Lucy's Quilt

by Joyce Livingston

  “Are we going to just sit here and wait for them to kill us?” John asked nervously, his eyes trained on the circling renegades.

  Stone whispered to his interpreter, “Egan, I think we’d better send someone out to talk to the Indians and try to reason with them to avert further bloodshed. Looks to me like we’re at their mercy.”

  Mr. Egan listened intently. “I agree with you. Getting them stirred up won’t help anything. Perhaps talking will. Let me have a try. I’ll ask for a peaceful settlement of this dispute and let them know that a war between our two factions will mean loss to both sides. I’ll tell them, if that happens, the government will certainly step in and take measures of its own.”

  Stone nodded. “Do it.”

  Egan slowly rode toward the Indian who appeared to be in charge, and the two talked in hushed tones.

  “It’s not working. They’re not backing off,” John muttered as his fingers clutched the reins.

  “True. But they’re not making any warlike moves either,” Stone reminded him. “That’s a good sign. Let’s hope our man can convince them nothing good can come to them by attacking us.”

  Taking his gaze off the pair for only a second, Stone singled out two of the younger men. “Ride back to Dove City as quickly as your horses can carry you, and tell the others of what’s happening. Tell them we need reinforcements as soon as possible. Our negotiations here seem to be at a standstill.”

  Without a questioning word, the two men rode off.

  “All we can do is wait,” Stone whispered. “Wait and pray.”

  ❧

  “I wish I were there.” Juliette’s fist banged against the counter. “I hate being left behind and not knowing what’s happening, especially when it could be affecting our very lives.”

  “But you’re a woman. You know what they could do to you—”

  “Not if I had my gun,” Juliette responded resolutely with narrowed eyes and a defiant tilt of her chin. “I’d do whatever was necessary to protect my son and the rest of my family.”

  “Your gun? You don’t have a gun,” her sister reminded her. “You’ve never even shot a gun, have you?”

  Someone stormed into the hotel and announced the Kaw mission had been opened as a temporary shelter for those families waiting for their husbands and fathers to return.

  “Now, what were you saying about having a gun?” Caroline asked as many of the hotel’s overflow of occupants headed out the door.

  “I don’t have a gun, Caroline. If I were a boy, I’d have a gun.”

  Caroline shook her head.

  ❧

  The troop of forty men grew to nearly two hundred as groups of armed men on horseback rode out from Dove City and Clacker County to join the others. With their addition, confidence grew among the settlers.

  “I think we should try to talk to them again, Egan,” Stone advised as he made his way up to their interpreter’s side.

  “I agree.” Egan brought his horse closer to Stone’s and tugged on the reins. “I’m hopeful I can get through to them. I know the Indians personally. I’ve had their children in school. Surely they know we’re a peaceful people, and we’re trying to avoid any more bloodshed.”

  Stone put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You do know the risk, Egan? They could kill you just like that.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis. “Since we’re still outnumbered, we’d be hard-pressed to do much about it. But I have faith in you. I know those Indians look up to you. I think you’re the only one who can negotiate with them effectively.”

  Egan pulled his hat lower on his brow. “I’ll do my best.”

  There was a space of about two hundred yards between where the white men halted and where the Kansa Indians had taken up their position. Stone knew, from the Indians’ vantage point, they could see more reinforcements arriving on the settlers’ side. He hoped they would be dissuaded from taking any action they’d all regret later. God, I know I have no right to ask this, but if You hear me, make them listen to reason. We don’t want war.

  The settlers formed a consolidated line as Egan made his move to speak to Blue Feather a second time. Each man stood ready to advance at the first indication of treachery. Mr. Egan was met by the chief, and the two men talked in low tones.

  The entire troop watched with heightened interest as the chief called together his key men into a guarded circle, where they spoke. He then relayed their decision to Egan, who hurried back to Stone and the others.

  “They’ll surrender the Indian who shot Morgan but not the one who shot Stark. They say they are not sure which man wounded him.”

  “Do you believe him?” Stone asked.

  “No,” came Egan’s quick reply. “I think what they’re doing is trying to save their young brave. I’m sure he’s the one who shot Stark, but he serves on the council and appears to be of great value to the tribe.”

  Stone stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I think we’re all in agreement here, Mr. Egan. Tell the chief we’re not interested in such an arrangement. We’ll accept nothing short of a surrender of the two Indians.”

  A hush fell over both the Indians and settlers as Egan spoke with Blue Feather. Within minutes, he was back with a new offer. “They say they’ll pay us eight hundred dollars and forty ponies as satisfaction for the shooting of Stark, but I said no.”

  “And well you should have,” Stone stated in quick response as his narrowed eyes surveyed the vast number of horses and riders who had gathered on his side. His troops now numbered over four hundred, and he was sure more were on their way. “We will take nothing less than the surrender of those two Indians.”

  Dread ran through the settlers as the young brave suddenly appeared before them, armed and prepared to fight, still wearing his war paint. As he spiraled his arm into the air and shouted to the others, Mr. Egan interpreted in a high-fevered pitch so all could hear. “He says, since they’ve decided to surrender him, thereby sanctioning his death, he’ll sell his life as dearly as possible. If necessary, he’ll kill his own chief, then the white man who demanded his surrender!”

  Nodding, Stone signaled for his men to make ready but to hold their fire.

  Although the brave’s fiery speech seemed to stir up the other young braves, it appeared to have no obvious effect on the tribal elders, who held their silence. Yet, they seemed hesitant to give the man up.

  Stone’s hand moved to grip the saddle horn. He watched as Mr. Egan squared his shoulders and, once again, spoke to Blue Feather.

  “Now what?” John asked, his penetrating look trained on the Indian chief and Egan.

  Stone’s gaze hardened. “Knowing Egan, I’m sure he’s still trying to work something out. All we can do now is wait.”

  The settlers watched impatiently, still hoping for a resolution to the volatile situation. In a matter of minutes, Mr. Egan returned. “Their offer has increased to one thousand dollars and the horses.” He removed his hat and slapped it against his leg, then shook his head wearily. “I told them they have committed an outrage upon the settlers and shed the blood of two innocent people. Unless both are given up, our men are determined to fight.”

  Hating to say the words but knowing they had to be said, Stone nodded. “You were right to tell them that. As much as we hate war, we are prepared to do battle if it becomes necessary. I’m sure they understand our position. What else did you tell them?”

  “Sir, I told them if both Indians are not surrendered by the time I return to my people and count to twenty, the consequences rest upon them. I told them when I set my stick upon the ground, they will know I have finished my count.”

  Stone saluted Claude Egan and instructed, “Then go, Mr. Egan. Take your stick and count. When you have finished counting, set it upon the ground as you’ve said. We’re ready.”

  “Lord, help us. They’re not conceding,” John declared loudly.

  Stone could sense the fear in his voice and was sure John was preparing to die. He reached across and clamped his hand around
his friend’s arm. “Have faith. It’s not over yet. But if we must do battle, let me lead the way. You’re important to your family. Mine cares nothing about me.”

  John shook his head with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Stone. But I’ll do my part in defending our families and friends. If you make it and I don’t—” He hesitated and gulped. “Promise you’ll tell my family I love them and I died to keep them safe.”

  Stone tightened his grip on the man’s arm. “I will, John. I promise; but we’re both going to make it, do you hear?”

  All eyes focused on the courageous mediator as he slowly walked to the halfway mark, then loudly counted to twenty before placing the stick on the ground.

  The silence was deafening. Even the birds stopped their singing as three hundred Indians and at least five hundred settlers sat on their horses, anticipating each other’s next move.

  Suddenly, in a loud, clear voice, the chief yelled out, “We’re ready to give up the two guilty men.”

  A sigh of relief washed across the line as Mr. Egan quickly interpreted the Indian’s words. Men smiled at one another and relaxed their grips on their weapons a bit.

  “God has answered our prayer, Stone,” John cried out as he heard the words of the chief. “We aren’t going to have to fight.”

  Stone leaned forward on his horse and stroked the animal’s mane. “I know, John. I know.”

  Minutes later, the guilty pair were brought forth, bound, and delivered to Deputy Piper.

  “What happens now?” John asked Stone.

  “They’ll be put on their horses and ride back to town behind us. Probably go to trial.”

  “And death?”

  Stone nodded. “Yes. Death.”

  ❧

  “Any word yet?” Juliette asked as she picked up little Steven and hugged him. “It’s been hours since our father left. I pray to God he’s all right.”

  Caroline led her mother to the worn sofa and asked two ladies to scoot over so she could sit down between them.

  “Having those twins on the trail is what ruined her health,” Juliette told her sister, taking her aside so no one else could hear. “Father should never have allowed her to come to Kansas with us. The trip was too hard for her. He should’ve left her behind and gone back for her later.”

  Caroline backed off in surprise, cupping her hand to her mouth before replying. “Left her behind? You know she’d never stand for that. Father and Mother have rarely been separated since the day of their wedding.”

  “If you ask me, I think the idea of bringing a woman with child on such a long journey was stupid,” Juliette said in a whisper as she brushed the dust from her skirt and straightened her bodice. “Especially one in bad health.”

  “But he didn’t ask you,” Caroline reminded her in a snit. “Look at you. Andrew was born not long before we left Ohio. Do you think Father should have left you behind?”

  “Of course not,” Juliette answered indignantly, finding it hard to keep her voice down. “That’s different. I’m only thinking of our mother, Caroline. It makes me sad to see her feeling so poorly all the time.”

  One of the ladies, an elderly woman named Ethel Benningfield, moved from the sofa and made her way toward them. Her gaze concentrated on Juliette. “Dear,” she began with a friendly smile, “please don’t talk that way about your parents. I’m sure if your father had any doubt about bringing your mother along, he wouldn’t have made the trip at all.”

  Surprised by the woman’s words, Juliette simply stared at her.

  “I know you mean well, but one should never criticize her parents’ actions—especially someone with parents like yours. You’re lucky to have them both with you. I lost mine in a fire when I was only nine.”

  “I–I’m so sorry,” Juliette stammered, thinking back over what she’d said. “That must have been very difficult for you.”

  The woman touched Juliette’s wrist as she smiled up into her eyes. “You have no idea how difficult. God has given you girls wonderful, godly parents. Love them while you still have them, and support them in everything they do. They always have your best interests at heart.” With that, the woman turned and walked away.

  “I didn’t think anyone could hear us,” Juliette whispered to Caroline. “But she’s right. I should never have criticized Father for bringing Mother along. My mouth is always getting me in trouble.”

  One of the wives who’d moved outside earlier burst into the lobby. “They’re coming! There’s a terrible cloud of dust on the horizon.”

  Everyone hurried outside, hoping to see their loved ones returning. Juliette and Caroline followed close behind, carrying their siblings.

  “Father has to be all right,” Caroline said as she shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. “It would kill Mother if anything happened to him.”

  “When I marry again, I’m going to be strong for my husband. I’m going to ride by his side as an equal. I won’t let him leave me behind.”

  “Ha,” her sister retorted. “You’re just looking for trouble, Juliette. If Father heard you talk—”

  “Well, I am,” she broke in. “My husband will be proud to have a strong woman for a wife.”

  Caroline laughed aloud. “What husband? I haven’t seen any men pursuing you lately, Mrs. Martin—rich or poor.”

  Juliette tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “That’s because you haven’t noticed. Only today,” she bragged, “a man told me he was going to marry me.”

  “Who?”

  Now she had her sister’s full attention. “I’m not telling.”

  Caroline smirked. “Because you’ve made him up, that’s why.”

  Juliette lifted her chin arrogantly. “Did not. He’s a real man and a handsome one too, I might add. And he has a beard.”

  Her sister moved closer. “Who, Juliette? Who? If he was real, you’d tell me his name.”

  “I’m not telling. It’s our secret—his and mine.”

  Caroline cocked her head and looked dubious. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  “Of course not. I don’t lie. I can’t stand people who lie.”

  “Then tell me who he is.”

  “Only when we’re ready to announce our engagement.”

  Caroline’s eyes grew bright with anticipation. “You mean you’ve accepted?”

  Juliette thought for a minute. As usual, she’d said more than she’d intended. It was a nasty habit of hers, making more of something than it really was. Well, she’d backed herself into a corner, and her sister was waiting for an answer. She drew a deep breath, and deciding how much she could say without telling one of those lies she hated so much, she looked directly into her sister’s eyes. “Not yet. I’m still thinking about it.”

  Three

  Stone tugged his hat low on his brow with a relieved grin as he and John rode ahead of his men. “Well, things certainly look better now than they did this morning.”

  The look on John’s face grew serious. “Better in some ways. Worse in others.”

  Stone’s brow creased. “Worse? I don’t understand.”

  “I may not have a job.”

  “Oh?” Stone responded. “Why’d you say that?”

  John pulled off his hat and swatted at the sweat bee buzzing around his face. “Charles Stark owned the hotel. With him gone now, I have no idea what his family will do with it. His wife is too old to run the place, and his children have no interest in it. That’s why he hired me. If I lose my job at the hotel, we won’t even have a roof over our heads.”

  “You and your family can stay with me until you line something up. You’re always welcome in my home. I’ve got plenty of room, even for your large family.”

  “And three squalling infants?”

  Stone grinned. “Even them.”

  The group rode victoriously into town and stopped in front of the general store, filling the street to overflowing with relieved faces and renewed spirits. Women and children moved in to hug their husbands, fathers, and
brothers and for a better look at the two Indian braves tied onto their horses.

  “Hang them!” a voice shouted from the back of the crowd. “They killed Charley and Mr. Morgan. They deserve to die!”

  The crowd took up the chant. “Hang them. Hang them.”

  Thomas Ward stepped out from his store and lifted his hand for silence. “Without a trial? You want these men hanged?”

  “They didn’t give Charley Stark a trial, and he hadn’t done nothing to them,” one of the older men called out as he shook a fist in the air. “I say hang them. Here and now.”

  “He’s right,” called out another. “Hang them.”

  Again the crowd took up the chant. “Hang them. Hang them.”

  Thomas Ward raised his arms in defeat as he called out loudly, “Then let their blood be on your hands!”

  A pair of nooses were readied at an old cottonwood tree next to the bridge. The crowd, chanting and shouting, followed as the two men’s horses were led to the spot.

  In final protest, Thomas Ward stepped up onto a stump where all could see him and shouted to the crowd, “Should these men be hanged without a court? Or an attorney? Or without a judge to hear their case? Is that what you say?”

  “There is no case,” Mr. Stark’s widow shouted. “They killed my husband, a good man. Now, they deserve to die.” Several of the younger men led the violators’ horses beneath the nooses and slipped the loops over the Indians’ heads as the shouts of the crowd spurred them on. Thomas Ward scanned the crowd again. “These men shed the blood of two white men who did them no injury, and justice demands they should suffer death. Is that what ye say?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes!” came the unanimous cry from the people.

  Mr. Ward raised a fist into the air. “Then, so be it.”

  A hush of anticipation fell over the assembled throng. Mothers covered the eyes of impressionable children, and husbands wrapped their arms about sensitive wives. The certainty of impending death hung heavily in the air as every adult focused on the men whose demise was only seconds away.

  Juliette felt a strong arm about her shoulders. It was Stone. At that moment, she needed the strength of a good man. About to witness her first hanging, the fiery independence she normally felt had been replaced with little girl fear. As she felt his arms tighten around her, she leaned into him for support.