Heart of the Sandhills Read online

  Abner looked at the dogs and smiled so broadly his tobacco-stained teeth shone in the fading light. Slowly, he picked up the bones. He hung the bucket high on a hook and left the barn. At supper, he teased his girls, confused by their subdued manner.

  When Sally got up to clear the table, he looked at her with a scowl. “What’d you do to yourself, Sal?” he asked.

  Sally looked down at him with surprise. He touched her cheek. “I got to fix that loose board on the porch. I’m sorry, Sal. That must have been a hard fall.”

  Sally raised her hand to her cheek. She didn’t speak, and while the girls busied themselves clearing the table, Abner got up from the table and headed outside. They could hear him hammering late into the night.

  “Finally!” Nancy panted, leaning over to peer at the puddle of water on the earth. She extended her hand to Gen. “We’ll just go on inside,” she said between contractions. When Gen expressed concern that the men had gone up to Fort Ridgely to talk to Captain Willets again, Nancy smiled. “He’ll be back soon enough. He’d only make a fuss right now, and it will surely be—awhile.” As a contraction gripped her, she struggled to manage the last few words, stopping just inside the cabin door and breathing deeply. “I’m fine,” she encouraged Gen. “Remember I’ve done this twice before. You get some water to heating. I’m going—to—lie—down.”

  “Marjorie wanted to be here,” Gen reminded her as she grabbed a bucket and headed outside to get water.

  “You go,” Nancy called from the bedroom. “Things seem to be calming down a little. I’ll be fine. Just hurry.” There was still plenty of time for Robert to get back before his baby entered the world. Nancy settled back on the bed, willing herself to breathe deeply, thanking God for the new life, surprised by the stab of grief she felt behind all the anticipation and joy. She had become accustomed to the ever-present absence of her two lost children.

  The army had said they were protecting them back in ‘62 when they crowded women and children inside a stockade just outside Fort Snelling. Perhaps they were. The enraged citizens of Minnesota threatened to break through the stockade often enough that awful winter. But in protecting them, the soldiers also killed them. Disease spread quickly in the camp. Being underfed and half-frozen most of the time took its toll first on the very young and the very old. It took Nancy and Robert’s children.

  As contraction after contraction wracked her body, Nancy began to think perhaps she had not impressed Gen with enough of a need to hurry. After all, she scolded herself, she had already given birth twice. This third child might come more quickly. Having been so stubborn about entering the world, having resisted so long, perhaps it had finally decided to hurry into the world. Certainly it had begun to feel that way. She wished Gen would come. She could birth a baby alone if need be, but she didn’t want to.

  In one short burst, things became serious. Nancy reached over her head and gripped the tree limb forming the headboard of their handmade bed. Her ability to reason or think was obliterated by the intense pressure as the baby sought its way into the world. Being alone no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but herself and the child and the wonderful, horrible thing that was happening. She prayed for strength, she yelled, she pushed, and finally, she felt her child slip from her body.

  Panting and crying, Nancy reached for what appeared to be a lifeless body. But he was not lifeless. The moment she lifted him into her arms he wailed lustily. She lay him across her abdomen and wrestled with the pillow next to her, removing the pillowcase, cleaning him as best she could. When her body expelled the placenta, she lay the baby down. Slipping to her knees beside the bed, she whispered a prayer before rising to her feet and wobbling across to the kitchen where she found a knife. Returning to the bed, she cut through the cord that had once carried life from her body to her son. She made her way back to the bed, to the clean side. Climbing beneath the muslin sheet she lay her head back on Robert’s striped pillow. She managed to wrap the baby more securely in Robert’s pillowcase. Then, cradling him in her arms, Nancy brought him to her breast. He latched on willingly, raising a tiny fist to his mother’s flesh, a diminutive symbol of ownership and life. Looking down at the scrunched-up face, stroking the silken black hair, Nancy wept.

  It was nearly dark when Robert and Daniel and Aaron returned from another visit to Fort Ridgely and Captain John Willets. This one had borne fruit. Things were heating up in the West. Willets expected to receive his orders to head West any day. If Robert and Daniel wanted to sign on as scouts, they’d not only be welcome, they would have immediate and pressing duties. And their wives could certainly go as far as Fort Wadsworth in Dakota. Both men were pleased to learn that, with the help of the fort physician, the Christian Dakota had founded a thriving church. Captain Willets had heard the missionaries were planning their summer camp meetings not far from Fort Wadsworth. Mrs. Lawrence and Mrs. Two Stars might even be able to get reacquainted with some of the mission teachers they had known before the uprising. The news convinced Robert that he could grant Nancy’s wish to stay close to Genevieve. All in all, Daniel and Robert were satisfied. They would both sign on as scouts.

  Captain Willets even hinted that if Aaron wanted to ride west as a civilian aide, something might be arranged.

  “Edward Pope always likes having help in the kitchen,” Willets had said, smiling at Aaron. “If you don’t think taking orders from a cook is beneath you.”

  “I’ll do anything,” Aaron replied. “Anything at all.”

  “I like your attitude, young man,” Willets had said. And he had taken Aaron to meet Pope.

  It had been a good day for the men, and they rode back to the Grant farm rejoicing. When no light shone from their cabin windows and no smoke rose from their chimneys to welcome them home, neither man was worried. Robert glanced up the hill toward the Grants’ and muttered something about women and quilting. “Late supper, I suppose,” he said. “Might as well bed down the horses before we go get the women.” They rode by the Lawrences’ on their way to the small shed that served them both for a barn.

  “Robert! Robert! Is that you?” Nancy’s weak voice called out from inside the cabin.

  Robert and Daniel dismounted and hurried inside. Still, neither one thought anything was terribly amiss. While Daniel lighted a lamp and Aaron fired up the stove, Robert lifted his son from Nancy’s arms and nuzzled the baby’s cheek, his face streaming with happy tears.

  “Tell Gen and Marjorie to come in,” Nancy finally said.

  The men looked at one another with raised eyebrows.

  “Aren’t they with you?” Nancy said. She laughed softly. “I told Gen I didn’t think it would be long.” She shrugged. “Obviously I was wrong.”

  “Stay,” Daniel said to Robert. “Enjoy your new son.” He motioned for Aaron to follow him outside. “We’ll see about Blue Eyes and Marjorie.”

  He tried to ignore the sensation in his belly. He told Aaron not to worry. Still, he broke into a lope only a few feet from the Lawrences’ cabin, and a few strides later he was running.

  Somehow, he knew what Marjorie would say.

  “Genevieve? Nancy’s had her baby? But Genevieve hasn’t been here, Daniel,” Marjorie said. She recovered quickly. “Jeb rode into town. If Aaron can watch the boys, I’ll get down the hill to Nancy right away. You see about Genevieve, Daniel.” She hurried toward the stairs. “I’ll just collect a few things and be right down.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth when they heard a horse tear into the farmyard. “Barn’s on fire!” Jeb screamed at the top of his lungs. “Barn’s on fire!”

  The mystery of Genevieve’s absence was lost in the fury of the next half hour.

  Marjorie ordered the twins to stay on the porch while she ran for the well and began pumping water into the horse trough. Robert tore up the hill and joined the men who had disappeared into the smoke pouring out the barn door.

  A few buckets and farm tools and the plow were dragged outside. They had just managed to
get Jeb’s team and harness out when the roof fell in, sending a shower of sparks high in the darkening sky. The men staggered toward the well, coughing and sputtering, plunging their hands into the horse trough and scrubbing their faces. While they recovered, information was shared in short bursts. No one had seen any trace of Genevieve. Nancy was all right. Marjorie would take the twins and go down to stay with her. Jeb would stand guard over them with his rifle while the rest of them looked for Genevieve.

  While Robert and Aaron saddled the horses, Daniel headed down the hill to retrieve their bed rolls. When his friends caught up with him, he was on his knees just inside his front door, clutching a piece of paper in his hands.

  Aaron pulled the piece of paper from his hand and read aloud:

  THE ONLY GOOD INDIAN IS A DEAD INDIAN.

  Eleven

  Recompense to no man evil for evil … dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves …

  —Romans 12:17, 19

  “Please,” Gen begged. “I can’t—I can’t breathe.” She struggled to sit up, but in one savage move her captor slammed her back onto her side. She could smell damp earth beneath her, and something else. Oh, yes. The dogs. They were quiet now, but the dogs were here. A blast of cool air made her shiver. She lay still, waiting. How long, she wondered, how long have I been here? She tried to make herself think back, hoping it would help her breathe more evenly and gain more control over the sense of desperation. She turned her head, struggling to shift the foul-smelling cloth tied so tightly around her face so she could fill her lungs with air, but when she moved again he shoved her harder.

  She didn’t know how long she had been in this place. One moment, she was hurrying along the road toward the Grants’ to summon Marjorie for the birth of Nancy’s baby. The next, something dropped out of a tree behind her and everything went black.

  “I’ll be back,” a man’s voice grunted, “don’t move or my dogs will eat you alive.”

  At the sound of the man’s steps retreating, she listened carefully and in the ensuing silence thought she could discern the presence of two, perhaps three, animals. She could hear them panting. She tested the man’s warning by wiggling her foot. Immediately, there was a low growl. She spoke and the growl stopped. But when she moved her foot again, the growl came back, forcefully punctuated by snarls.

  One of the dogs came to where she lay. She tried to lie still, praying desperately while the animal went over the entire length of her body sniffing her, all the while sounding a low rumble in his throat. Moisture from what she could only think was the dog’s mouth salivating at the thought of chewing her flesh wet her bare arms.

  After what seemed like hours, footsteps sounded and the man returned. He tossed something behind him and she could hear the dogs tear into it. He grabbed her and made her sit up, then slammed her against something hard. He pulled the blindfold off. She blinked and tried to focus. In the darkness her attention was drawn to his eyes, so filled with hatred Gen shrank back against what she now realized was the wall of a cave.

  She couldn’t see the entrance. He had built a small fire or it would have been completely dark. She almost wished it were. If it were dark, she wouldn’t have those eyes peering at her. The fire produced just enough light to send the dogs’ shadows dancing on the cave walls. Still, she couldn’t make out enough of the man’s outline to discern much about him.

  He sat opposite her, staring at her. When he finally got up, Gen realized he was a giant of a man. It was all she could do to keep from flinching when he crouched next to her and lifted her chin to inspect her face. She closed her eyes, afraid to look at him.

  He swore and called her a vile name. “Look at me!” ‘When she opened her eyes, he smiled wickedly. “Good. At least you’re not pretending you don’t speak English.” He sat back down opposite her. “I know a lot about you. Do you know who I am?”

  She shook her head.

  He jerked the gag off her mouth. “Answer me.”

  Blinking back tears, Gen stammered, “N-n-no. I d-d-don’t know y-you.” She swallowed.

  “Well, you will before this is over. You’ll never forget me, either. I’ll guarantee you that.”

  When this is over … she would remember. He didn’t mean to kill her. The surge of joy Gen felt was immediately replaced with a shudder of dread, for there were worse things than dying and the way this man was staring at her made her wonder if he had a few of those things planned.

  “I suppose you’re wonderin’ why?” he asked abruptly, throwing a log onto the fire.

  “Y-y-yes,” was all Gen could manage.

  “I’ll tell you. But first you have to tell me somethin’. You have to tell me what makes an Indian so stupid he don’t know when he ain’t wanted. What makes him think he can put down roots and farm land filled with the bones of people he’s killed.” The man didn’t wait for Gen to speak. Instead, he reached behind him and dragged a bucket out of the shadows and shoved it at Gen, who flinched when she saw the human skull atop what must be a pile of bones.

  When Gen didn’t say anything, the man picked up the skull. He inspected it for a moment, then turned it in his hands and held it so that it appeared to be looking at her. When she tried to look away, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at it.

  “That’s what they done,” he said. “Killed and killed and killed again. Emptied the whole territory. And now they think we’re going to let them back in to farm like nothin’ ever happened.”

  “Daniel and Robert didn’t do any of it.” She held back tears, begging, “Please let me go. We only want to live in peace. To be left alone.”

  “You want to live in peace and be left alone, you get that buck of yours and his friends to pack up and get out of this county.”

  “Is that why you brought me here? To frighten us into leaving?” She spoke quickly. “But we’re going. As soon as Daniel’s reward money comes. And Nancy’s baby. That’s all. We’re just waiting for the money to buy good horses … and the baby.”

  Afraid to meet his gaze, Gen looked past him. “Please,” she begged softly, “just let me go. There won’t be any trouble if you just let me go before anyone gets hurt.”

  He laughed roughly. “Now who you think’s gonna get hart? Not me. Not my family.” He stood up. “Ain’t nobody goin’ to care much about one little squaw no bigger’n a schoolgirl.”

  “My husband was a scout for the army,” Gen said. “He’ll find us.”

  The man laughed again. “He ain’t gonna be lookin’ for you yet. Not when there’s a barn fire to fight. And beside that, I made plans. We ain’t anyplace he’s goin’ to think to look.”

  A barn fire? Whose barn had he burned? Surely not Jeb’s. Gen tried to think what to say. Finally, she said, “He’ll follow your trail.”

  “I didn’t leave no trail,” the man said.

  “Everyone leaves a trail. Daniel can follow anything.”

  “You think I’m stupid?!” The man slammed the skull back into the bucket and called the dogs to him. With a wicked smile on his lips he whispered something low and the dogs went wild, snarling and snapping at Gen. She put her hands over her head and pulled her knees up to her chin, cowering against the wall, barely managing to keep from screaming.

  As suddenly as the dogs had begun to bark, they stopped. Gen hadn’t heard the man give them the order, but they just curled up in a pile against the opposite wall, watching her. One by one, the man slipped a rope over their necks and tethered them to pegs he drove into the floor of the cave. He turned toward her again. When he pulled a huge knife from his pocket and opened it, she shrank away.

  “I ain’t gonna’ hurt you,” he said. He bent over and freed her hands. Then he handed her a sack. “Eat. I got things to tell you.”

  Gen pulled a stale half-loaf of bread from the sack and began to gnaw on it while he talked.

  “I had me a good place up by Acton back in ‘62,” he said. “Everything was goin’ good. Then one mornin’ early I wake up to find three young
Dakota bucks in my barn about to make off with my horses.”

  Abner Marsh. Dear God, it’s Abner Marsh, and he knows it was Daniel.

  Marsh stopped midsentence. He stirred the fire and peered at Gen. “Seems like maybe you know this story.” He sat back, nodding. “Guess you can see how I don’t think too much of all those sad stories about how the poor Injun’s been mistreated. Me and my missus and the two girls got away just in time to see our place go up in flames.” He stared at the fire. “My Sally’s never been the same since.”

  “I know about—” Gen swallowed hard. When Abner looked at her, she tried to soften her voice. “She told the women about your baby boy. At quilting one day. I’m very sorry.”

  “I’m not a bad man,” Abner said. “I want peace, too. And as soon as every last Injun is out of Minnesota, I’ll have it.” He stood up slowly. “I’m goin’ to let you go tomorrow mornin’—if you promise that soon as you get there, you and your friends will pack up and get out of my part of the country.” He paused. “If you don’t, the next time somethin’ burns down, it just might be Jeb Grant’s house instead of his barn.”

  “They’ll know you did it,” Gen said. “They’ll know and they’ll come for you.”

  Abner roared with laughter. “Who’ll come for me? You think the sheriff in New Ulm is gonna take action to help Injuns? You think my neighbors are gonna come against me on your account? Fact is most of ‘em agree with me. They don’t want your kind anywhere near their families.” He spat on the ground. “They’re just too lily-livered to do anything about it.”

  “Nancy’s had the baby. Today.” Gen tried to make her voice sound conciliatory. “You don’t have to do anything more. We were just waiting for Nancy’s baby. Captain Willets up at Fort Ridgely is waiting for Daniel and Robert to come.”

  Abner stooped down before her. His eyes were dark slits. He rubbed his thumb across Gen’s chin, down her throat and across the front of her dress, then down her arm and across the back of her hand. There was no pressure, but the suggestion made Gen’s skin crawl. “Well now,” he said, “that’s good news. Guess we’ll just look on this little incident as insurance. Something that will make it clear in our minds. Keep your men from changing their minds.” He looked at her and licked his lips. “Anyone talks about changing their mind and staying on, you’ll be able to set ‘em straight.”