Soaring Eagle

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  “Mother!” Charity had been less patient with her mother’s gossip of late. She chided, “I’ve got to get this garden hoed and the carrots in before it rains again. If you want to know who David Braddock is, why don’t you call on Mrs. Hathaway and ask her?”

  “Charity!” Agnes insisted. “I could never do that! It wouldn’t be polite!”

  Charity adjusted her bonnet and bent to her work. “Then think of a polite way to learn what you want to know. Heaven knows you won’t be able to do a thing until you do.” Meaning to joke, she added, “Invite them to church. That’s innocent enough.”

  Agnes crowed with delight, “Perfect, Charity! Perfect. I’ll invite them to church.” Agnes was already folding up the newspaper and heading for the house to do her Christian duty. Charity realized with a faint tinge of bitterness that she would, once again, be left to do the morning chores while her mother flitted off to learn some new bit of gossip. Sighing, Charity said a quick prayer for patience, which she punctuated with wicked attacks on imaginary weeds.

  Abigail Braddock was relishing her morning coffee when, over David’s shoulder, she saw that LisBeth had been cornered by a large woman wearing an outmoded hat decorated with ridiculously long ostrich feathers. With every nod of her head, the feathers whirled and shook. Abigail’s eyes lit up in amusement as she watched the woman. The amusement faded when she noticed that LisBeth’s face was flushed and she was vociferously shaking her head from side to side and trying to guide the woman out of the dining room as discreetly as possible. But the woman was not to be guided. Forcefully removing her elbow from LisBeth’s guiding hand, she turned her head toward the Braddocks’ table and said, just loudly enough to be heard, “But of course they must be properly welcomed to Lincoln, LisBeth. I simply want to invite them to our social Saturday evening. Certainly that can’t do any harm.”

  Agnes stepped briskly toward the table and a very uncomfortable LisBeth followed her. Agnes’s ample bustle swished through the dining room and brushed the open newspaper that David had been scanning. He looked up in surprise, and then hopped up to greet LisBeth with a warm smile.

  Agnes held out her hand and LisBeth capitulated. “Mr. Braddock, Mrs. Braddock, this is Mrs. Agnes Bond. Few who come to Lincoln escape Mrs. Bond’s notice, and those who meet her, never forget her.” Turning to Agnes, LisBeth said, “Mrs. Bond, may I introduce Mr. David Braddock and his mother, Mrs. Abigail Braddock, of Philadelphia.”

  “Mr. Braddock, Mrs. Braddock,” the ostrich plumes bobbed up and down energetically, “welcome to Lincoln!” David stood up and bowed.

  Abigail set down her coffee cup and Abigail replied remotely, “Thank you, Mrs. Bond. We’ve had a fine welcome from Augusta and LisBeth.”

  Ah, they’re on a first name basis. “LisBeth has told us so much about her trip to Philadelphia.”

  “Really.” Abigail turned to David. “David, dear, please don’t let us keep you from your business. I know you had that appointment with Mr. Gere to see the newspaper office. Really, dear, do go on.”

  David bowed and left the dining room without a word.

  Agnes noted, He didn’t say a word to LisBeth. “Young people!” she exclaimed. “They always have important business to rush off to.”

  Abigail changed the subject. “Thank you for taking the trouble to come meet us, Mrs. Bond. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” She stood up.

  “I came to invite you and your son to our church social this Saturday night. It’s a small church, surely nothing like what you’re used to in Philadelphia.” Do they go to church? Agnes watched Abigail for a clue, but the older woman’s eyes were somber and she gave no response other than to say graciously, “Thank you, Mrs. Bond. I’ll be sure to let David know of your kind invitation. Of course, we just arrived in town yesterday, and since it’s so early on our first day here, we haven’t had time to discuss our schedule. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Abigail sailed gracefully past Agnes and swept up the stairs to her second floor room.

  Agnes turned to watch her go, bobbing her head uncertainly and turning her attentions to LisBeth. “What a lovely woman,” she said sweetly. “Certainly upper-class Philadelphia. You can tell that right off.”

  LisBeth began to clear the table, noisily rattling the dishes as she said through clenched teeth, “The Hathaway House prides itself on giving its guests good meals in privacy, Agnes.” Hoisting a tray full of dishes, LisBeth headed for the kitchen. As Agnes turned to go, she noticed that David Braddock had left the newspaper he had been reading rolled up on his chair. She bent to retrieve it and carried it home, where she was delighted to learn that the Braddocks of Philadelphia had indeed come to Lincoln looking for land, for both A. J. Cropsey’s and J. P. Lantz’s advertisements had been circled.

  “I’m sorry, David,” LisBeth said as she spread the last dining table with a clean linen cloth, “but I can’t tomorrow. We do laundry in the morning, and in the afternoon I have my sewing circle.”

  “The next day, then?” David reached for a stack of napkins and began to help LisBeth set the table.

  “Stop that!” she exclaimed, taking the napkins from him. “Augusta would never forgive me for letting a guest set his own table!”

  David looked at LisBeth seriously. “I suspect that Augusta and Mother are deep in some serious discussion and we won’t hear from either of them again this evening. And,” he added with emphasis, “I have a feeling that Augusta would understand my wanting to be here—and my not wanting to sit lazily by while you work.”

  LisBeth laid the last of the napkins at the table and began with flatware. David tried again. “Well, then, what about Wednesday?”

  “No, that won’t do, either. Wednesday morning we iron the linens, and then the Ladies’ Missionary Society is meeting.”

  “Thursday?”

  “I have to prepare to teach Sunday school.”

  David placed both hands on the table before him and said slowly, “Mrs. Baird, Mother and I have been in Lincoln for nearly two weeks now, and aside from being served by you in this dining room, I have not succeeded in spending a moment with you. I have the distinct impression that you are trying to avoid me.”

  LisBeth flushed. “I am not! I’m just busy, that’s all.”

  “You weren’t too busy to go driving with Jim Callaway on Monday.”

  Her back was turned to him, but David saw her shoulders slump slightly before she answered him. “Jim drove me out to my mother’s grave. It was hardly a social afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry, LisBeth. I didn’t know.”

  “I thought you came to Lincoln to invest in property.”

  “I—we did. But,” it was David’s turn to be ill at ease, “forgive me for being so forward, but there are many western cities where investing would be even more promising than Lincoln, Nebraska. However, there is only one western city where a certain lovely widow resides.”

  Carefully, LisBeth finished setting the table before she turned to look at David. Her eyes were large and solemn. “David, you are a very kind and attractive man. I have grown to love your mother—sincerely, I have. But,” LisBeth’s chin trembled, and she pressed her lips together firmly and cleared her throat before continuing, “this time last year, I was a newlywed.” She had to stop again. One hand came up to her throat. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry.” David reached out to take her hand, but she shook her head and moved away from him. Stomping her foot she regained control. “It’s odd, but sometimes I get so angry about it all I could scream. It isn’t fair. I loved MacKenzie so much. I get angry at General Custer for leading him to his death and angry at the Sioux who killed him, and then I get angry at myself for hating them when they were only trying to defend what used to be theirs. In the end, I end up angry with God, because he could have prevented the whole mess, and he didn’t. And when I’m angry at God, I can’t exactly pray, which is what my mother would have told me to do.”

  She smiled ruefully as she wiped errant tears. “
And then I get really crazy because I get angry at my mother because she isn’t here to help me.”

  David hastened to draw the subject away from MacKenzie. “Augusta and Sarah Biddle have nothing but kind words for your mother. She must have been an amazing woman.”

  LisBeth looked at the ceiling and blinked her eyes before she sighed and said wearily, “No, there was nothing particularly unique about Mother. You would have walked right by her on the street and never noticed her. She cleaned and cooked and then got up to do it all over again. Other than her quilts and a nice obituary in the paper, there’s nothing left to even mark that she lived.”

  “I’d have to disagree with that, LisBeth. There’s you.”

  “Yes, there’s me.” And there’s a Lakota brave somewhere—if he hasn’t been killed yet, LisBeth thought, but she didn’t mention Soaring Eagle. “I guess it remains to be seen what will become of me.”

  “I’ll wait,” David said quietly.

  An evening breeze rustled the muslin curtains, and LisBeth shook off her dark mood and smiled. “Well, I’m keeping busy. Augusta says ‘Time heals all wounds.’ I hope she’s right.” She was serious again. “David, I enjoy your friendship. But I’m not sure I’m fit to be a very good friend right now.”

  David interrupted her. “Well, then, as one friend to another, may I take you for a carriage ride on—Saturday? I’ll ask Augusta and Mother too. Augusta has a superb knowledge of the area, and I’m interested in acquiring more land.”

  “More land?”

  David smiled. “Well, yes. I signed papers this morning at Cropsey’s land office for a few city blocks.”

  “A few city blocks?”

  “Just a few. Now I want to add some agricultural acres to the portfolio. Do you know any good farmers who need fast cash?”

  It was Saturday afternoon and LisBeth and David, Augusta, and Abigail were making their way south on 9th Street, around the old Market Square to J.P. Lantz’s Land Office, where David was to pick up information regarding some available farms.

  “ ‘Fifty miles from anywhere,’ ” Augusta snorted. “That’s what they used to say about us. ‘On the edge of the Great American Desert. No navigable river. Missed by all the early explorers. Bypassed by the great trails to the west. Nothing but sunflowers and salt.’ The salt is what brought the first ones here. Thought they’d make it a great industry. Can’t say as I blame them, but it didn’t work out. No matter. We stuck. We’ve got the railroad now, and we’re growing fast. One of these days I’m going to have a big dinner at Hathaway House and invite those uppity-ups that said we’d never make it. Serve them a free meal—with crow as the main course!”

  Augusta chuckled when LisBeth interrupted, “You’d better ask some questions soon, Mrs. Braddock, or you’ll have to hear Aunt Augusta’s entire monologue.”

  The wagon pulled up sharply at the door of 1110 O Street. A false front had given the building the appearance of a much more imposing two story office. Over the door, the address was painted on the transom. Gold lettering on the window announced the J. P. Lantz Land Office. David jumped from the carriage and went inside, reemerging in just a few minutes with several sheets of paper that he handed to Augusta.

  “May I impose upon you, Mrs. Hathaway, to look these over and tell me what you think? If there’s anything worthwhile, perhaps we could take our drive in the direction of the property.” As he spoke, David urged the horses east down O Street. Coming to 17th, he made a sharp right turn and passed the state Capitol building on the right and the mansion belonging to former Secretary of State Thomas Kennard. He pulled the horses up abruptly at the west side of the Kennard mansion and gestured lazily to the south. “That’s one of the blocks we’ve purchased, Mother.”

  Augusta interjected, “Close to the Capitol, David. Good thinking. You’ll make a good return on your investment here in no time. In fact, I know of someone who might be interested in it in just a few months.”

  “Oh, I’ll not be selling this property, Mrs. Hathaway. I’m going to improve it first.”

  Abigail took her cue and spoke up, “Well, Augusta, I’ve wanted a pet project for some time, now, and David and I have decided we might like a little vacation home in the ‘wild west.’ We’re thinking of building on the property—if you think you could put up with having us about now and then.”

  Augusta crowed, “Put up with you? I’m delighted! Lincoln will be honored to have such fine people added to our city directory, won’t we, LisBeth?”

  Seated next to David, LisBeth nodded and turned to look back at Abigail. “Mrs. Braddock, it will be wonderful to have you nearby.”

  David’s face flushed with pleasure as Abigail explained happily, “We’ll be leaving by the end of next week to go home to find an architect, and furniture, and a gardener.”

  David added, “And a housekeeper.”

  “No, David, I’ve found the proper housekeeper. That is, if I can convince her to come. But first, I have to make certain I won’t be losing a good friend if I hire her away. Augusta,” Abigail turned to face her friend. “Would you be terribly offended if I asked Sarah Biddle to be our housekeeper?” Abigail rushed to explain. “I know she’s devoted to you. I wouldn’t dream of asking her if you feel at all negative about it. I don’t know what your plans are for her future. But if she’d come to stay with us, I’d see that she had every advantage. As for Tom, I agree with you that that boy has great potential. I’d like to see him continue in his schooling and maybe go to the university some day. I could help with that, but only if I won’t be overstepping my bounds. If you have any hesitation at all, please say so, and I’ll look for a housekeeper elsewhere.”

  Augusta remained quiet for a very long time, surveying the site of what she knew would be a fine mansion. Finally, she spoke quietly. “I hate to admit it, Abigail, but I can’t offer Sarah much more than a steady job. I’m not poor, but I’m not wealthy, either, and I promised Jesse King years ago that whatever I have in this world would someday belong to LisBeth.”

  Embarrassed, LisBeth interrupted, “Aunt Augusta, please!”

  “Now, don’t ‘Aunt Augusta’ me, LisBeth. I won’t have a lot. But I do have the hotel. You’ve worked so hard all these years; I’m glad I’ve been able to hire more help in the past few months. It’s meant less labor for you. But in some ways it’s meant harder work for Sarah. She oversees so much for me these days. Bless her, she hasn’t complained a bit. But I know it’s hard for her. A young girl like that ought to have dreams—and a way to see them come true. Being a housekeeper for a rich lady is quite a step up from working in the kitchen at the Hathaway House Hotel. What’s fair is fair, and I wouldn’t think of standing in Sarah’s way. And, Abigail,” Augusta reached over to pat Abigail’s hand, “God bless you for understanding that where Sarah goes, there goes Tom. It’ll break my heart to lose them, but my heart will mend. You ask Sarah. I’ll see that she gets past any silly loyalty to me. She’ll say yes. And she’ll be the best housekeeper you ever had.”

  Augusta blinked rapidly and rustled the papers in her hand, scanning them quickly and barking out, rather too loudly, “Here, David! Here! This one’s just south of town a few miles and right next to MacKenzie—I mean, LisBeth’s place.”

  LisBeth interrupted. “It’s Jim Callaway’s place now, Aunt Augusta. We signed all the papers two days ago. He’s paying me ten dollars an acre over ten years.”

  David frowned. “Pretty generous terms, LisBeth. A lot can happen in ten years.”

  “I didn’t sell the place to get the money. I sold the place because MacKenzie wouldn’t like it rotting away and Jim Callaway seems to have a sincere love for the land out there.” LisBeth turned to look back at Abigail and Augusta. “He’s even planted a rose arbor by the house. Said his mother always had roses. Mac’s ma and pa are buried there, and he cleaned up their graves and planted roses there too.”

  Abigail understood. Gently, she said, “It sounds like MacKenzie would be proud of the place, LisBeth
. I’m sure he’d approve of your selling to Jim Callaway.”

  David was quiet, and Augusta continued with the history of the area. “When I settled in Lancaster, there were just a few scattered homesteads out this way. Five years ago, the Keys and the Meyers got together and laid the town out, but it wasn’t organized until just last year. Now this place you’re looking at, it’s far enough from Salt Creek that it shouldn’t give you any trouble. It gives some folks fits flooding. There’s talk of building a school. There’s a Methodist Church. Plenty of potential for grain and livestock. A farm down that way would be a good buy.”

  As they drove farther from Lincoln and closer to Roca, the wind began to blow hotter. Abigail and Augusta put up their parasols, but LisBeth tilted her head back and breathed in the warm air, reveling in the sunshine. The older women turned their talk to plans for Sarah and Tom, and Abigail began to describe her vision for the new house to Augusta.

  David clucked occasionally to the team, but otherwise seemed lost in his own thoughts. LisBeth listened to the meadowlarks and noted the greening of the fields with pleasure. Finally, Augusta, called out, “Here, David, turn west here. The old Ellis place should be just over this hill—if the land office has the directions right.”

  They drove up a winding path and into the farmyard. LisBeth hopped down while David helped his mother and Augusta out of the carriage. One massive cottonwood towering over the tiny abandoned stone house afforded the only shade in sight.

  “Doesn’t look very promising, does it?” David muttered to LisBeth. But LisBeth was enthusiastic.

  “I think it’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Let’s go inside.”

  “You go ahead, children,” Abigail called out. “We’ll get the sandwiches and spread a blanket here under this tree. I’m famished!” At sight of the premier hostess of Philadelphia preparing a picnic on the Nebraska prairie, David Braddock chuckled.