by Vivi Holt
Maria nodded. “Yes, thank you. That would be wonderful. I’m sorry I’m not very talkative. I just … can’t believe this is happening. Is it really happening? Am I really here? I’ve dreamed about it so much, I can’t be sure …”
Camilla took Maria’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “You feel that, don’t you?”
Maria smiled. “Yes.”
“Then it’s real.” Camilla grinned. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I can’t pretend to understand anythin’ about it. But know that you’re welcome here and that we never gave up on you, never stopped lookin’ for you.”
Maria could see tears glistening in the corners of Camilla’s eyes and her heart swelled. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome. We prayed for you so many times, Charlotte and I, hopin’ God would lead Cliff to you and he’d bring you back one day. I’m just sorry we didn’t find you sooner – so sorry.” Her voice thickened and she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled from her skirt pocket.
“It’s fine,” said Maria. “They didn’t treat me too badly. Thank you for never giving up on me and for your prayers. There were times I thought God had forgotten me. I’d lost all hope of being rescued.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose I have a home any longer with Fred gone, but maybe I’ll raise some money and head back to England, to Mother and Father …”
Camilla nodded and patted Maria’s shoulder lovingly. “That sounds fine.”
Maria followed Camilla down a short hallway to the guest bedroom. A small bed with a floral print spread filled the center of the room. Besides the bed, the room contained a bedside table, a set of drawers, a dresser, rocking chair and a looking glass. “This is perfect,” said Maria. “I think I’ll go straight to bed. I’m sorry I didn’t finish the bread you made, but I’m tired.”
“Of course, that’s no problem – you just go on to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. There’s a wash basin and towel on the dresser, and I placed a few items of clothing in the drawers for you. Just let me know if you need anything else.” Camilla rushed forward and threw her arms around Maria, then stepped back with flushed cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Maria nodded, the lump that had grown in her throat rising. She couldn’t speak or she knew she’d burst into tears.
Camilla backed out of the room and closed the thick timber slab door behind her. Maria slumped onto the bed and covered her face with her hands, rubbing her eyes. She investigated the contents of the drawers, found a nightdress and, after washing up, changed into it and climbed into bed with a groan. It felt so good to lie on a straw tick mattress and feather pillow. She closed her eyes. Thank you, God, for hearing my prayers and bringing me back to civilization. And please, please keep Boda and the children safe …
Tears began falling unimpeded down her freshly scrubbed cheeks. She didn’t know what had become of Bodaway, whether he’d made it through the confrontation with Anunkasan. What if he’d been hurt, or killed? If he’d won the scuffle, and was alive, he’d think she’d abandoned them all. And hadn’t she? She’d just ridden away from the camp without looking back, without a second thought.
And Impeme must be wondering where she was. Lonan and Chepi would think something bad had happened to her – they’d be upset, worried about her. She should have spoken to them before she left, told them she was fine, but of course she couldn’t – the warriors in the village would’ve never let the sheriff take her away.
Maria cried until she fell to sleep. And she dreamed of riding over an open prairie, the wind in her hair, the sun on her face and Bodaway by her side on a pinto pony.
***
The smell of chicory coffee roused Maria from a heavy sleep. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, needing a few minutes to remember where she was. Her gaze took in the small room, the needlepoint bedspread covered in an intricate floral design, the wash bowl and stand, and the clean dress draped over the arm of a rocking chair. She was in Cutter’s Creek. She’d left Bodaway and the children behind.
She groaned. If only she could have seen them one last time before she left …
She rolled over and hid her face in the soft pillow. What would she do now with her life? She had nowhere to live, not a cent to her name, no family or friends anywhere nearby. She sighed and turned onto her back again. It seemed hopeless. She felt dizzy and her stomach was uneasy.
Suddenly she leaped to her feet and ran to the dresser, heaving over the wash bowl. Her hair fell across her face and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her stomach clenching.
There was a quiet knock at the door and Camilla poked her head in. “Good mornin’, sleepyhead,” she said with a smile. “Seems like you had a good long rest.”
“Yes, I did, thank you.” She pushed her hair behind her ears and straightened the nightgown Camilla had lent her to wear.
“Well, I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee brewin’ and eggs ready to fry as soon as you like – just let me know.” She smiled again and pulled the door closed.
Maria sighed and shut her eyes tight for a moment, waiting for the nausea to pass, then searched through the drawers for something suitable to wear. She couldn’t imagine wearing corsets or anything so restrictive again. She settled on lovely house dress and petticoats along with matching stockings, and dressed quickly, slipping her stockinged feet into her moccasins with a wry grin.
She tiptoed out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen, still in a daze. When she smelled salt pork and eggs and heard the sizzle in the pan, the nausea returned, breaking over her in waves that drew a line of sweat across her brow.
“There you are,” said Camilla. “Take a seat. I’ll have breakfast for you right away.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, sitting quietly at the kitchen table.
“Just so you know, Charlotte and Harry are coming over after breakfast. They’re married now with two children. Can you believe it?” Camilla pushed the salt pork around the frying pan, wiping her free hand on the floral-print apron tied around her waist.
“Charlotte and Harry?” asked Maria, her eyebrows pulled low. “Married now?”
“Yes, very happily.”
“Oh.” Maria’s head swam.
Camilla set a cup of coffee in front of her. The steam rose to her nostrils, and she lifted the cup to take a sip. It warmed her immediately and momentarily soothed her nausea. She ate a few bites of salt pork, an egg and some fried bread, and before long felt more like herself.
She needed all the energy she could muster when Charlotte and Harry arrived with their children. Johnny toddled into the house, his voice raised in a squeal as he careened around the corner, almost running into Maria in his haste to get to the backyard to feed Camilla’s prize chickens. Camilla followed him, laughing at his excitement.
“Maria!” cried Charlotte, grasping Maria’s hand with her own gloved one and squeezing it. She held a baby in the other arm, sleeping soundly. “I can’t believe it’s you. After all this time, I really had lost hope of seeing you again.”
Maria nodded and forced a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Charlotte.”
Harry entered, with Clifford close behind him. “Mrs. Holloway, I’m so glad Cliff here found you when he did. ‘Course it took ‘im long enough, dinnit?” He laughed and slapped the sheriff heartily on the back.
“He did a fine job,” said Maria. “I’m grateful.”
Clifford’s cheeks reddened. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not tracking you down sooner.”
“Nothing to forgive. It wasn’t you who abducted me.” The sheriff sat at the table and Camilla placed a cup of hot coffee in front of him, after first serving Harry and Charlotte.
“Are you in good health?” asked Charlotte, blowing the steam from her coffee.
“I think so,” replied Maria. “I was sick this morning, but I’ve been sick a few mornings in a row, even before the sheriff rescued me, so perhaps I’ve got some kind of influenza.”
Charlot
te and Camilla exchanged a glance, eyebrows arched in alarm. Maria watched their interaction and sudden realization dawned, making her pulse quicken. Could she be pregnant? Of course, it was possible, but she’d thought perhaps she wasn’t capable since she hadn’t so far. Her eyes widened – if she was, then she’d not only be completely alone in the world, but she’d have a child to raise as well. A child who would never know his or her father, never know how wonderful Bodaway was and how much love he had to give.
As the group began discussing the town’s upcoming fall festival, Maria’s heart plummeted. What would she do? Where could she turn for help? All she really wanted right then was to tell Bodaway the news and watch his face light up with joy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
March 1872
The rest of the winter passed without much ado as Maria’s waist expanded - ever so slightly, so that only she could tell. She’d let out the waist line of the dresses Camilla had lent her, grateful that the high skirts hid the small bump for now.
She continued to be plagued by nausea, while ravenously hungry at the same time. Something she’d never before considered possible. The confusion and fog that had plagued her mind during her first days there gradually faded, and she began to see things more clearly.
She finally realized that her ordeal was over — she’d been rescued, the way she’d always hoped she would be. And that realization gave her a renewed sense of peace, and perhaps even a little flutter of joy now and again. That was until she remembered the loved ones she’d left behind, and those memories made her feel as though a piece of her heart had been torn free and thrown, scattered into the wind that whistled through the valley and sent the small, cozy house into fits of creaking and groaning as she lay in her bed and listened to its wail.
She’d hardly been out of the house since arriving in Cutter’s Creek. People around town were courteous and polite, but she knew they avoided her as best they could. She was an oddity, a subject of gossip and speculation. They didn’t know what to make of a woman who’d been captured by natives and held against her will, only to show up again years later. She didn’t blame them. If it had happened to someone else, she’d have been just as curious – and horrified – as they were.
She was grateful for Camilla and Clifford, who treated her as one of the family. From what she understood, they were only newly married, yet they welcomed her into their home and made her feel loved. She immediately felt at ease with them, and soon found a warm friendship forming between her and Camilla.
Charlotte and Harry had been wonderful as well, inviting her to tea and supper as often as she’d consent to come, and visiting her at the Brentwoods’ when they could. It was more difficult for them when the heavier snow fell, since they lived out of town. But when the weather was fine, Charlotte made Harry drag the sleigh out to carry the whole family into town to buy supplies and call on her and Camilla. She soon grew to love the mischievous little Johnny, and the darling baby Anna, who seemed almost an extension of Charlotte’s arm, so often was she to be found cradled there.
Maria sat at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes for the stew she and Camilla were preparing to simmer on the stove all day for supper. She lay the potato down, and reached for a carrot. It looked so juicy and inviting, and it had been so long since she’d eaten one, she couldn’t resist. She took a big bite, crunching happily as the juices filled her mouth.
“What are we doing today?”
“The whole town is goin’ sleigh riding. We do it every year, enjoyin’ the last of the snow before the spring thaw. I thought I’d mentioned that Cliff and I are going. And you’re welcome to come if you like, though you shouldn’t feel as though you must.” Camilla sliced an onion and threw the pieces into the large black pot on top of the stove.
“Oh, I remember now. We’re having a potluck lunch at the red chapel afterward.” Maria smiled and reached for another carrot - this time peeling and slicing it on the cutting board.
“But perhaps you shouldn’t come.” Camilla frowned and sniffed, her eyes red from the onions. “Is it sensible for you to go gallivantin’ all over the place? I worry about you, and it’s so cold out.” She picked up a peeled potato and began to slice.
Maria huffed. “Oh phooey, I’m fine. It’ll be fun. Besides, I’ve survived worse.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” said Camilla, wrinkling her nose.
Maria burst into laughter.
Camilla’s eyes twinkled. “It’s really not funny,” she said, but her mouth was twitching. That just made Maria laugh all the harder. In a moment Camilla joined her, laughing until their sides ached.
Finally Maria composed herself, drew a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know why that made me act so, but it did somehow.”
“I think sometimes we just need to laugh, to get rid of somethin’ pent up.” Camilla wiped her eyes dry with the apron around her waist. “And it feels better than cryin’.” The women finished fixing the stew and tidied up before dressing to go out.
Clifford brought the sleigh around front, with Tilly and the bay horse harnessed neatly together. Tilly shook her head and pranced sideways. Clifford held her still with his hand on her bridle. “Whoa there, girl. You’ve got to cooperate today.” He helped Camilla and Maria into the sleigh, and they piled furs and blankets on themselves, tucking the covers around beneath their legs.
Maria exhaled in white puffs as she snuggled deep into the seat. It felt so good to be outside. She’d stayed indoors so much since she’d arrived, she felt positively cooped up and had been longing for some kind of outing. Anything to take her mind off the Lakota village – what Bodaway might be doing, whether he was all right, where the children were, if the People were safe. Those thoughts had been running around and around in her head throughout the previous weeks, sending her deeper into misery. She patted her stomach over the layers of blankets.
Earmuffs quieted the noise of the sleigh as they slid over the crunching snow. The horses plodded slowly at first, but when they reached the road where the surface was packed down by other travelers, they sped up, tossing their heads and high-stepping through town.
Maria smiled and closed her eyes, breathing deeply in the fresh, crisp air. When she opened her eyes again, they were flying down the main street, past the mercantile and various other shops and residences. An elderly couple emerged from one cozy cottage and waved, and Clifford brought the sleigh to a halt in front of their dwelling. “Hello there, Sam, Estelle. How are you this fine day?”
Estelle grinned and her eyes twinkled. “We’re well, my dear. And you?”
“Wonderful, thank you. Have you met Maria Holloway yet?”
“No, we haven’t, but we heard she was here.” Estelle shuffled over and extended her hand. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Holloway.”
Maria shook it gently with a shy smile. “And you, Mrs. …”
“Mrs. Todd, but call me Estelle – everyone does.”
Sam shook Maria’s hand next. “Are you both coming sleigh riding?” she asked them.
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am, we sure are. We wouldn’t miss it for the world – Estelle here’s been looking forward to it for weeks. I’m just about to bring our sleigh around front.” He grinned at his wife and she tipped her head to one side, her eyes gleaming.
Maria smiled. Something about the couple warmed her heart.
“Well then, we’ll see you over there,” Camilla replied, and the sleigh set off again, bound for the chapel.
Maria held onto her hat and laughed as they bounced over tracks in the snow, then the horses found the smoother surface in the middle of the road once more. Sunlight glinted off the white landscape, and the bells on the leather traces rang out clearly through the frigid air, their sound echoed by dozens of other sleighs heading for the chapel.
She felt her gloom lift and her pulse quicken. How cheering it was to race across the snow, warmed by layers of wool and fur and in the company of friends.
They soon pulled
up in front of the little red chapel. Even though she’d already seen it, the sight still surprised her. She’d never witnessed a church painted in that distinctive color before — its walls stood in stark contrast to the blanket of snow surrounding it. Several other sleighs were parked there and folks bustled back and forth, carrying food into the building. Men bundled up in coats and scarves, women wearing fur hats and cloaks; empty hands pushed into mufflers, and gloved hands carrying pots of steaming food wrapped tightly in various fabrics to stave off the cold.
Camilla and Maria climbed to the ground and reached for their own dishes that were carefully packed against the footboard and wrapped tightly with cloth. They carried them inside and set them on long trestle tables. The tables had been decorated gaily with sprigs of juniper and hemlock and covered in dishes and bowls of all shapes and sizes. The delicious aromas made Maria’s stomach grumble in anticipation of the feast to come.
“Maria, Cammie – over here!” Charlotte cradled baby Anna in her arms. Little Johnny had his hands wrapped possessively around one leg, making it impossible for her to move. “I’m so glad you’re here. Cammie, do you think you could possibly help with Johnny?” She tried to pry him free of her leg, but he just held on tighter.
“Come on, darlin’,” said Camilla, lifting him expertly into her arms. “Let’s go and have a look at the horses, shall we?” She hurried him outside, leaving Maria with Charlotte.
“How are you feeling?” asked Charlotte, concerned.
“Not too bad, really. I mean, it’s strange to be here. I wanted it so desperately for so long, then lost all hope of it ever happening. And now that it’s happened, I find myself a bit lost. I’m really not sure what to do, to be honest.” She shot Charlotte a lopsided grin.
“You poor dear. I’m sure you’ll feel a bit out of sorts for a while. But as long as you can talk about it, you’ll come through all right in the end. When I first came to this country, everything went wrong for me. The picture I’d had in my mind of how it would be turned out to be completely wrong. In the end, I had to accept my new life the way it was, or learn to live in misery. So I chose to accept it and I’m so glad I did. I wouldn’t change any part of it.” She patted Maria’s arm, then slipped the tip of her finger into the baby’s open mouth to let her suck on it.