with Dianne, the more questions came to mind. Why would God take the life of her sister? Was He punishing them? Was He angry at their decision to move west? Or did He simply not care? With two deaths in her family, Dianne felt the latter was probably the answer.
God simply had better things to do. There was, after all, a war going on. No doubt God had His hands full with such matters. What was the life of one child compared to the lives of hundreds of thousands of men? Still, the very thought of this hurt Dianne in a way she couldn’t begin to explain. Why were the Chadwicks not as important to God as other families?
In the back of her mind, Dianne remembered that other deaths had occurred along the way. A family here and there had lost loved ones as well. Travel was especially hard on the old and the young. But those were strangers. Dianne’s need to understand was a much more personal matter.
As the days ticked by, Dianne carefully erected a wall around her heart. The pain was so great, she hoped she might contain it by isolation. Her brothers seemed to do the same, saying very little to anyone, while Betsy clung to their mother for understanding and comfort. But their mother had no comfort to offer and often Dianne found Betsy crying alone. It was the one chink in her armor that Dianne hadn’t counted on. She could scarcely ignore her sister’s tears.
So with great confusion, Dianne fought to work against the sadness that threatened to eat her alive. She tried to give of herself to Betsy while sealing off her feelings toward others. And that went for God as well. A cold indifference settled over her as she struggled to deal with her emotions. If it was God’s plan to ignore her needs, then maybe she should just ignore God in return.
As they pushed west toward Fort Laramie, her spirits sank even further as Susannah took to her bed and refused to eat or speak. Even Betsy stopped making attempts to see their mother. Instead she stuck by Dianne’s side. Her tears dried up, as did her questions and comments regarding Ardith. Dianne hated seeing Betsy become so sullen, but she barely had the strength to keep her own heart from plunging into darkness. How could she be responsible for Betsy’s as well?
On the last day of the month, Dianne got her first close-up view of Indians. It was a peaceful clan, Mr. Selby had told them, although he didn’t mention the tribe by name. Mostly they were nomadic, moving across the plains in search of food. Some even came to beg bread from the settlers. Dianne felt horribly sorry for them in
spite of the way she’d attempted to put her emotions aside. Since her mother was nowhere around to suggest otherwise, she gave a jar of milk and a few pieces of fried bread to an Indian mother whose four small children looked nearly starved to death.
The woman smiled and offered Dianne a small leather pouch in trade. Dianne started to refuse it.
“Don’t insult her,” Cole Selby said from behind. “Take the trade. Otherwise her pride will be wounded.”
Dianne didn’t even bother to look around. She smiled back at the woman and took the pouch. She said nothing until after the woman and her children had gone. Fingering the fine craftsmanship of the pouch, she asked, “Why are they so hungry? We’ve seen antelope and other game. There have been berries along the way.” She turned and met Cole’s stern expression and asked again, “Why?”
He shrugged. “A lot of them have lost their men. That mother is probably alone, with no man to hunt for her. If you’ve noticed, a good many of the Indians we’ve encountered have been women and children and old folks. They don’t have the ability to run down an antelope.”
“Where are their men? What happened to them?”
“Some have died from sickness brought west by the whites. Others have died in the Indian wars. There’s been fierce fighting out here over the last couple of years. There will continue to be more fighting as time goes on.”
“When will it stop?” Dianne felt a deep sadness as she considered that those children were in the same position as she was: they had no father, and they would lose siblings just as she had.
“It won’t stop until the Indians have been driven off the land,” Cole said matter-of-factly.
“Do you agree with that idea?”
Cole shook his head. “No. But then, I don’t recall anyone asking me what I thought, except you.” He turned and walked away without another word and Dianne was left to contemplate yet another fact of life that she’d been blissfully unaware of—until now.
That night, a horrible windstorm blew up. There was no warning, no time to secure the campsite more than they’d already done prior to going to bed. As the wind picked up and the rain poured, Dianne gathered Betsy into her arms and abandoned their bed under the wagon for the safety inside. They joined their mother, who said nothing to either one of them. Dianne wondered if Morgan and Zane had gotten to safety. They were the ones who suggested the girls take cover. Meanwhile, they were going to help with the livestock.
As the wagon rocked back and forth, threatening to tip over at any moment, Betsy cried softly in Dianne’s arms while their mother buried her face against her pillow and turned away from her daughters. Dianne immediately thought of Ardith. She couldn’t help but wonder if her little sister was still alive—wandering around the countryside in the midst of the storm.
As if reading her mind, Betsy asked, “Is it storming on Ardith too?”
Dianne brushed back her sister’s wild hair. “Oh, I don’t think so. We’ve traveled quite a ways since Julesburg.”
“Do you think she’s with God?” Betsy then questioned, completely catching Dianne off guard. One minute the child spoke as if Ardith were alive, while the next she seemed to accept that Ardith was gone.
“I’m sure she’s in God’s care, no matter where she is.”
“Will she understand why we left her behind? I mean, if she’s still back at the river?”
“I’m sure she’ll understand. And besides, lots of folks know about Ardith. We told everyone we could in Julesburg. If they find her, they know where we’re headed. Mama left all the information with the sheriff. If they find her, they’ll bring her to Uncle Bram’s in Virginia City.”
Betsy nodded and snuggled down against Dianne. “I hope they find her.”
Dianne swallowed the lump in her throat. “I hope so too.”
At some point, Dianne and Betsy fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms. In the morning, Dianne awoke to find everything strangely calm. It was almost as if the storm had never happened. Some of the wagons had been damaged and several animals were missing—probably spooked off by the intensity of the wind and rain. Otherwise, everyone seemed fine.
Later that morning, they arrived at Fort Laramie. The fort sat amidst rolling hills and a lumbering river. There were very few trees, mostly small ones along the water. Dianne supposed that those who’d come before them had chopped down what wood could be had for fires.
They camped near the fort on the opposite side of the river. Here they would enjoy the protection of the soldiers and also learn whatever news was to be had at the sutler’s store. Post riders, who were much quicker than wagon trains, had brought in mail from back East. Many families were delighted to hear news from their loved ones. Morgan went to check on behalf of the Chadwick family but found nothing.
Dianne was saddened by this, hoping against hope that Trenton might have taken time to write. She worried about him. She couldn’t help herself.
Word swept through the camp on July 2 that three children in the train had come down with measles. Daniel Keefer made the decision to stay through for at least a couple of days and see how many others might show signs of the disease. It would also allow the travelers to celebrate Independence Day at the fort—where quite a party was planned.
Dianne went through the paces of her days, dreading the news of additional sick. She tried to occupy her time by seeing to the needs of the family. She took care of the laundry, washing it down at the river, then spreading it on a clothesline between two of their wagons. She cooked and cleaned up around their camp and tried to tend to any requests her mother made. Betsy was her constant shadow. She especially loved visiting the horses, and Dianne actually thought the animals helped to heal them both. Somehow stroking the velvet muzzle of Dolly and brushing the burrs from her tail gave Dianne a peace she found difficult to grasp anywhere else. Betsy, whose love of animals had always been evident, enjoyed such times as well.
In the evening, Dianne would listen to the sounds of the soldiers settling in for the night. The guards walking their posts were a comfort to her, even if they were across the river. Sometimes she watched them and wondered who they were and where they’d come from. Were they glad to be here in the West rather than back East where the war was raging? Did they have families who missed them? Did they worry about the Indians and the rumors of wars that would pit them against each other?
Then at night, Dianne would curl up in her covers under the wagon and marvel to think they were a world away from New Madrid and all that she had known. She fell asleep at night pondering the world that yet awaited them—praying it would be more merciful than the trail west had been.
By the fourth, Keefer’s concerns were well founded. At least fifty families had someone ill with measles, and five people had died. Mr. Keefer wanted to move out on the fifth and leave the sick behind.
“There’s another wagon train not but two weeks behind us. Anyone with sick can wait here and pick up with the other train when they come through,” he told the travelers at a mandatory meeting. Standing on the seat of one of the wagons, he raised his arms as the crowd’s murmurings grew to a fevered pitch.
“Everyone quiet down. I intend to move this train west come morning. I want those of you who have sick family members to speak with my assistant, Cole Selby. Let him know your family’s name and he’ll record it. Then he’ll leave a list with the fort commander. It’s the safest thing to do for everyone concerned. You don’t want to get out in the middle of nowhere and take sick yourselves.”
Dianne worried about Betsy. Whereas Dianne and the boys had already had the measles, Betsy had not. So far, she’d shown no sign of the disease, but Dianne knew these things took time.
“What if we don’t choose to stay behind?” a tall man with a thick black beard questioned. He stood not two feet from where Dianne watched the ruckus.
“I’m the commander of this train. When you signed on, you agreed to do things my way. If you choose to do otherwise, you can leave the train, but
so long as you’re here, you’ll do it my way.”
The man muttered a curse but said nothing more. There were a few other questions, but overall, people seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation. They didn’t like being left behind, but they comprehended there being no other choice.
Mr. Keefer ended his speech by urging those who could to join in with the Fourth of July celebrations. Some of the folks in the train had planned a celebration days in advance, not knowing they would be able to share in the fort’s activities. Everyone who played an instrument was encouraged to come and join in the spontaneous band, while the women were asked to bake their sweetest treat.
Dianne had no desire to attend the party but found herself encouraged to do so at every turn.
“It would do you good to be with other people,” Charity Hammond told her. “I can stay with your mama if you’d like, and if your brothers aren’t going, I’m sure Levi would like to escort you.”
Dianne shook her head. “No. That’s all right. Ma would resent anyone coming to stay with her. She’ll be fine. But maybe I will take Betsy over. She could use some fun, and I heard that the children are going to be playing games and having contests.”
Charity smiled and patted Dianne’s shoulder. “That’s the spirit. It will do you both good. Tell you what. I won’t sit with your mama, but I’ll give her a visit during the evening. That way she’ll not be alone and you’ll know she’s all right.”
Dianne agreed and went in search of Betsy. Her sister was excited at the prospect of the party. Morgan and Zane approved the idea as well. They had already planned to attend, as Zane wanted to talk to the soldiers about life in the fort and Morgan had his eye on dancing with a particularly lovely blond-haired girl.
Dianne watched as Betsy participated in the three-legged race. With her leg bound to the leg of another little girl, the delight on her sister’s face was evident as the race began. Hopping down the field, they giggled and struggled to coordinate their steps. Dianne laughed too.
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