Heart of the Sandhills Read online

  Amanda pouted, but not for too long. “Of course I will.” And then, just to put him in his place and to remind him, she added, “I’m sure Stephen Bannister will want to come, too. He can bring me.”

  Stephen Bannister. Inwardly Aaron blanched. Stephen Bannister was all the things Aaron was not. Elegant and wealthy, with parents who doted on him and bought him the finest of everything, from a fine pair of matched standardbreds to pull his carriage to the best in tailored suits and leather boots. And, unlike Aaron, Stephen Bannister was going nowhere for this summer. He would be right here in New York, calling on Amanda at every opportunity. Why, Aaron thought, Stephen will probably be sitting next to Amanda in the family pew at church by the third Sunday I’m gone.

  All of this and more flashed through Aaron’s mind as he stood looking down at Amanda. But something else took precedence, and that something was an intangible yearning Aaron felt every time he thought about the West. It was an indiscernible tug, as if he could still hear warriors’ chants around the campfires, still see the faces of the native children, still hear the cries of hopelessness as squaws mourned their dead. That something, Aunt Jane had often told Aaron, was a call. And, Aunt Jane had said, he had best answer it or be haunted for the rest of his life by a sense of failure.

  He was not certain if Aunt Jane was right. But one thing was certain, and that was that he must go West now, this year, and give God the opportunity to speak to him more distinctly about what he, Aaron Riggs Dane, was supposed to do with his life. He had promised God to make himself available, and that promise stood apart from and above everything else in his young life—including, please God, Miss Amanda Whitrock.

  “If she’s the one for you,” Uncle Elliot had said once, “then she will share your dream. And if she cannot share your dream, then trust me, son, you don’t want her.” Uncle Elliot had gone on to say that Amanda was young and spoiled, and that in time Aaron would see what she was made of and know. In the meantime, he had said, Aaron should be about his duty.

  Duty. Aaron was not certain what all his duty included, but he was certain that part of it was to journey West to visit Genevieve and Daniel Two Stars, who had risked their lives more than once to save his. Something in Gen’s letters of late had made Aaron uneasy. They might be leaving Minnesota, she said … but they still longed to see the children. Oh, how he hated being included in that oft-spoken phrase. The Children. Within him, Aaron knew he had not been a child for a very long time. He had ceased being a child the night Daniel Two Stars appeared just in time to save Genevieve from being attacked by his drunken friend Otter. No one knew Aaron understood exactly what had happened that night—what had nearly happened to Gen—but he did. And understanding what could have happened, and knowing he was absolutely powerless to do anything about it, had caused Aaron Dane to grow up in a matter of minutes.

  Now, as he stood looking down into the innocent blue eyes that betrayed the inner workings of Miss Amanda Whitrock, hearing her taunt him with the name Stephen Bannister, Aaron rediscovered his maturity. “Well then,” he said, “that’ll be great. I was worried we might not have room for you in Grandmother Leighton’s old carriage. Meg wants to go, but she’ll have to lie down on one of the seats. She isn’t strong enough to sit up for that long yet. If Stephen can bring you, that’s great.” He stepped away from Amanda and tipped his hat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Aaron was not certain, but he thought he felt two brilliant blue eyes boring holes into the back of his best jacket as he walked back across the street, through the massive ornamental iron gate, up the path, and into Leighton Hall. When he closed the door behind him, he peeked through the lace panel just in time to see Amanda spin around and flounce up to her own front door. With a contented smile, Aaron climbed the winding staircase to the second floor where he soon had Meg howling with laughter as he described an imaginary encounter between Stephen Bannister and a Dakota Indian.

  “Look at that,” Elliot Leighton said, nudging Jane and nodding to where Amanda and Aaron stood on the platform saying their good-byes before Aaron headed west. ‘Already an expert at feminine wiles.”

  Amanda stood looking up at Aaron with an expression of devotion … but all the while her hand was on Stephen Bannister’s arm. She nodded her head and gave Aaron a brilliant smile. She even gave Aaron her hand long enough for him to squeeze it. But the minute he let go she clung to Stephen and let herself be led away.

  Aaron watched while Stephen helped Amanda into his carriage. He was rewarded when Amanda blew a kiss. But she did not protest when Stephen whipped his magnificent team of matched bays into a prancing, dancing display of elegant gaits as they pulled away. Remembering the team of oxen that had pulled his wagon at Lac Qui Parle Mission, Aaron slouched and headed back to where the Leighton’s carriage waited.

  “I’ll miss you, sis,” Aaron said, gently kissing Meg on the cheek.

  “You won’t forget to give Gen my gift,” Meg prodded.

  “It’s right here in my carpetbag where I can keep it safe,” Aaron said gently. He reached for Meg’s hand and poised his bag on the edge of the carriage. “There. Feel that bump? That’s it.”

  Meg smiled bravely. “Tell them—”

  “Yes,” Aaron interrupted. “I’ll tell them you’ll be coming next summer.” He lowered his voice. “And you see that you work hard for your tutor so you are ready.”

  Meg ducked her head and swallowed hard. “I will. I promise.” The train whistle blew and she lifted her head. “I guess that means you’d better go.”

  Aaron kissed her cheek. “I’ll write.”

  “I’ll answer,” Meg said. “Betsy promised she would help.”

  After a flurry of hugs from Hope and Jane, Aaron mounted the steps to the train. Elliot followed. He sat down beside the boy and pounded his knee. “Cheer up,” he said, “Meg’s going to be fine. She’s weak, but she still has the same spirit. She’ll adapt. And you’ll be back long before anything serious can happen between those two.” He nodded toward the carriage bearing Amanda Whitrock toward Stephen Bannister’s home where, she had told Aaron, she would be dining that evening to take her mind off Aaron’s departure.

  Aaron looked out the window. “You think so?” he said hopefully.

  “Of course,” Elliot said. “Miss Whitrock will do the same thing with Stephen she’d be doing with you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She’ll dangle every letter you write under his nose and probably squeeze out a real tear or two just to convince him how she really feels about you. And he’ll spend the summer tied up in knots. Just like you.” He slapped Aaron on the back. After a moment of silence, he grew serious. “Tell Daniel and Robert I’m sorry I haven’t been able to accomplish more for them. But I won’t stop trying. I’ve an appointment with Senator Lance in two weeks, and I’m going to do everything I can to get assigned to the commission visiting Niobrara this summer.”

  Aaron nodded. The conductor shouted his final warning and Elliot stood up to go. “Jane and I are very proud of you, Aaron, as would your father be. Write those letters you promised. Be yourself. And let the good Lord handle Miss Whitrock’s heart.” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder and was gone.

  Uncle Elliot was right, Aaron knew. As the trained pulled out of the station, he determined to follow his uncle’s advice. He would write faithfully. He would pray for Amanda. But most of all, he would get about doing his duty, because only if he was doing God’s will would he ever be truly happy. He had learned that from his father and he believed it with all his heart.

  Pulling his hat down over his eyes, Aaron sighed. The problem was, he thought, believing something didn’t always make it easy to live it.

  Six

  He that hideth hatred with lying lips, and he that uttereth a slander, is a fool.

  —Proverbs 10:18

  On a sunny morning in March, when snowmelt was swelling the streams and converting roads to seas of mud, Daniel Two Stars sat outside the lean-to that se
rved as a barn mending harness. Looking up the road toward the Grants’ house, he could see Gen and Nancy hurrying home.

  “Robert,” Daniel called to his friend, who was carving a new handle for a broken plow. When Robert looked up, Daniel nodded toward the women. At sight of his wife in such a hurry, Robert dropped the piece of wood and hurried toward her.

  “It is time?” he asked, taking Nancy’s arm.

  Breathless with the effort of walking the quarter-mile from the Grants’, Nancy shook her head. “No, no—still too early—” she giggled. “Relax, husband. Everything is fine. Everything is wonderful! Mrs. Marsh—was here—yesterday. She said she has been admiring the railing you made around the Grants’ porch all winter.” Nancy gasped and hiccuped, finally shaking her head and motioning to Gen. “You tell them.”

  “Mrs. Marsh was admiring the porch railing you made.” Gen’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm. ‘And Marjorie began to tell her what a good carpenter you are. She showed her all the other things you made for the house, Robert. The shutters, and those pretty decorations high up on the—” she held her hands over her head, fingertips touching, searching for the word.

  “On the gables?” Robert asked.

  “Yes,” Gen nodded, “those fancy carvings on the gables. Mrs. Marsh loves them. And she said she’s sending her husband to talk to you, to see if you would do the same thing for them. For their new house.” She laughed. “Marjorie was wonderful. She hesitated, said she didn’t know if Jeb could spare you to do the work. And Mrs. Marsh just kept insisting until she said you could charge whatever you wanted.”

  “Doesn’t Mrs. Marsh know I’m one of the Indians her husband thinks is going to murder his family in their sleep?” Robert said doubtfully.

  “She just wants her house to be as pretty as the Grants’,” Nancy giggled. “After she left, Marjorie asked me to make you promise you won’t make anything quite so fancy for the Marshes as you did for her.”

  Daniel patted Robert on the shoulder. “Beware, brother. Being trapped between two women is not a good place for a man to be.”

  “And what would you know about that?” Gen teased.

  Daniel grinned at her and winked. “I can only imagine, little wife.”

  “You’re supposed to wait until Saturday and then drive to the Marshes’. I think she needs that long to convince her husband.” Gen added, “And Marjorie said to tell you Jeb would go along to make certain you get paid what the work is worth. In cash.” Chattering happily, the two women headed inside to begin supper. After they had left, Daniel and Robert unhitched Robert’s team and led them to the corral the two families shared. While he was pumping fresh water for the team, Daniel said hopefully, “Maybe things are changing.”

  Robert shrugged. “I’ve lived long enough to know there is no time limit on hatred in the hearts of men. So have you. And men with such a deep hatred as Abner Marsh are not easily won. What happened back in ‘62 changed our lives forever. We did nothing wrong, but we will suffer alongside those who did.”

  Daniel sighed. “I know I must trust God, but sometimes I do not understand what He is doing.”

  “We have good homes and good wives,” Robert said. “God kept us safe through a terrible winter. Genevieve and Nancy have found friendship with the women. For these things and more, we can give thanks.” He smiled. “I have heard Jeb speak of the Marshes and their house. It is very large. I will need help with this work. Perhaps we will both be able to afford good horses by harvest.”

  Nothing in his recent past could have equaled the horror Daniel Two Stars felt when Abner Marsh came out to greet Robert the day he was to begin work on the “gee-gaws” Mrs. Marsh insisted adorn her expansive new home overlooking New Ulm. As soon as he recognized the man, Daniel jumped down off the wagon and walked to the well where he began to draw water for Robert’s team. He pulled his old army hat down as far over his brow as possible, and stuffed his long braid inside his shirt. And he prayed, how he prayed.

  But Abner Marsh was not a man to miss an opportunity to assert his superior position in the universe. Having introduced himself to Robert, the brawny farmer strode to where Daniel stood, half-hidden behind Robert’s team. Thrusting a huge paw at Daniel he said gruffly, “Abner Marsh.”

  Daniel muttered a greeting and shook the man’s hand without looking up.

  “Don’t take to workin’ with a man what can’t look me in the eye,” he said abruptly. Daniel tipped his head back and peered up into the man’s eyes for an eternal moment, thinking surely this would be the end of life as he knew it. But Marsh only nodded and turned toward Robert. “Don’t take to Injuns as a rule,” he said. “Had a run-in with ‘em before. But Grant says you’re all right. Says you worked as scouts for the army against your own. That right?”

  Robert nodded.

  When neither of the men offered any more comment on their lives as Indian scouts, Marsh grunted. “My missus thinks she’ll die if’n she don’t have those fancy railings and such like you carved for Marjorie Grant.” He reached into his pocket and, withdrawing a wad of tobacco leaves, took a pinch and shoved it in his mouth before asking, “Where’d you learn to carpenter?”

  “Hope Station,” Robert replied. “By the Upper Agency. And I helped build Dr. Wakefield’s home at the Lower Agency.”

  “You one of them mission Indians?” Marsh said. “One of them that got religion?”

  “We are both Christians,” Robert said quietly.

  Marsh snorted. “Only mission Indians I ever saw was the day I caught three of ‘em tryin’ to steal my horses.”

  Robert remained silent, eyeing Marsh carefully.

  Motioning for the men to follow him, Marsh led them to the barn. “Now what I got to show you here is just to get things straight in all our minds,” he said. He led the men inside the barn to a back stall. Inside the stall were three wire cages, each one housing a massive dog. All three were predominantly black, with powerful builds and sleek coats. One had pale gray eyes. At the sight of Daniel and Robert, the one with pale eyes lifted its upper lip, showing huge teeth in a silent snarl. Marsh uttered a strange word and the dogs instantly transformed into raging beasts, furious to escape their cages.

  When he saw both Daniel and Robert take a couple of involuntary steps backward, Marsh smiled. “Now these boys usually have the run of my place. They take good care of things. I taught ‘em only to eat what comes from my hand.” He glared at Daniel. “Had me a bulldog once that was a good dog—until one night an Injun got hold of him by offering him some jerky. Broke that dog’s neck like it was a piece of stick candy.” He grimaced. “Learned my lesson with that one. Used a pair of moccasins from a trader friend to teach these boys to attack anything that smells of Injun. Attack and ask questions later.” He sent a long stream of tobacco juice into the dirt. “I’ll see they get shut up in here right after sunrise on the mornings I know you’re comin’ to work on the place.” He glared at Daniel. “Just see that you don’t surprise me and we’ll all get along fine.” He led the way out of the barn and back to the plain, two-story house.

  Stepping up on the porch, Marsh opened the front door and shouted, “Sally! Come on out and tell these men what you want.” Two young girls’ faces appeared at a window.

  “Them’s my girls,” Marsh said abruptly. “Don’t reckon you’ll have need to talk to them at all.”

  Mrs. Marsh came out on the porch. She was rail thin and so pale as to look ill, but when she extended her bony hand to greet Robert, her grasp was firm. “Now, Abner,” she said in the voice of a woman not often denied her will, “there’s no reason for you to waste good daylight listening to a woman’s plans for fancyin’ up the place. You just go on about your business, and I’ll go on about mine with the carpenters.”

  After making his displeasure known by clearing his throat and spitting another stream of tobacco in disgust, Abner hopped down off the railless porch and headed for the barn. It wasn’t long before he emerged behind a team of mules. “I’ll just
be up plowing the new field, then,” he called up to his wife, who dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Marsh made another attempt at appearing in control of his woman. “See you let the dogs out after these boys are gone,” he said.

  The moment Abner was out of sight, his two daughters appeared at the doorway, tittering like two nervous sparrows. They were pale like their mother, with dull brown hair pulled back into tight buns at the base of their thin necks and hazel eyes that were never still as they glanced nervously from Robert to Daniel and back to Robert.

  “Girls!” Mrs. Marsh said impatiently. “Stop acting like you were raised in a cabbage patch.” She looked down at Robert. “Mr. Lawrence, this is our youngest, Priscilla, and her sister Polly.” She turned to the girls. “Girls, this is Mr. Lawrence’s helper, Mr. Two Stars.”

  Priscilla and Polly offered limp hands to the two men and dipped into exaggerated curtsies, giggling all the while.

  “You must excuse my girls,” Mrs. Marsh said quickly. “Neither of them seems to have ever seen an Indian before.”

  “Oh, Mama!” the girls said in chorus, blushing.

  “Well, then,” Mrs. Marsh said stiffly, “since perhaps you have seen an Indian or two before, it would seem you could stop acting as if you have just discovered the seventh wonder of the ancient world and get some chores done.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Polly murmured.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Pris echoed.

  While the girls shuffled back inside, Robert explained why he wanted to use oak instead of pine for the railing, why just the opposite would work better for the decorations high up on the gables, and how long the work was likely to take.

  While Robert and Mrs. Marsh talked, Daniel watched Abner plowing the field in the distance. His heart slowed down and he relaxed a bit. Presently he found himself thanking God that Abner Marsh had not recognized the only surviving member of the trio of thieves who had once plotted to steal the man’s three best horses.