A Dream Unfolding

by Karen Baney

  Thanking the governor for the meal, Drew helped Hannah up and they walked back to their wagon.

  “Doctor! Doctor!” a sergeant yelled as he rode toward them.

  “Here!” Drew called back.

  “Come quick. Lieutenant Harrison has been shot.”

  She watched as Drew jumped up into the wagon to gather some of his medical supplies. With a nod to her, she followed. They ran toward the military section of the camp as fast as they could, Hannah hiking up her skirts to keep from tripping. Both were panting heavily by the time they reached the injured man. Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, Hannah watched as Drew flew into action. The wound appeared to be just below the man’s rib cage on his right side. Hannah dug in Drew’s bag for something to soak up the blood so he could better evaluate the injury. Once they slowed the flow of blood, he removed the man’s coat and shirt. The bullet wound did not appear very deep.

  Hannah looked at the young lieutenant’s face. Amazingly he was still conscious. His eyes were clouded with pain and his jaw was clenched shut. His face was pale, but other than those indications, he made no noise or movement. She had seen grown men with less severe wounds screaming in agony, writhing from pain. She respected his ability to control his pain.

  “Hannah, give him some ether so we can get this bullet out.”

  The lieutenant started to protest but a quick look from Drew silenced him. As soon as he was out, Drew quickly found the bullet. Then he disinfected the wound and wrapped it up.

  Hannah cleaned Drew’s instruments as he spoke to the lieutenant’s commanding officer. “I think the bullet missed vital organs. It wasn’t deep, so he should recover. Keep him warm and call me if he wakes before I come back to check on him.”

  Once back at their tent, they retired for the night. Twice Hannah stirred when Drew went back to check on his patient during the night. Each time she waited for his return and each time he reported the lieutenant slept soundly.

  At dawn, the sergeant stood outside the tent, concern edging his voice. “Dr. Anderson, the lieutenant is awake, but he ain’t looking so good.”

  Hannah prepared to join Drew, but he motioned for her to stay behind. She said a silent prayer for God to be with Drew.

  Since she was awake, she decided to go ahead and start the day. The wagon train was scheduled to pull out in a few hours, so Hannah packed up the tent. She would have Drew load it in the wagon when he returned. Knowing this would be the last opportunity to easily bake bread for some time, Hannah set about the task. Just as the bread finished, Drew returned. The worried look on his face said volumes.

  “He’s got an infection,” Drew solemnly stated. “I did my best to cleanse the wound, but it is festering nonetheless. He’s going to require close attention.” Drew ran his hands through his hair, a sign that he was struggling with something. “I hate to ask this of you, Hannah…you must drive the wagon.”

  She just stared at him, wide eyed, not certain she heard him correctly.

  “I’ll help you pack up, but then I need to ride in the military wagon with the lieutenant. If he takes a turn for the worse, they may not have time to ride back and get me. I’m sorry…”

  Hannah held up her hand to stop him. “Drew, I can do this. I was just caught off guard. Back on my father’s farm I had to handle the team on occasion. Please, don’t worry about me. I will ask Paul for help. You just take care of your patient,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

  Drew lightly placed his hand on her cheek. “Thank you, Hannah. I will join you for supper tonight.” Pulling her close, he sealed the promise with a kiss that heated her from fingers to toes. Amazing how he could still elicit that reaction from her after two years of marriage.

  “I’ll be praying for you,” she said as he finished loading the last things in the wagon. He smiled and left.

  Even with Paul’s help hitching the oxen, she was still slower than most. When she climbed up to the wagon seat and called “all set,” she realized her voice was one of the last. Nothing to be done about that. At the wagon master’s call to “fall in,” Hannah took her place in the long line of wagons. It was a routine that quickly came back, despite having stayed at the fort for a month.

  The gentle sway of the wagon calmed her nerves. She wished she had thought to wrap her hands, for she could already feel the blisters starting to form.

  She smiled as she thought of his kiss. Love for her husband swelled in her heart. She was sorry for being angry with him for so long. She was sorry for not trusting him to know what was best for their future. From this point forward, she vowed she would change.

  Chapter 11

  For four days, Hannah saw very little of Drew. He came for supper each night, checking on her, before returning to his patient. In the few short minutes they shared together, she learned that Lieutenant Harrison continued to struggle to fight the infection. Drew shared his concern over the continual traveling—the constant jostling worsened Harrison’s condition—but he understood the need to press on. Hannah continued to pray for the young man.

  Since Hannah drove the wagon all day, Betty took over meal preparations. The motherly figure made enough to feed her and Drew. Between Paul and a few other men, Hannah had all the help she needed caring for the oxen, getting water, and all the other daily chores Drew typically handled. She felt a little guilty when she found out the men worked extra hard to get water along this stretch of the river. It was not flowing freely, so the men had to dig into the Arkansas River’s bed for the life giving liquid. Yet, none complained.

  Climbing into the wagon, Hannah wrapped an extra blanket around her body. The temperature turned colder, the air crisp, and the skies alluded to snow. Over the past few days, the landscape changed from flat endless prairies to a gentle slope towards the Rocky Mountains. They were in Colorado now and would be nearing Fort Lyon in a few more days.

  Again, the complete silence of driving the wagon alone seemed endless. Hannah tried not to let it bother her, but her mind would not be still. And the topic brought a bit of pain. Why was she childless? Day after day the question rattled in her head, accusing. And, like the past few days, it hounded her incessantly. Why hadn’t she and Drew had a baby? They had been married for over two years now. They had plenty of opportunity to conceive, but had not. Was there something wrong with her womb? Was she one of those misfortunate women who were not capable of having a child? Was it Drew? How long would it be? Why would a babe not come? Lord, you know how much I want to give Drew a child. I don’t understand. Please help me. I want a child so badly. My arms feel empty day after day. I was so certain we would have a child by now. When, Lord, when? On and on her thoughts interlaced with her prayers. She wanted to be a mother more than anything.

  Her thoughts must have etched deep lines in her face, for when the wagon train camped for dinner Betty pulled her aside for a few minutes.

  “What’s wrong, dear?”

  Sighing, Hannah confided, “I have been dwelling on my childlessness for days now.”

  “Oh, is that all dear? Don’t worry. At least that’s what the good book says. You are not to worry about tomorrow, that’s God’s job.” Betty smiled and patted her hand as if that would make Hannah’s mind stop.

  “But, Drew and I have been married for over two years. All of my friends back home had a wee one in the arms by now. Why not me?”

  “Dear, babies come in God’s time, not ours. Many women go years before their first babe is born. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong or that God doesn’t have it in mind to give you a child. He’s just taking his time with it.”

  Wrapping her hands to keep the blisters from getting worse, Hannah thought about what Betty said. Maybe her fears were unfounded. Maybe it was just a matter of waiting for God’s timing. Knowing that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

  That evening, once she had the wagon positioned in the customary circle, Hannah jumped down, startling at the unexpected sound of Drew’s voice.

&n
bsp; “Hello, beautiful,” he said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  “Drew. I’ve missed you.” Not caring that they could have an audience, she kissed her husband.

  Groaning, he pulled away. “I’ve missed you too.”

  “How’s the Lieutenant … Harrison was it?” She asked as Drew began unhitching the oxen.

  “He is doing much better. He turned the corner this morning.”

  “Will you be coming back soon?” Hannah asked, hopeful that the lieutenant would not continue to need round the clock care. The dark circles under Drew’s eyes made him look older. He needed to rest. And she wanted him back with her.

  “No. He still needs a great deal of attention.”

  Once he had the yoke removed from the oxen, Drew led them out to graze. As he returned to camp, Hannah thought he might collapse from exhaustion. Instead, he sat next to her, thanking Betty for the meal.

  As Hannah took a seat next to her husband, Paul said, “The wagon master says we’re pulling out in the morning. He said since we lost so much time at Fort Larned, once we arrive at Fort Lyon, we will only stay a few days. We’ll press on and likely won’t stop for an extended time until we reach New Mexico.”

  Drew sighed, his weariness evident. Hannah knew he was concerned for his patient. This was definitely not the news he had been hoping for.

  The stay at Fort Lyon was only a week, much to Drew’s chagrin. He hoped they would stay for a few more days, as the lieutenant’s return to health proved slow—and because Drew longed to be reunited with his wife.

  He felt terrible for leaving Hannah to fend for herself for the past fifteen days. Guilt stared him in the face as he thought of her driving the wagon alone day after day, a job he should be doing. The assistant wagon master’s warning that he needed to manage things on his own plagued him. While the lieutenant was making positive progress, he was not healthy enough to be left alone. Drew thought he might be able to ask one of the women to care for the young man, but they seemed to be busy caring for their own families, or they were employed by the army or freight teamsters to cook and clean and would not leave their job.

  Though the tension between him and Hannah eased during this time, Drew still longed to talk to her—to make sure she was doing well and reassure her that he loved her. The weeks prior to this separation had been difficult. He tried reaching out to her, but she put up a wall. The first sign of a crack in that strong defense came when he asked her to turn the Indian woman’s baby. She listened to each of his instructions and followed them precisely, despite her obvious fear. If they hadn’t been across the river from their own camp, Drew would have taken her in his arms and showered her with kisses. Instead, he gave as much encouragement as he could.

  Then, the night the lieutenant was shot, he saw Hannah softening. She even smiled at him before the dinner with the governor—and again several times during dinner.

  Her bold kiss the day before they arrived at Fort Lyon made his heart somersault within his chest. The barriers around her heart seemed to be falling. She was letting him near again and it felt good.

  Yawning, Drew longed for just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. He couldn’t remember the last night he slept for more than an hour or two at a time. Prior to the lieutenant’s injury, most nights were fitful, filled with concern of what was to come. Second guessing his decision haunted him. Did he make the right choice for Hannah? For himself? Should he do as so many others suggested and follow the governor’s party to Granite Creek?

  Lieutenant Harrison stirred, capturing his attention. Looking over, Drew saw he was awake.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Harrison cleared his throat and hoarsely responded, “Like I’ve been shot.” A smiled played at the corner of his eyes.

  “Ah, well, that’s understandable.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Drew nodded.

  “The other day when I was dying,” he said, holding his hand up to stop Drew from arguing the point. “Don’t say I wasn’t, for I know I was. When you laid your hands over the wound and prayed, why did you do that?”

  Drew hesitated. He knew that prayer worked. He prayed constantly when working with patients. Whenever he felt he had done all that was humanly possible, he would often get a sense that he should place his hands over the wound and pray for healing. Sometimes God chose to heal, and sometimes he didn’t. Drew knew he was not responsible for the outcome, he was just supposed to obey. How to explain that to the young man? “I was asking God to do for you what I could not.”

  A frown crossed Lieutenant Harrison’s face. “Why would God care to heal me?”

  Drew did not know how to respond, so he waited, anticipating that Harrison had more to say.

  “I don’t deserve to live. I have led men into battle in this terrible war to kill their fellow Americans. It doesn’t matter if the government says the southern states are the enemy. We are all brothers. I have instructed men on the most effective way to surround and kill as many of the so called enemy as possible.” He paused as if wrestling with a great weight. “I have even fired into a group of men, of which my own cousin was standing, to have it end in what my commander called a victory. That is not what I call it. Why would God want to save a man like that?”

  Drew’s heart went out to the man. This War Between the States pitted brother against brother, or in his case cousin against cousin. What do you say to someone who has experienced such tragedy? Lord, please give me the words.

  “Because he loves you.” Drew was surprised by his own response, but went with the Lord’s leading. “It is not because we deserve it. None of us do. It is simply because he loves you. If you ask him for forgiveness, the Bible says that he will give it to you. He will not hold it against you. He will freely make things right with you. All you have to do is ask.”

  The lieutenant’s frown remained in place. Drew wanted to say more, but remained silent. He knew each person had to come to God in their own time and in their own way.

  Finally, after several minutes, the frown lessened. Instead of acknowledging what Drew said about God, the Harrison simply asked for some water. A few sips satisfied him. The sway of the wagon had a lulling effect. His patient’s eyes grew droopy and he soon fell asleep again. Drew decided he would make a point of praying for the young man’s troubled heart in addition to his healing.

  Four days later, in the evening, the wagon train pulled into Gray’s Ranch at Picketware, Colorado. The Grays were known for their hospitality and the ranch had become a sort of way station along the Santa Fe Trail, according to the lieutenant. They entertained travelers so often they built out a dining area and had a full time cook for the sole purpose of feeding guests.

  Drew’s legs felt heavy with exhaustion as he walked toward the dining hall. If it hadn’t been for the governor specifically requesting he and Hannah join him for dinner, Drew would have opted to skip the meal altogether. The lack of sleep was past taking its toll. He knew he needed to rest soon, or his body would force the issue. Seeing Hannah waiting for him brought a smile to his lips, although it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

  “Hannah.”

  She reached up and pecked him on the cheek. “Drew, you look positively exhausted. Are you sure you want to dine with the governor?”

  Drew shrugged and offered her his arm.

  “At least say you will come back to our camp tonight? If the lieutenant is not well enough to be left alone then let’s see if someone else can care for him,” concern etched Hannah’s face.

  Perhaps he should do as she suggested. “Who do you propose we get to watch him?”

  “Betty said she would for the next few days. Drew, you really need to rest. I know how you get when you have patients that need care, but in this case I think you are pushing yourself too far. It shows.”

  Leave it to his wife to set him straight. “Alright.”

  “Good, I’ll talk to Betty.”

  Once inside the large room, Drew
held the chair out for Hannah. Taking the seat next to her, his stomach growled. When was the last time he ate? Probably supper last night. He couldn’t remember. The conversation went on around him, but Drew found his attention fading. He felt Hannah nudge his arm and realized someone must have asked him a question.

  “Pardon?” he asked, waiting to see who responded.

  “How is your patient?” Mr. Richmond asked.

  “Doing better. He still has a ways to go, but he should recover fully.”

  “There is news from the Arizona Territory,” Secretary McCormick stated.

  “Yes, while at Fort Lyon we came across a copy of the Santa Fe newspaper from a few weeks ago,” Mr. Richmond added. “John Clark is on his way to survey Captain Walker’s gold fields in the Granite Creek area.”

  “The newspaper,” said Secretary McCormick, a former newspaper man himself, “described the area where the Walker Party settled as having a particularly pleasant climate, unequalled in California. They said the temperatures are mild, exempt from either extreme heat or cold.”

  Mr. Richmond continued excitedly, “And they said the mountains are covered with a forest of rare timber such as cedar, pine, black oak, walnut, and more. There’s plenty of wild antelope, deer, turkey, and mountain sheep.”

  “A member of Walker’s Party reportedly discovered gold in the area several years ago, but never set up a mine until meeting Captain Walker,” Secretary McCormick said. “Then last year he led a group of thirty or so men on an expedition from California, through Arizona and on into New Mexico before deciding to return to Arizona. It was in early May of this year they set up their claims in the Granite Creek area along the Hassayampa River. Quite a fascinating story.”

  Drew agreed that it was fascinating, but he was having a hard time paying attention. Sleep was nudging harder, vying for attention. He simply nodded, as the hostess removed their dinner plates. She replaced his with a piece of cake with a candle.