Soaring Eagle

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  The Braddock mansion was a massive, three-story conglomeration of porches, gingerbread, and gables. Above the porch trim, across the fascia of the house and along the roof line trailed a carved border of leaves and flowers. The porch wrapped around the north side of the house to a double wide portico where guests could be let out of their carriages protected from the weather. Stained and bevelled glass windows adorned the top portion of every window on the main floor. A stained-glass “B” was set into a small round window in the peak of the roof. The entire block the house stood on was surrounded by an ornate wrought-iron fence punctuated every few feet by brick pillars topped with coach lights.

  Her hands shaking, Sarah reached into her reticule and withdrew a huge key. “Here’s the key to the gate,” she croaked. Jim hopped down, unlocked the gate, and swung it wide, then drove the team up the bricked path.

  Sarah climbed down from the wagon and adjusted her pale gray suit. She stepped to the corner of the house to look about the grounds. Impeccable design was reflected in every aspect, from a small gazebo tucked under what would be a grape arbor, to the curving flower beds that stretched along the fence. Seedling trees had already been planted inside the fence. Behind the carriage house, a wide plot of earth had been left unplanted.

  “That’s my kitchen garden,” Sarah explained.

  Jim grinned. “Your kitchen garden, eh? Guess you already feel right at home, Miss Biddle.”

  Sarah blushed and turned to look at the back of the house. “Oh, no. I could never feel at home in such a grand place. All I want for my home is a little place in the country.”

  “Well, guess we’d better get this stuff inside.” Jim led the team a few steps forward to give him better access to the kitchen entrance.

  Sarah fumbled with the ring of keys the builder had dropped off that morning. “It’ll take a minute.” She was heading up the back steps when Jim said, “Why don’t you go in the main door? Come around back and let me in.” When Sarah looked doubtful, Jim urged her, “Go on in the main door, Sarah. I don’t know much about females, but I do know you like fancy stuff. You can’t tell me you won’t enjoy pretending it all belongs to you, just once.”

  Sarah looked back at the massive oak door wistfully. “Go ahead,” Jim urged. “Mrs. Braddock trusted you to set the place up for her. You aren’t doing anything wrong.”

  “Will you go in with me?” came the question.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Jim answered, “Sure, why not?”

  At last, Sarah located the key to the huge door. Jim swung it open and they stepped inside. A short hall stretched before them. Etched glass panels in the double doors to their left revealed the library. To the right an arched doorway led into the front parlor. The walls were papered in deep red silk, and heavy velvet draperies hung at the windows. A Persian carpet in the middle of the room awaited the arrival of furniture to fill the empty space around it.

  “The furniture will be coming soon. I’m to set up the kitchen now. Next comes Tom’s room and mine, and then I’m to move in.” Sarah’s voice trailed off as the two walked through the parlor into the vast front entrance hall. A wide staircase led up and around, out of sight. A cozy window seat had been built on the landing where leaded bay windows jutted out to overlook what would be the rose garden.

  Sarah and Jim headed down the hall toward the back of the house. To the right was the formal dining room. Behind it, a small breakfast room overlooked the side yard and opened onto the back porch.

  When the two at last came to the kitchen, Sarah was overwhelmed. At the sight of the massive cookstove, the huge island for food preparation, the spotless white tile floor, she managed an, “Oh, my,” and sat down abruptly.

  Jim stared around the room with appreciation. “Well, Sarah, it looks like you’ve taken quite a step up in the world. Even a farmer can appreciate that this is one nice kitchen.”

  Sarah looked about her stupidly. “What will I ever do with all this space? I declare, if we had this kitchen over at the Hathaway House—”

  Jim headed for the back door and turned briefly to say, “LisBeth’ll be taking notes when she sees this and making a few suggestions to Mrs. Hathaway regarding needed improvements at Hathaway House”

  “They’ve already had one of those meetings.”

  Jim raised one eyebrow. “Really?”

  “When they got back from the Centennial, Augusta was really excited about what they’d seen. She’s been sketching and drawing and talking to builders for months. I think she’s given up on the idea of improving and decided to build a new hotel closer to the railway station. Mr. Braddock is going to invest in the project.”

  Jim frowned. “That Mr. Braddock sure gets around, doesn’t he?”

  Sarah ignored the tone in Jim’s voice. “Yes, he’s been real helpful. He helped Augusta with the plans and secured the option on the block he thought she should build on. I think he’s fond of LisBeth. It just seemed like anything she was interested in, he tried to—”

  “Guess I’d better get to unloading.” Jim bent to prop open the door and clomped noisily down the steps, grabbing a crate and hauling it in. Just as he’d unloaded the last crate, a carriage rattled up the drive.

  “Now who? I should have locked the gate,” Sarah mumbled as she hurried outside and peeked around the edge of the house. LisBeth and Augusta were descending from a carriage. Tom had already jumped down and was running about the yard, whooping and exclaiming, “Great granny, Aunt Augusta. Look at the yard! Look at that porch!” He stopped on the steps under the portico. “Oh, I wonder where my room is? This place is so big!” Running back to the carriage house he rambled on, “They’re going to have three teams of horses?”

  Sarah laughed. “Tom, settle down. You’ll have plenty of time to explore.” Turning to Augusta and LisBeth she added, “Well, you two certainly kept a secret. You didn’t tell me the Braddocks were building the biggest house in Lincoln!” She was suddenly serious. “I don’t know if I’m up to running a showplace like this.”

  “Now, Sarah,” Augusta demanded. “Don’t sell yourself short. You ran the hotel single-handed when LisBeth and I were gone. And you learned a lot from that Mrs. Titus in Philadelphia. Abigail did nothing but brag on you in her letters. You’ll do fine. You’ll see.”

  Sarah wasn’t quite so certain. “Who ever heard of a sixteen-year-old running a house like this?”

  Jim interjected, “ ‘Let no man despise thy youth,’ Sarah. That’s in the Bible. It doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen or sixty. You’ll do fine.”

  Sarah’s face glowed with pleasure at Jim’s compliment.

  LisBeth agreed. “You can’t tell a book by its cover.” Grinning mischievously she continued, “Why, just look at Jim Callaway, here. To look at him you’d think he’s an aged mountain man, what with that white beard and all.” She looked over at Jim, who began self-consciously pulling on his beard. “Who’d guess Jim’s just starting out farming? Abigail Braddock thinks very highly of you, Sarah. She was very impressed with you while you were in Philadelphia. Even David said so in his letters.”

  At the mention of David, Jim jumped down from the back of the wagon where he had settled to watch LisBeth. “I better get this team back to the livery. Got a string of mares to get out to the homestead before sundown—promised Joseph I’d tend them over winter and break their foals.” He clamped his hat back on his head and climbed up into the wagon box, walking the team slowly around the path that widened to circle a huge piece of statuary.

  With orders to Tom to “stay out of trouble,” Augusta and LisBeth hurried inside to tour the mansion and be properly amazed at the wealth displayed in its polished railings and floors, its Persian carpets, and lavish drapes. They went up-stairs and discovered Sarah’s room, just across the hall from Abigail Braddock’s.

  As the three women inspected the manse, Tom tripped up and down the stairs, calling about every new discovery. He declared his own small room on the third floor “grand” and slid down t
he main bannister several times while Augusta unpacked crates, LisBeth washed dishes and cooking pots, and Sarah covered shelves with paper before arranging the new kitchen wares.

  On his way back to the livery, Jim Callaway took a short detour by Tingley’s Drug Store. The extra errand gave him a late start to the homestead, so it was well after dark before he had turned Joseph’s string of mares into the corral and stabled his team. Still, he lit a lamp in the kitchen. Squinting into the foggy mirror that hung by the back door, he carefully shaved off his white beard.

  Chapter 24

  For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

  1 Samuel 16:7

  In column three of the August 12, 1877, Daily State Journal, a simple announcement appeared:

  Mr. David Braddock and Mrs. Abigail Braddock will return to our fair city to take up residence in their lovely new home within the week. Further reports will be printed following the reception to be hosted by the Braddocks this Friday evening.

  For Augusta Hathaway, LisBeth King Baird, Sarah Biddle, and young Tom Biddle, those simple lines represented a major life change. Augusta realized that the time had come and wondered aloud how she and LisBeth would get along without Sarah and Tom. LisBeth read the announcement and thought of how she would miss Sarah’s gentle ways. Sarah read it and left the kitchen abruptly, stifling tears. Tom stopped doing the sums assigned by Miss Griswall and wondered aloud if Mr. David would bring the new baseball and bat he had promised.

  Augusta and LisBeth had already hired a new cook so that they could help Sarah and Tom move into the manse. Every day, Sarah had directed the placement of furniture, unpacked shipments from Philadelphia, and swept and cleaned as if the Braddocks had already taken up residence. Many afternoons she was assisted by LisBeth or Augusta. Most evenings, Sarah and Tom had taken their suppers at Hathaway House and returned to the familiar kitchen, helping LisBeth do the dishes, helping train the new kitchen help, and then being driven home by Joseph when the sun set.

  Finally, the telegram came. The Braddocks were really coming. Sarah and Tom spent the last evening at the Hathaway House. When it was time to go, Augusta held Tom close and insisted on reading just one more story from a favorite book. As Augusta read, Sarah walked back to her former room.

  LisBeth followed her down the hallway. Leaning against the doorway, she folded her arms and said, “I’m going to miss you, Sarah. It’ll be odd not having you here to work with, and I’ll miss having someone else to kid Aunt Augusta when she gets onto some political topic from the paper.”

  Sarah smiled wistfully. “That night that Joseph found Tom and I—me—in the loft of the livery—if you would have told me then that I’d soon be going to work for a fine lady in a mansion, that I’d have my own room and a good income . . . .” Sarah’s chin began to quiver. She lowered her voice and whispered, “Sometimes I get scared thinking how good God has been to me.” Looking up at LisBeth she added, “I can’t figure why.”

  LisBeth shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t answer that one. I’ve been reading Mama’s Bible, trying to understand the way God works, and why he does the things he does. But I haven’t found any answers yet.”

  LisBeth sighed and looked around the room. “It’s hard to imagine this place being torn down and a new hotel. Aunt Augusta is even talking about building a house. The Centennial really got her going. And David encourages every plan she mentions. The two of them decided that if Aunt Augusta starts offering to take baggage to and from the depot free of charge, she’ll attract more business. He thinks she can charge three dollars a day if she makes just a few improvements. It’s nice of him to have taken such an interest in seeing her prosper.”

  Sarah smiled softly. “I think Mr. Braddock is interested in seeing Augusta and you prosper, LisBeth.”

  “Yes, he’s been very kind,” LisBeth said defensively.

  Sarah looked about the room again before coming to the door. “Guess I’d best get on over to the livery and ask Joseph for a ride to the manse.” Suddenly, Sarah put her hand on LisBeth’s arm and asked, “Pray for me tomorrow, will you, LisBeth? I’ve worked hard and I think I’ve got it all right, but I’m terribly nervous. Mrs. Braddock invited some pretty important people to her reception.”

  LisBeth patted Sarah’s hand. “You’ll do fine. You’re a wonderful cook and a good housekeeper, and Abigail is genuinely fond of you. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right,” LisBeth insisted.

  “Whew!” Augusta exclaimed, falling into her rocker and unbuttoning her shoes. “Abigail Braddock certainly knows how to put on a lovely evening. But I’m glad to be home!” Augusta chuckled. “I was so proud of Sarah Biddle I thought I’d burst. Didn’t she do a lovely job? Those dainty sandwiches—all the candy—she said she worked harder for that than she ever had at the hotel. But she was beaming with pride. And Tom sitting at the top of the stairs peeking through the banister. I think I counted thirty-five bonbons go into his mouth!”

  LisBeth poured tea and settled next to Augusta.

  “I’ve something to ask you about.” LisBeth sat down and studied the floor while Augusta waited. Taking a deep breath, LisBeth launched her topic. “The ladies’ society has finished our knitting. We have a scarf, hat, and mittens for each one of the twenty girls in Charity’s house at the mission. When I get that last set of buttons sewed on that old coat Agnes brought in Monday, the mending will be finished and we’ll have four trunks ready for the mission. I’ve been hearing from Charity regularly and I—well—I’d like to take the things up to the mission personally.”

  Augusta answered. “I should think David Braddock would be rather disappointed to have come all the way from Philadelphia and then to have you leave.”

  LisBeth fidgeted in her chair uncomfortably. “Does that mean you don’t want me to go? I’ll understand if you don’t think you can do without me.”

  “That’s not it at all, LisBeth. The two girls who answered the ad yesterday while you were at the Sunday school meeting can both start immediately. There’s no reason you need to feel tied to the hotel. It’s just that—”

  “I can’t stay here, Augusta. David . . .” LisBeth fidgeted again. After a long silence between the two women, she whispered, “I still love Mac. I can’t stay here when David won’t listen—”

  Augusta’s eyes flamed with anger. “What has he—?”

  LisBeth hurried to answer. “He’s been a perfect gentleman. It’s just that he’s always there, waiting. I don’t want him waiting. I don’t want anyone waiting. Why can’t he be like Jim Callaway? I’m sure he’s smitten with Sarah, but he’s willing to wait and let her get a chance to try things out on her own for a while. He hasn’t even been back to town since he helped her unpack that day.”

  Finally, Augusta said, “I don’t approve of your running off, LisBeth. I’ve always been a person to stay and face things.”

  “I wouldn’t be running away—exactly. I’m genuinely interested in the work at the mission. Charity Bond sounds so happy, so fulfilled, in her letters. She’s changed so much. I’d like . . .” LisBeth stopped awkwardly again. “I’d like to know what it is that makes her so content.”

  LisBeth looked up earnestly at Augusta. “I haven’t said much about it, but I think a lot about things—about Mama and Papa and the way things are going for the Sioux.” I wonder about Soaring Eagle and Prairie Flower—where they are, if they’re safe, if they’re on a reservation somewhere. I know I can’t do anything to help them, but somehow it feels good to be helping the Dakota children up at Santee. I’d like to go and see it for myself. I’d like to see if I can make any sense of everything that’s happened.

  “Mama kept it a secret about me being Lakota. I know she did it because she thought it best. But sometimes I wonder if I should—own it.” LisBeth stopped abruptly. “Mac knew and it didn’t matter. I wonder what David Brad
dock would think, or do.”

  Augusta interrupted her. “LisBeth, I’ve always believed that there’s only one color that matters. Red. The blood of our dear Savior. Your mother felt that way too. Not everyone does, I know. I wish I could give you certain advice.” Augusta sighed. “Fact is, I’m not sure what I would do in your case, and I’m not certain what you should do, either. Just pray on it. God will tell you what’s best.”

  LisBeth swallowed hard before saying, “You know what I wonder about sometimes? Right before Mac left with General Custer—right before they rode out—Mac leaned down to kiss me good-bye, and I took off that locket Mama had given me, the one with our pictures in it. I took it off and put in around his neck.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Sometimes I lie awake at night and I picture the battle in my mind, and I see Mac dying, and—”

  “Don’t, dear, don’t put yourself through this!” Augusta urged. But LisBeth kept talking.

  “I see Mac, and he’s . . . dead, and I remember what the paper said about how things were. I wonder if somewhere, right now, some Sioux brave is wearing my locket.” LisBeth looked up at Augusta with wide eyes. “They do that, you know. They take trophies. Sometimes I lie awake at night and I picture a Sioux brave—like Papa—riding across the prairie, and he’s put on his finest things, like Mama said Papa did when they got married, and he’s wearing that locket.” LisBeth studied the floor and said, almost in a whisper, “That means that in a way part of me is out there—with the Lakota.”

  Looking up abruptly, LisBeth changed the subject. “Anyway, I’d like to go up to the school to visit Charity and see what it’s like there.” She added earnestly, “Charity says they have a Christian Sioux pastor up there. I’d like to meet a Christian Sioux. Then maybe I’d know a little about what Papa was like. Maybe I’d understand and know what I should do about me.”

  Augusta said doubtfully, “If you feel you need to make this trip, I’ll not stand in your way, LisBeth. When do you want to go?”