Heart of the Sandhills

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  “Good. And when you feel better, stop at the doctor’s.” Elliot shoved her gently toward the stairs. “It’s going to be all right, Genevieve. Really.”

  She nodded, inhaled deeply, and headed for the chapel. When she heard the infirmary door open and close behind her, she turned, half-expecting Elliot to come out again—or to hear something else crash against the door. Daniel had already flung a tin cup across the room in frustration. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did it again. But there was nothing. With another glance up at the mountains and a fleeting concern about snow and being forced to spend the winter here at Fort Phil Kearney, Gen headed for the chapel.

  The sawmills just beyond the stockade walls were working hard today, and as Gen sat on the chapel steps, the high-pitched whine of blades slicing through logs filled the air. She knew she should be inside praying but she was exhausted. At the moment she didn’t know what to say to God or to anyone else. And so she sat, looking around her, wondering why life had become one eternal list of unanswered questions. Just over her shoulder, a guard marched back and forth along the walkway constructed along the stockade wall. Between the officers’ quarters strung along the parade ground she could see the battery composed of several mountain howitzers. Soldiers were drilling on the parade ground. She could hear their drill sergeant shouting orders from time to time. She shivered involuntarily, but just when she stood up to go inside, John Willets hurried up.

  “What’s the matter?” he demanded, frowning. “Two Moons said she heard a crash and shouting over at the infirmary. She saw you come out and Elliot go in. I’ve been looking for you. What’s wrong?”

  “He was trying to use Picotte’s leg and fell. It made him angry.” She forced a smile, disconcerted that she had noticed Willets had cut his hair and trimmed his beard. John Willets was looking especially handsome today. “If Two Moons heard a crash, that was it.” She grinned feebly. “Unless she heard the tin cup he threw across the room.”

  The blue eyes were flecked with anger as Willets blurted out, “He threw something—at you?” Without waiting for a reply, he added, “Someone needs to inform him he can’t treat you like that.”

  “Of course he didn’t throw anything at me,” Gen said quickly. The entire confrontation was making her uncomfortable. There was a possessive tone in Willets’s voice she didn’t like. It was new, she thought—or was it? Perhaps she’d missed something.

  “I appreciate your concern, but it isn’t necessary. Honestly. Elliot arrived at just the right minute. He’s gone in to talk to Daniel, and I’ve come over here to pray. We’ll work it out. We always do.” She forced a smile and opened the chapel door.

  “Isn’t there something I can do for you?” Willets asked.

  Gen shook her head and looked down for a moment at Willets’s polished boots. When she met his gaze again she noticed how very blue his eyes looked now that he was once again wearing his uniform. And now she was feeling not only uncomfortable, but also a little guilty. “You must be about your business now, Captain Willets. And my husband and I must be about ours.” She clasped her hands at her waist lest she reach out to put her hand on his shoulder and be misunderstood.

  “And exactly what is your business?” Willets asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “Well,” Gen said. “Dr. and Mrs. Grainger have invited us to stay with them for a few days. Then I suspect we’ll be leaving for Fort Laramie.”

  “And then?” Willets asked. He swiped his hand across his goatee in a gesture that had become familiar. “I—I care what happens to you, Genevieve. I want to know you’ll be all right.”

  “You’ve been a good friend, Captain Willets,” Gen said carefully, “to both Daniel and me. We owe you a debt we will never be able to repay. And we’ll never forget you.”

  The blue eyes searched hers. “But where will you go, Genevieve? Daniel’s a good man, but a man with one leg—life could be hard. What’s going to happen?”

  Gen shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know.” She smiled. “But it doesn’t really matter all that much, as long as I have my Daniel.”

  “Aren’t you—aren’t you at least a little afraid?” Willets asked. “Or does your faith take care of that, too?”

  “I’m a Christian, John. Not inhuman. Of course I’m afraid. So is Daniel. That’s what’s at the root of those crashes Two Moons told you about.” She smiled at him. “But—What time I am afraid I will trust in thee.”

  “That’s it, huh?” His voice was gently mocking when he said, “Just trust in God and He’ll fix everything.”

  “Not exactly,” Gen replied. “He doesn’t fix everything. He’s not going to give my husband a new leg. At least not a flesh and blood one.”

  “So where’s the good in your faith?”

  Gen thought for a moment. “I think perhaps the good is in the fact that while He doesn’t fix everything, He can and does fix everyone.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Gen glanced past him toward the infirmary while she groped for an answer. “My faith in God isn’t some ticket out of trouble. It helps me through and in the trouble. God doesn’t fix everything for His children so they don’t have difficulty. Actually, now that I think about it, what God does is something better than that. He promises to go through it with us. He says, I will never leave you nor forsake you. Think of that, John. If you know the God of the universe is right beside you, then you can pretty much take anything the world can throw at you.”

  Willets nodded his head in the direction of the infirmary. “Seems to me Daniel forgot that.”

  Gen nodded her head. “You could be right. What’s wonderful, though, is that whether or not Daniel remembers God is there, God hasn’t forgotten him. He’s still there in that infirmary with him.” Gen smiled. “Eventually Daniel will remember that.”

  “So God was next to Daniel when old Doc Grainger was sawing away, huh?” Willets said. When Gen winced, he stepped forward and touched her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Genevieve—I shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” Gen held her hand out to him. “No, that’s all right. But let me answer you. The answer is yes, John. Yes, God was there. And since I think I know your next question, I’ll say yes, God could have blinked His eye and restored Daniel’s leg. But here’s how I think about that: since He didn’t, that must mean He has something Daniel must learn that he could only learn with one leg.” Gen broke off. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh, John,” she said, “I only wish you could understand what I’m talking about. To you it probably sounds like a lot of nonsense. But I’m so glad you let me say it, because it was exactly what I needed to hear.”

  “Can I—can we talk again sometime—about what you just said?”

  Gen shook her head. She blushed as she said, “Daniel is concerned about—about our—friendship. There isn’t anything for him to be concerned about, but he is my husband and—”

  Willets searched her eyes for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Of course. I understand.”

  Gen tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and flung a plea for wisdom to heaven. Finally, she put her hand on his shoulder. “If God is calling you, John Willets—and I think He is—you aren’t going to be able to get away from Him. There are others who can answer your questions and give you answers. At least to the questions that have answers.”

  “And what about the ones that don’t have answers?”

  “Why, that’s what faith is for, John,” Gen said quietly. She patted his shoulder and then took her hand away. Now she could smile at him with true warmth. The something that had made her uncomfortable had been removed. She was free to care about John Willets’s soul—and only his soul.

  “Who do I ask for that?”

  “Let him who lacks wisdom, ask of God,” Gen recited.

  “Aaron says God doesn’t listen to infidels.”

  “Then stop being an infidel and come to Him with what little faith you already have. That’s where it all begins.”

 
He took his hat off and smoothed the brim. He cleared his throat. “I’ll never forget you, Genevieve Two Stars,” he said quietly. “And I’ll be thinking on what you’ve said. And, listen, if I’ve done anything—well, maybe I’ve thought—”

  “Stop,” Gen said. “Don’t say anything more. You’re a good man, John. If there is any fault in our friendship, we both own it.”

  He looked up at her, surprise shining in his blue eyes.

  “But it stops here. I won’t be taking any more walks around the parade ground with you, Captain Willets. That was foolish of me, and I should have known better.”

  Whatever John Willets might have been thinking in his moments of contemplating Genevieve Two Stars, he now realized that, like Genevieve, he had been foolish. But in his case, there might even be an element of sin in what he’d done. He smiled wryly at the thought of such a religious concept rising in the thoughts of an avowed unbeliever. Pulling himself to attention, he saluted her. “My respects to you and your husband, Mrs. Two Stars,” he said.

  Gen smiled and nodded. She thanked him again and went inside the chapel, aware that, whatever her interchange might have done in John Willets, it had accomplished a far better work in her own heart. She made her way to the front of the chapel and knelt at the altar. Father in heaven. Thank You for bringing john Willets over here so that I could share my faith with him … and be reminded of it myself.

  Genevieve prayed for a long time. She asked for guidance, and she prayed for wisdom in how to help Daniel. But most of all, Gen poured her heart out in thanksgiving to the God who never left her side and who worked His will in all things for the good of His own … I don’t know how You are going to work things, yet, Lord. But I believe that You’ve brought this into our lives because there are things we must learn that can be learned only if we endure this trial. Help me know what to do. Show me the next thing and I’ll do it.

  At that moment, Gen felt something new. A flutter of movement so fleeting she thought she must be imagining things. She stopped praying and waited, concentrating, almost breathless with anticipation. Yes. She scooted back on the front pew, smiling.

  John Willets allowed himself one last, wistful glance at the chapel door before heading across the parade ground toward the sutler’s. He felt strange, almost like he did right before a battle. There was the sense that something profound was about to happen, and the anticipation of it was exhilarating. He glanced up at the mountains in the distance, noticing their beauty in a new way. How can a man look at that and not believe in God. Aaron Dane had said that one morning when they were arguing about religion over their early morning coffee. Now, as Willets looked at those same mountains, he was inclined to agree. All right, he thought. There is a God.

  He looked at the mountains again. You are there. I am here. It might be interesting to know if You are hearing this. And if You are … if You will send someone to talk to me about crossing the gap between us. At the moment he had the thought, John remembered another conversation with Aaron Dane where they discussed the gap between man and God and how Jesus Christ had provided a way to cross it. He couldn’t recall everything Dane had said that day. Perhaps they would have to discuss it again.

  Twenty-Nine

  The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD: and he delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the LORD upholdeth him with his hand.

  —Psalm 37:23–24

  Just inside the infirmary door, Elliot bent down and picked up a tin cup before walking down the open center aisle toward Daniel’s empty bed. The patient was huddled on the floor leaning against the wall, his arms folded, his good leg bent, his forehead resting on his knee.

  “Go away,” he said without looking up.

  “You may be able to chase your wife away but I am not so easily ruled,” Elliot said, as he placed the tin cup on the bedside table. He perched on the edge of the hospital bed. “Now suppose you tell me what’s going on?”

  Two Stars leaned his head against the wall and didn’t answer.

  Elliot sat down on the floor beside him. Seeing the blood seeping through the bandaged stump, he said, “Should I be calling Dr. Grainger?”

  “No,” Daniel said miserably. “He took the rest of the stitches out today. He even said we could leave the infirmary. It doesn’t hurt that much. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “Better take a look anyway,” Elliot said. “You want some help?”

  “I’ll check it later,” Daniel said. “When I’m alone. Please, Elliot, just leave me be.”

  “Forgot the leg wasn’t there, I suppose. “ Elliot looked around him. The bed had been shoved away from the wall. The chair Gen usually sat on was lying on its side and the bedcovers hung over the side of the bed touching the floor, testament to Daniel’s trying to catching himself and failing. “That must have been some fall.” Touching the curve of his metal hook, he said, “I used to reach for things all the time. Can’t tell you how many glasses of water I knocked over with this hook before I remembered I didn’t have a hand anymore.” He was quiet for a moment. “And I didn’t want anyone to see the stump, either.”

  Daniel turned his head and looked at Elliot, then down at his stump. He pounded his thigh with his fist. “God has done a lot of things for me I should be thankful for. And I am. But this. I just don’t understand why He had to take my leg.”

  “I used to wonder the same thing about my hand,” Elliot said. “At the time it seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen. I thought my life was over.” He paused. “It wasn’t. I thought I’d never be happy again. I was wrong.” He grunted as he remembered something else and considered whether or not he should mention it. Suspecting he had just discovered the crux of Daniel’s fears, he decided to say it. “And, being the shallow kind of man I was, the thing I worried about most was women. I didn’t think a woman would ever have me. I could always think my way through dinner and small talk without the hand, but when it came to—well, to closing the bedroom door at night and—well, you know what I mean. I just didn’t think a woman would be able to stand the idea.” He took a deep breath. “But, as it turned out, I was wrong about that, too.” He cleared his throat before adding, “Hardest thing I ever did was let Jane see the stump. Repulsive, I thought.”

  “It is repulsive,” Daniel said.

  Elliot nodded. “But you know what Jane did, Two Stars? She didn’t shudder or pull away. Just cupped it in her palm and said nothing. When I looked up at her, she was crying.”

  “I don’t want pity.”

  “That wasn’t pity, you fool. It was love. The purest kind. The kind that looked at my hurt and felt it and mourned it.” He paused. “I don’t think I ever loved Jane Williams more than at that moment. When she looked at what I thought was the ugliest part of myself and didn’t retreat—” Elliot gulped and paused. Then he said quietly, “Most people live their whole lives without ever knowing that kind of love.”

  “Jane never knew you when you had two hands.” Daniel said. “It’s different for Blue Eyes and me.”

  “You do Genevieve a great injustice if you really believe that,” Elliot said. “Listen to me, Two Stars: that little wife of yours thinks you hung the stars. And I’m fairly certain she still believes you could hang a few more … even with just one leg.”

  “I can’t even get myself out of bed and take a step,” Daniel said miserably.

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t maneuver that leg Picotte made. It’s like hauling a log around. That’s what made me fall.” He pounded his thigh again.

  “Then think of a better way,” Elliot said. He leaned over and nudged Daniel on the shoulder. “You lost a leg. That’s terrible. But you know something? It’s happened thousands of time before you, and if men continue to be idiots and fight wars, it will likely happen thousands more. Whether it proves to be a minor inconvenience or the end of your happiness is up to you. But I’m telling you from experience that making it a minor inconvenience i
s the much better choice.”

  When Daniel didn’t move to get up off the floor, Elliot stood up. “Look, my friend, I spent months in a hospital having subsequent sections of myself hacked off while the doctors tried to stop the gangrene creeping up my arm. Thankfully the third operation did the trick. You know what I finally learned from all that? In the end, the awful thing that happens isn’t what life is about. Life is about what we do with the awful thing that happens. Of course we feel terrible. We wonder about the future. We’re afraid. We grieve. But there’s a season for all those and then there’s a season to get a grip and get on with life. Think about what the two of you have already been through together, Daniel. Are you going to let this destroy it?”

  “Ask Blue Eyes,” Daniel said, “and John Willets.”

  Elliot snorted. “You know what you are thinking just isn’t true. Not because of him, but because of her.”

  “I don’t want her to see me this way.”

  “It’s too late, best beloved.” Gen’s voice sounded from where she stood at the end of the bed.

  Daniel looked up. He braced himself against the wall, pushed his hands flat against the floor and closed his eyes.

  “Elliot,” Gen said, “if you’ll excuse us, I need to speak with my husband.” She waited for Elliot to leave before stepping across Daniel and sliding down the wall to sit beside him on the floor.

  “I have to ask your forgiveness,” she began. “I knew you were worried about John Willets. But I let you worry. I thought it might make you want to get better. That was wrong.” Daniel started to speak, but she interrupted him. “No. Just let me talk. I’ve never seen you this way before. I don’t mean the leg being gone. I mean the anger and the hurt. And whatever other feelings you have that you won’t share with me. I don’t understand why you won’t share them, but I just want you to know I won’t be walking with John Willets anymore.”

  She moved to where she could look up into his face. “I love you, Daniel Two Stars. It doesn’t matter how angry you get, you can’t send me away and you can’t push me out of your life. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. But I’m not going away. Ever again.”