Heart of the Sandhills

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  But she didn’t die. She heard men’s voices and another gunshot. Someone grabbed her arm and said words she didn’t understand. She looked up and thought he must be a forest spirit, for his face glowed red in the darkness. She shrunk away, hiding her face in her hands.

  Then she realized his face glowed red from her dying fire. He was white. And that made her more afraid than if he had been a forest spirit. She scooted away from him, stammering that she had not hurt the man on the travois, she was only taking him to the fort to get help. She had found him and she didn’t mean any harm. She was nearly hysterical, and she grabbed the man’s book up and shook it in the face of the yellow-bearded man who was holding her arm.

  Suddenly someone said in Lakota, “Hush, woman. We won’t hurt you. We have been looking for this man.”

  As suddenly as she had begun to talk she was quiet. The one who knew her language was the old one with the gray hair. Her eyes stayed on him, ignoring the others who were babbling in their own tongue.

  “Why is he sick?” the old one asked.

  “He fell. I found him broken at the bottom of a high wall.”

  “Broken? What is broken?”

  “Ribs. His leg.”

  Picotte lifted the blanket covering Daniel’s lower body. What he saw made him close his eyes and swear to himself.

  “Ask her when she found him,” Aaron wanted to know.

  “There’s no time for that,” Picotte said. “We’ve got to get him to the fort.” He looked at Aaron. “He’s probably not going to make it, son. But we’re going to do our best. That leg’s infected. Gangrene maybe already have started. It works fast. Help me get this travois rigged—” he looked at Captain Willets. “Which horse is least likely to raise a fuss?”

  “Mine,” Elliot said.

  “Then let’s get it rigged and get moving.” He turned to the little woman. “What is your name?” When she answered, he smiled. “All right, Two Moons. Can you help me with the travois? These white men don’t know how to do it.”

  Relieved to have something to do, Two Moons stepped over a dead wolf. She motioned for Picotte and another to help her and in moments they had the travois lashed to Elliot’s gray mare. True to Elliot’s prediction, the mare snorted and stared, but she tolerated the contraption without kicking. Two Moons scrambled up behind Picotte and soon they were moving quickly toward camp.

  At the camp, Edward Pope had coffee waiting, but no one wanted to drink it. Instead, Elliot and Aaron kept on toward the fort while Picotte and Willets helped Pope break camp by the light of the moon.

  “You take the girl,” Picotte said. “You’ve got a younger horse and we’ll go faster that way.” He said a few words to Two Moons, who nodded and walked obediently over to Willets. He started to lift her up, and for the first time noticed the deep gash the wolf had made across the top of her foot.

  “Wait a minute, Picotte,” he called out. “She’s hurt.”

  Picotte started to get down, but Two Moons shook her head. She called to him, pushing Willets hand away and motioning toward the fort.

  “She says to leave it.”

  Willets wouldn’t listen. “It’s deep. Needs tending now.”

  “Fair enough,” Picotte said, and he translated for Two Moons, who stared down at Willets with an odd expression on her face, but submitted to his attention. Edward Pope produced a bandage and a canteen of water.

  “You got everything in that kitchen of yours, Pope?” Willets joked.

  “Just about,” Edward said. “A man’s got to be prepared.” He finished packing his kitchen while Willets tended the little woman’s bleeding foot. While he worked, he pondered his first sight of her, one foot planted on either side of Daniel’s body, her eyes blazing in the firelight, poised to take on a pack of wolves with a stick. He’d never seen anything like her for bravery in a woman, that was certain. Unless maybe it was Genevieve Two Stars.

  Two Moons flinched when Willets washed the slash across the top of her foot. He apologized and tried to be gentler, thinking about the dainty feet of women back in Minnesota who whined if their dance slippers got muddy. One of them in this situation would have been wolf bait in less than a minute. One of them, he realized, would never have had the guts to try to bodily drag a man to a fort after her pony gave out. He wrapped Two Moons’s foot and prepared to mount behind her, but she slid back behind the saddle.

  “Don’t want a white man’s arms around you, eh?” Willets mumbled. “Fine. But I hope you can manage to stay on.” He kicked his horse’s flanks and headed out at a smart trot.

  Dawn presented a gray sky and cold winds. The men spread more blankets atop Daniel and picked up the pace.

  Once, Daniel opened his eyes and Aaron leaned down trying to get his attention. “You hold on, Daniel. We’re taking you to the fort. The doctor will help. Just hold on.”

  They rode in grim silence, churning out the miles. Willets rode up alongside the travois. He talked to his friend, trying to encourage him, hoping that if he couldn’t hear the words, at least he would hear the respect and caring and respond. “Don’t give up, Daniel. We’re almost there.”

  A few minutes after Willets talked to Daniel, he was aware of Two Moons’s hands holding lightly to his coat. He caught up with Aaron. “Good time to pray, young man,” he said gruffly.

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all morning?” Aaron said testily. “Maybe you ought to try it, too.”

  “Maybe I will,” Willets shot back.

  Aaron looked at him sternly. “Why should God listen to you? You probably haven’t spoken to Him in years. You don’t even know Him. You said that yourself.”

  “I didn’t know God played favorites when it came to prayers,” Willets said, half joking.

  “He doesn’t. But He’s pretty plain about who He does and doesn’t listen to. So unless you’re serious about knowing Him, I’d suggest you just whisper a prayer to the wind, or whatever else it is you believe in.” Aaron nudged his horse forward and caught up with Elliot.

  Willets pulled his horse behind the travois, frowning and thinking. Who was Aaron Dane to tell him God wouldn’t listen to John Willets’s prayers, anyway? Who did he think he was? It was Daniel’s life they were talking about. And John Willets valued it as much as anyone else. Surely they all knew that.

  A cool wind began to blow. Willets sensed rather than felt the little woman behind him shiver, although she seemed to be leaning a little closer to him now. Up ahead, Aaron pulled his horse up and dismounted just long enough to untie his bedroll. When Willets and the woman rode by, he held a blue-and-white quilt up for the woman and said something in Lakota. Two Moons answered him gently and draped the quilt across her shoulders.

  “Captain,” Aaron said, catching up with them quickly. “I—I’m sorry about what I said back there.”

  “No problem,” Willets said abruptly.

  “No, that’s not true, sir. I’m worried about Daniel, but so are you in your own way and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Of course I’ve been praying. And you can, too. Only—”

  “Only what? Only I’m not holy enough for it to do any good?”

  Aaron was quiet for a minute. He swallowed hard. “It’s not that, sir. No one’s holy enough that God wants to hear what they have to say about anything. That’s not it.”

  “What is it, then, Dane? I’m all ears.” Willets did not try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  “Well, sir, the way I understand it is this: sin puts a gap between the sinner and God. And since we’re all sinners, we’re all separated by that gap. The Cross is what closes the gap. Jesus did away with sin by taking it on Himself at the cross. Once we make it personal, it’s as if our own sins were with Him when He died. So our sins are all forgiven and the gap is closed. There’s a bridge we can ride across. And when we get to the other side, there’s no gap anymore between us and God, because Jesus took the sin that was keeping us separated.”

  “And then God hears our prayers an
d does what we want?” Willets said.

  “No, sir, not exactly,” Aaron said. “I mean, yes, once we accept the Cross for our sins, the sin gap goes away. He hears our prayers then. But He still might not do what we want.”

  “You telling me God might not answer your prayers for Daniel?” Willets snorted. “If you think that, why do you bother to pray?”

  “Oh, I know He’ll answer,” Aaron said. “I just don’t know how He’s going to answer. He does what He wants.”

  “Well, good for God,” Willets said. “If He just goes around doing what He wants, then I don’t think I’ll bother to get in good with Him.”

  “Well, sir,” Aaron cleared his throat, “I can see how you’d feel that way. Lots of people say they believe in Jesus just because they want to get in good with God and have Him do things for them. They kind of think of Him like He’s magic or something.”

  “But you don’t think of God that way, do you Dane? Neither do Two Stars or his wife.”

  “No, sir. It’s different for us.”

  “I know it’s different,” Willets snapped. “But you can’t seem to explain it so a man can understand it.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Willets shook his head. He sighed. When he finally spoke, his voice was kinder. “It’s all right, boy. It probably can’t be explained. Religion gets confusing, even for theologians. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “Can—can I just tell you what it means to me, knowing Christ and all?” Aaron asked shyly.

  “Fire away,” Willets said.

  “Well, it’s like this. I was raised by missionaries, so I learned a lot about the Bible and God. And I knew about Jesus dying on the Cross and it was for the sins of mankind and all that. I knew it in my head anyway. But then the outbreak happened and I saw all those terrible things. It really threw me. I just couldn’t see how God could be in all that.” Aaron paused, thinking hard. “I think I hated God for a while because I knew He could stop it, but He didn’t. I couldn’t understand it.”

  “And now you do?”

  “Oh, no, sir. I still don’t understand it all. But I think I got enough little pieces to get me through.” Aaron brushed his hand down his jaw, rubbing the stubble growing there. “All these bad things that happen, they aren’t God. They’re sin in the heart of man. And God doesn’t want it any more than we do. But unless a man knows Him, he sins and sins and sins again. But when a man goes to God and gets his sin forgiven, God puts a new man inside him. Someone who has the power to look evil in the face and choose good. That’s why Daniel can make all the choices he makes, like not taking vengeance against Abner Marsh when everything inside him wants to do it. And being worried about me in a battle. That’s why he can love like he does. There’s a new man inside him.”

  “You telling me Jesus is the reason he and Genevieve love each other so much?”

  “Sure. God’s love pours out of the new man if Christians let it. And when you know God, you learn He does things different from humans. I mean, if He acted like us He wouldn’t be God, would He? He’s working things out for our good and His glory—there’s a promise like that in the Bible. But sometimes that means things happen we don’t like. And we just have to trust He knows what He’s doing.”

  “Seems to me you just take your faith blindly, Aaron,” Willets said. “You look at the world and you interpret it through your faith, but when things don’t match up, you just say ‘that’s God’.” Willets meant it as a criticism and a challenge. He was surprised when Aaron nodded and agreed with him.

  “Exactly, sir. We walk by faith. Not by sight.”

  “Faith in a God who doesn’t make sense,” Willets said. “Faith in a God who tells us everything we need to know in His Word—and expects us to live by it.”

  “Oh, so now I have to believe in God and the Bible,” Willets said.

  “Who wants to believe in a God they don’t know? And how are you going to know who God is unless you read His Book, sir?” Aaron said. He was amazed that Willets even asked the question.

  Willets shook his head. “Don’t think I’m ready for that, son. The Bible doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to a whole lot of people, me included.”

  “How much of it have you read?” Aaron asked quickly.

  “Enough to know I don’t understand it.”

  “You ever ask God to explain it to you?”

  “You just told me God isn’t listening when reprobates like me talk to him,” Willets said.

  “Maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe you should ask Him and find out.” Aaron nudged his horse ahead and leaned down to say something to Daniel.

  Willets closed his eyes momentarily. He was tired. His mind was scrambled with doubts and questions and fears and uncertainty. And he didn’t like the feeling one bit. Presently he urged his horse into a canter and caught up with Picotte.

  “I’m thinking I should ride on ahead to the fort and get the doctor on notice we’re coming in,” he said.

  Picotte frowned. “I don’t know about that. Not so sure there isn’t a party of warriors trailing this little gal.” He nodded at Two Moons.

  “If there is, they’d have attacked by now,” Willets said. “We’re pretty obviously defenseless.”

  Picotte considered. Finally he shrugged, “Fine. If you’re willing to take the risk, go ahead.”

  “Can you tell her what I’m doing?” Willets said. “Let her stay here if she wants.”

  Picotte and Two Moons exchanged a few phrases. Then Picotte nodded. “Go ahead. She’ll stick with you. She says just don’t let the soldiers hurt her.”

  “Tell her she’s safe with me,” Willets said.

  “I reckon she knows that,” Picotte answered, but he translated anyway.

  Willets felt the little woman’s arms encircle his waist. He took that as permission to leave, and in a moment the two were galloping away from the group of travelers, headed for Fort Phil Kearney.

  Late in the afternoon Willets came thundering back, leading two dozen soldiers and a military ambulance. The ambulance pulled up and the rear doors were opened. Elliot led his mare so that the travois was positioned just beside those opened doors and all Daniel’s friends gathered around while the fort surgeon examined Daniel. After one look at the leg he said, “That has to come off.” He looked up at the circle of friends. “Now.”

  “Now?” Elliot asked. “Out here?”

  “The sooner the better,” the doctor said. He looked at Elliot’s hook.

  Elliot raised his hand. “Antietam,” he said. “Bloody Monday. Cannonball.”

  “Think you can assist in a surgery?” the doctor said. He stood upright and reached for a box in the back of the ambulance.

  “If I have to,” Elliot said.

  “Well someone has to. There’s signs of gangrene around this ankle.” He pointed to a black circle the size of a coin. “Every minute counts.” He looked up at the sky. ‘And there’s a storm moving in.”

  “Let’s get started,” Elliot said.

  A field examining table was pulled out of the ambulance and set up in the open air. When Two Moons appeared at Daniel’s head, the surgeon frowned. “Get her out of here.”

  Two Moons spoke quickly to Picotte, who translated. “She’s been taking care of him. Says he has two broken ribs and a fractured collarbone. The leg bones were showing out the hole when she found him. She pulled them back inside and has been treating him. She says he didn’t have a fever until a couple of days ago. He’d been pretty clearheaded the whole time until then.”

  Dr. Grainger looked down at the splint. “Did she do this?”

  “She did,” Picotte said without asking Two Moons.

  Grainger stared at Two Moons for a moment. She met his gaze.

  “Ask her if she’s ever seen a man’s leg cut off before. I don’t want her fainting and causing a distraction.”

  Picotte translated again, but when Two Moons answered, he hesitated before giving her answer.

 
Grainger, who was opening a box of tools that looked very much like carpenter’s saws and drills, didn’t look up. “Well?”

  “She’s never seen a man’s leg cut off before. But soldiers cut out her husband’s heart and beheaded her baby. She thinks she can handle this surgery.”

  Suddenly, it was very quiet. Grainger looked at the woman and she looked back.

  “Tell her I am sorry for what was done to her family,” the doctor said slowly. “Tell her if she would stand at the man’s head and soothe him if he stirs, it would be very helpful.”

  Two Moons stood at Daniel’s head. She began to stroke his temples and his forehead. When the doctor soaked a piece of cotton with ether and put it to Daniel’s nose, Two Moons stood back, but the minute the doctor turned his attention to the leg, she leaned down and, putting her head next to his, began to sing quietly.

  Twenty-Six

  I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever.

  —Psalm 52:8

  “First time I ever operated to the sound of music,” Grainger muttered.

  “I’ll make her stop if it bothers you,” Picotte offered. He was standing leaning against the ambulance, his back to the operating table, but near enough he could translate between the doctor and Two Moons as needed.

  “No need,” Grainger said. He was making his first cut into the skin as he said, “Some people believe if a healthy person holds the hands of the sick, it gives the sick new strength … as if health can pass from the healthy body to the weak. Maybe she can pass on some healing while she sings.”

  While he talked, he pulled the skin away from the muscle tissue, explaining as he worked, “It’s been my experience that a straight cut through the calf muscles gives a pain-free stump.” Blood rolled down the table and dripped onto the earth at the foot of the table. Grainger lay his knife down atop Two Stars’s shirt.

  “Saw,” he said, and Elliot handed him the saw. “It’s a terrible sound, I know,” he said. Sweat formed on his brow as he worked. “Just remember that sound is the only thing standing between this man and the pearly gates.” Elliot closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see the lower half of Daniel’s leg leave the table.