Red Bird (Prairie Winds Book 2)

by Whitson, Stephanie Grace

  Jim came in the back door with an armload of wood just as Carrie said, “Ned, would you do the honors today? Then I need volunteers.”

  Several hands shot up and the schedule of fire tending was easily arranged. From the back of the schoolroom, Jim tipped his hat and nodded at Carrie, going back outside and heading back to home and morning chores.

  Carrie asked, “Now, if there are no more questions—”

  Tess Carter raised her hand.

  “Tess, you have a question?”

  Tess nodded somberly and slipped out of her seat. Approaching Carrie’s desk, she looked with wide eyes at Carrie’s left hand. Carrie resisted the urge to curl her hand into a fist and shove it into her lap. Clearing her throat, she said quietly, “What did you want to ask, Tess? It’s all right. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  Gently Tess reached across the desk to pat Carrie’s hand. Her eyes welled up with tears and her little chin trembled as she whispered hoarsely, “Does it hurt, Miss Brown?” She looked up with loving eyes and waited for Miss Brown to answer. Carrie’s throat grew tight as she managed to answer, “Oh, no, Tess. It doesn’t hurt at all.” Tess was not satisfied. She nodded, but one tear spilled down her cheek. “I was thinkin’, Miss Brown, if Ned and me hadn’t had to ride Lakota that day, you would have, you would have—” Tess lowered her head and began to sob. “I’m sorry, Miss Brown. We didn’t mean for you to—”

  Carrie was nearly overcome with emotion. She reached out for Tess’s little hand and clutching it, pulled Tess around the desk and into her arms. “Oh, Tess. Dear, sweet, little Tess. Don’t you think for one moment that I have ever regretted having you and Ned with me. Didn’t Ned keep you good and warm inside his coat? And didn’t Lakota take us all home? Why, it wasn’t your fault I was too silly to hang on to Lakota’s tail. And didn’t God provide a haystack when I needed it? Why, Tess, I can still walk and I can still teach, and look—" Carrie held out her hand and ran Tess’s finger along the scar. “See, Honey. It doesn’t hurt at all. I can still walk and I can still do just about everything with this hand that I ever could. I can do what’s most important, too. I can still hug my schoolchildren!” Carrie hugged Tess. Looking up at the rest of the class she said, “I have learned that the best way to deal with fear is to talk about it. So if any of you other children want to talk about things, you just ask me. Don’t be afraid to ask.”

  No hands were raised, and so Carrie stood up and began the day of school.

  “This morning,” she began, “I think we will begin by writing a composition. It shall be called ‘The Blizzard of ’86,’ and I want each one of you to write down everything you remember about the blizzard: what it felt like to you, how it affected your families, everything you can remember. We’re going to put our papers into a book, and then someday, when someone wants to know what it was like, they will have our memories. You may begin now. We will work for the next twenty minutes, and then have a brief recess before going back to our study of the Revolutionary War.” A groan went up from the back row. Carrie looked at Philip Damrow. “Which reminds me, Philip, you were to recite the preamble to the Constitution for me that day when we had to dismiss school early. You must work on that. Be prepared to recite on Friday.”

  School District 117 in Roca, Nebraska, was back in session.

  Chapter 30

  Surely as I have thought, so shall it come to pass; and as I have purposed, so shall it stand.

  Isaiah 14:24

  J im Callaway was forking hay into Lakota’s stall when he saw the mare jerk her head up from where she had been snuffling through the fresh hay. She stopped chewing for a moment. Her small ears pricked forward and she listened carefully. Jim stopped forking hay and cocked his head, listening. A horse was coming up the road. The sound of hoofbeats grew louder as the horse turned in at the farm. Jim went to the barn door and peered out just in time to see Soaring Eagle dismount and lead his horse to the well.

  At the same time Jim stepped out the barn door, LisBeth emerged from the house. “How did you find us? How did you know where to find us?”

  “I found the livery in Lincoln. Joseph Freeman told me where to find you.”

  “But how did you find Lincoln?”

  Soaring Eagle finished drawing the bucketful of water up the deep well. He set the bucket down for his horse and leaned back against the side of the well, pushing his hat back on his head and wiping some grime off his forehead with the back of his hand. “The salt flats,” he said matter-of-factly. When LisBeth looked confused, he shook his head. “Did you think the white people who began that city of Lincoln were the first ones to see those salt flats? The Sioux, and other tribes, came there long before any white man ever knew they existed. I knew the way to the salt flats. After that, I followed the rails of the train to the train station and across the street to the livery. From what you said about Joseph Freeman, I knew he would help me find you.”

  Jim reached for the horse’s reins. “I’ll see your horse gets bedded down, Soaring Eagle. You go on with LisBeth. I know you want to see J.W.” Jim headed for the barn and Soaring Eagle followed his sister into the house and through the kitchen to the bedroom where J.W. lay sleeping.

  “He still takes a morning nap,” LisBeth whispered. “But he’ll be awake soon.”

  Soaring Eagle looked at the sleeping baby and murmured, “He has our father’s chin.”

  The two went back into the kitchen before LisBeth answered. “Yes, I thought so, too, from what you’ve told me. His eyes are gray-green, like his pa’s.”

  Soaring Eagle went to the door. “I will help Jim with the horse.” He went outside without waiting for LisBeth to answer.

  In the barn, Jim had already unsaddled Soaring Eagle’s horse and was rubbing it down. In the walkway just outside the stall sat an old carpetbag and a parfleche. When Soaring Eagle came into the barn, Jim nodded. “Looks like you’re planning a good visit. I’m glad.”

  “Dr. Riggs thinks that I need what he called ‘a time of refreshing.’ ”

  “From what we heard from Charity Bond about your time up on the Cheyenne River, Dr. Riggs is right,” Jim offered. He was currying the horse’s tail and just escaped a kick. He grinned. “Tell me you didn’t break this horse, Soaring Eagle. ’Cause if you did, you’re slipping.”

  Soaring Eagle smiled in spite of himself. “No, I didn’t break this one. But I intend to break his habit of kicking while I am here.” He sat on a pile of hay bales in the walkway.

  Jim began to meticulously comb the horse’s mane, fingering at imaginary cockleburrs until he picked up a brush and began to rub the already shining coat. When he could find no other reason to continue grooming the horse, Soaring Eagle still had not moved from the hay bales.

  Jim headed back toward the barn door. “Come on down here. Let’s work on the tack a bit.” The two men walked to the open area at the east end of the stalls where sunlight poured in the open door. Jim pulled down a pile of harnesses and, opening a tin of saddle soap, began to work. Soaring Eagle joined him.

  Abruptly, Jim offered, “You’re welcome for as long as you want to stay. I could sure use the help on the place.”

  Soaring Eagle looked up, surprised.

  Jim shrugged and said, “It’s been a long time since I stumbled onto this place, friend. But I remember needing quiet—a place to just be for a spell, until I sorted things out.”

  “I would sleep in the barn.”

  “Stay as long as you can, Soaring Eagle. If you’ve a mind to, you can help with spring planting. Lakota’s due to foal any day. Joseph Freeman will be bringing out a string of prospects for his livery next week. I promised I’d help gentle ’em, get ’em ready for city streets.”

  Soaring Eagle broke in abruptly, “Is Carrie Brown all right?”

  Jim laid aside his harness and leaned forward. “She’s fine. Really. She’s amazed everyone with her reaction to things. She rehabilitated faster than the doctor thought possible. Sent her grandparents back to St. Lou
is in only three weeks. She was already walking by then.”

  “But in here.” Soaring Eagle looked at Jim, touching his chest. “In here?”

  Jim rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “As far as anyone can tell, she’s doing great. Why don’t you ride over and see for yourself? She started teaching school today.” At the look of amazement on Soaring Eagle’s face, Jim smiled. “Yep. That’s right. In fact, you probably rode right near the schoolhouse where she’s teaching. Go on over.”

  “Which way?” he wanted to know.

  Jim pointed. “Three miles straight north. The school’s at the top of a hill just after the creek takes a turn back to the east. There’s a hedge along the road.”

  Soaring Eagle rummaged in his parfleche and then went to the door.

  Jim offered, “Take Lakota there, she’s yours anyway.”

  Soaring Eagle shook his head. “No. I’ll walk.” He stopped to get a drink at the well and headed back out onto the road, towards the school.

  LisBeth saw him heading up the road and came to the barn. “Is he all right?” she wanted to know.

  Jim shook his head. “I don’t know, LisBeth. He’s going to stay awhile. Help me work the place.”

  LisBeth smiled with pleasure. “Wonderful. He’ll get to know J.W.” She walked down the walkway to the end of the barn and opened a door. “Do you think we can fix this tack room up for him, Jim?” she called out.

  Jim nodded. “You bet. I’ll get it cleaned out and we’ll set up a cot.”

  LisBeth was inspired with plans. “I’ll get some of the gingham, tack up some curtains. The little stove we packed away should be just right for this corner. Then he can make his own coffee if he wants it.” She headed back towards Jim, almost tripping over the parfleche. “What’s this?”

  “Soaring Eagle brought it. He didn’t explain. Guess it’s important to him.”

  LisBeth resisted the urge to open the parfleche. Instead, she headed for the house to retrieve a bucket and mop, a scrub brush and soap, to prepare a room in the barn for her brother who was at that moment walking down the road towards a schoolhouse, with a small bundle under his arm.

  During recess at the schoolhouse, Carrie had been surprised to see a wagon approaching. Ben and Ellie Carter hopped down and approached the school, where Carrie sat on the edge of the porch. “Hello, Miss Brown,” Ellie said shyly, handing Carrie a basket. “I brung these to say thankee—fer what you did fer Ned and Tess.” Ellie backed away, nearly hiding behind Ben. Carrie peeked under the napkin and pulled out a garland of strung dried apples and green beans.

  “Why, thank you, Mrs. Carter,” was all she got a chance to say, because suddenly another wagon was approaching.

  Ben Carter explained. “Us parents decided we ought to give you a proper welcome back, Miss Brown. If you got no objections, we’d like to have a little picnic lunch here—for you and the children.”

  Carrie smiled and nodded, and before long there were several wagons lined up at the schoolhouse. The wagons held planks and sawhorses, and tables were set up and a feast spread for parents and children alike. When Carrie Brown slowly made her way down the stairs of the schoolhouse and across the short distance to the place of honor at the table, the parents and children applauded. Carrie blushed furiously, not knowing what to say.

  Ben Carter spoke up. “This here is a good day for District 117. We got our teacher back, and every child that was caught by the storm made it home to safety.” Ben shifted his weight from one foot to another before continuing. “Miss Brown, some amongst us had things to say when we got a teacher without her college degree.” He squinted meaningfully at Philip Damrow’s parents. “But, fact is, Miss Brown, we want to keep you. The school board has authorized me to offer you a raise if you’ll stay on next year.”

  Caught by surprise, Carrie didn’t know how to respond. She had already discussed her options with Augusta Hathaway, and worked out a plan for finishing at the university in spite of the new physical challenges. Now she wasn’t so certain she needed that plan.

  “Thank you, Mr. Carter. I’ll—” Carrie paused. “I’ll certainly consider your offer.” Maybe I could attend the summer session, take double hours. She was already considering how she might finish her university degree and at the same time continue to educate these children.

  For another hour the children played and Carrie visited with their parents. Then, as if a bell had been rung, the parents rose and cleaned up the picnic, packed the tables into the backs of their wagons, and trundled towards home. Wagons headed in every direction as Carrie mounted the steps and rang the school bell to resume classes.

  She smiled with pleasure at the presence of yet another surprise on her desk. But as she made her way up the aisle, her heart began to pound. It looked like—it couldn’t be—and yet, it was. A little bundle wrapped in soft elkskin, tied with thongs. As quickly as she could, she rushed back to the doorway of the little schoolhouse while the children filed inside and settled into their desks.

  Carrie stepped outside the door and searched the schoolyard, the trees, the horizon. There was no one visible. Still, it seemed that there must be some one there—watching, waiting.

  “What ’cha doin’, Miss Brown?” Tess Carter’s voice called from the doorway. “You all right, Miss Brown?”

  Carrie turned around. “Yes, yes, Tess. I’m fine. I was just—” Without finishing her sentence, she turned to go back inside. At her desk, she heeded the children’s curious questions and said simply, “This is something from my childhood.” With trembling hands she unwrapped the skins and held up Ida Mae. “This was my first doll. I gave her to a friend,” Carrie stopped. “I really can’t explain it, children. Let’s go on with our lessons. First grade come forward for arithmetic.”

  When Soaring Eagle returned to the farmstead and went into the barn, he heard a child laughing. The sound came from a little room at the far end of the walkway. And just as he started down the walkway, a little boy emerged, toddling carefully along, clutching a scrub brush in his hands. He looked up at Soaring Eagle with great, dark eyes, and studied him carefully. Soaring Eagle didn’t move toward the child, but crouched down and looked at him without moving. With only a moment’s hesitation, the child smiled brightly and toddled toward him. Stopping by the parfleche he leaned over to bang on the stiff rawhide top. It gave way, and J.W. tumbled into the hay, bumping his head on a stall board. Smiles instantly became tears of rage.

  LisBeth hurried after J.W., but Soaring Eagle had already swooped the boy up and whispered something in his ear. The child stopped crying immediately, grabbed his uncle’s long hair, and pulled ferociously. Soaring Eagle laughed. J.W. giggled back.

  LisBeth folded her arms and leaned back against the doorway. “You’ve charmed him already.”

  “He’s a fine boy, my sister.”

  “Just like his uncle, and his father and grandpa too.”

  Jim came in. “Time to hitch up and go get Carrie. Want to ride along?” He looked at Soaring Eagle, who surprisingly, shook his head. Puzzled, Jim made his way into the corral where the team was waiting hitched to a post. Soaring Eagle carried J.W. outside. “They had some kind of picnic at the school.”

  Jim nodded. “The parents told me about it. They wanted to surprise her. A welcome back.”

  Soaring Eagle put J.W. up on one of the horse’s backs.

  “What is it, Soaring Eagle. What’s eating at you?”

  “She’s doing well?”

  “I told you she was. Didn’t you talk to her?”

  Soaring Eagle shook his head and Jim ducked under one of the horse’s necks and checked the harness on the off side. He stood up abruptly. “Why not?”

  “I left a gift on her desk, but she didn’t see me.” Soaring Eagle put his own hands over J.W.’s little fists and opened his hands, encouraging him to hang on to the horse’s mane. Jim pretended to adjust a harness that needed no adjusting and Soaring Eagle continued, “Everything that has happened to me happe
ned for a reason. I can accept it. I can endure it. I read the Bible verses and I know they are true. All His ways are justice. Righteous and upright is He. He wounds and He heals. It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I may learn thy statutes. ” Soaring Eagle looked up at Jim with a pained expression. “I accept His chastening of me, His direction for me. I humbled myself and have tried to learn from the Cheyenne River, to grow, and to be better equipped for the future. But I cannot—” he hesitated briefly, but then allowed the words to flow. “I cannot bear to think of my little Red Bird—” the words came out choked with emotion. Soaring Eagle brusquely pulled J.W. down from the back of the horse and turned away. “I cannot bear to think of her suffering, and—” he looked at Jim with eyes that shone with tears. “I do not know if I can bear to see her now. I have come all this way to make certain that her soul is well, that her heart is right. And I find that my own soul and my own heart are aching.”

  “You need to see Carrie right away, friend,” Jim urged, “because when you talk to Carrie, you’ll know that you don’t have to wonder why God allowed her to get caught in that blizzard. The answer is written all over her face, Soaring Eagle. LisBeth used to worry about the way Carrie used to pout and scheme to get her way. Now, she’s happy and content, she’s closer to the Lord than ever.” Jim shook his head, searching for words. “She’s just quite a little woman, Soaring Eagle.” He tossed Soaring Eagle the reins. “See for yourself.” Taking J.W. from Soaring Eagle’s arms, Jim walked away.

  Reluctantly, Soaring Eagle climbed into the wagon box and headed for the schoolhouse.

  Chapter 31

  A gracious woman retaineth honor.

  Proverbs 11:16

  S he saw who was driving the wagon and wanted to flee. She had shoved the little bundle that held Ida Mae under her arm, pressing it against her side to free her hands for the canes. She could feel it slipping, but she didn’t want to drop a cane and let him see.

  As the wagon trundled up to the front of the schoolhouse, he held up one hand in a halfhearted greeting. He climbed down slowly from the wagon. Reaching into the back of the wagon, he hefted a huge log to the side where Carrie would have to climb up. He put it down on the ground and looked up at her. “Jim said that you don’t like having to be lifted into the wagon. I can’t drive as well as he, to bring the wagon up so close for you. But this way—”