by Vella Munn
An infant lay wrapped in a blanket in a handmade cradle at the other side of the fireplace. Kayla kept sneaking glances at the baby. Because its head was partly covered, she couldn't be sure, but it looked almost newborn and seemed to have fine, blond hair.
“Can I get you a cup of water?” the woman asked. “Something to eat.”
Kayla caught the aroma of fresh-baked bread. “Yes, please.” Mindful of her role, she let her head drop back and closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?” the woman asked anxiously. “Are you injured?”
“Injured? Oh, no.” She opened her eyes. “Just so tired.” And so nervous I’m surprised you can’t hear my heart.
The woman—she'd said her name was Elizabeth Harper—hurried over to the kitchen that had been built into a corner of the living room. Two loaves of bread were on a small counter and near that a pitcher of water. “I churned butter today,” the woman said. “Would you like some?”
“Very much, thank you. Uh, just a little. I do not mean to be a burden.” Was that the right word? “When I saw your place, I knew my prayers had been answered.”
“You are separated from your family?” Will Harper, who was Elizabeth's husband, was slender almost to the point of being skinny with big, capable looking hands and intense blue eyes. Like the others, he needed a haircut and shampoo.
Kayla accepted the chipped cup full of water and downed it. She'd gotten so sweaty today. Her face and neck felt gritty, and her feet inside the too-big boots Morning Song’s father had given her had developed blisters.
Acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes on her, she introduced herself as Virginia Stephens and began the story she’d rehearsed until she half believed it was the truth. Her father had brought the family out west with plans to settle in southern California. They'd gotten as far as the Columbia River when word reached them that the land around Tule Lake was suitable for raising potatoes and running cattle.
“We have twenty head,” she said, hoping that sounded like a lot. “They were worn down from traveling so far from where we lived in Illinois.” Did that make sense? Please, let that make sense. “So Papa decided to come here, at least for a while.”
“He gave no thought to the trouble with the Modocs?” the older man who'd introduced himself as Raymond Harper, Elizabeth's father, asked.
“Some.” She tried to keep her response vague. “But when my papa makes up his mind about something, there is no changing it.” What if that isn't Morning Song's baby? What do I do then?
“Hmm. Darned foolish seems to me.”
“Papa, let her continue,” Elizabeth said.
Between bites of the most delicious bread and butter she'd ever eaten, Kayla did just that. Hoping she wouldn't be asked for details, she hurried over details of the journey with her parents and three brothers, two older, one a year younger than her. After heading south from the Columbia, they'd gotten through the mountains and reached a large basin where they'd stayed for a few days before heading east again. Fortunately, Kayla had been to Klamath Falls and remembered that the area was known as a basin. What she didn’t know was whether there’d been any kind of town there back then.
“Papa didn't—did not have an exact plan of where we would settle,” she continued. “He wanted to go to Fort Klamath—” Fort Klamath? That was right, wasn't it? “—and get some advice. I think—I pray that is where my family is heading. We have to have some land. That’s what Papa kept saying, that getting land for the cows comes first.” Like I know how people did that back then.
“My dear, surely they are looking for you.”
“Oh, they are. I mean, I know they want to, but they do not know where I am.”
“How long ago did you get separated from them?” Elizabeth asked.
“The man is a fool!” her father exclaimed.
Before Kayla could think of a response, the baby started to cry. With a glare at her father, who she obviously held responsible for waking the infant, Elizabeth went over and picked it up. The blanket fell away, revealing downy, nearly white hair. Kayla's heart sank.
“He—he's beautiful,” she managed around the child's startled sobs.
“She.” Will corrected as his wife placed the baby over her shoulder and began patting its little back.
“She?” Was this a dream?
“Our miracle,” Raymond said in a gentle tone. “Born a week ago.”
“Miracle?” Kayla repeated. Not Morning Song's son. What had happened to him? Please, let him be all right!
“Will and I have been married five years,” Elizabeth said as the baby quieted. “My first husband died when I had only been married a few months. I wasn’t yet pregnant. I was single for two years after that, back living with my parents. Will and I wanted children, but it did not happen. Not until Sara.”
The way the three adults looked at each other and then at Sara left no doubt in Kayla's mind about how much they loved the newborn. Certainly Elizabeth must have worried about her ability to have children. What had it been like to give birth with only her husband and father around?
“I—that's wonderful.”
Will's loving look faded. “That is what makes the hostilities with the Modocs so nerve-wracking. We want to make this our home and to raise Sara and the other children we want to have here.”
“It is our home," his father-in-law interjected. His harsh tone belied his frail appearance. “The savages will not force us to leave!”
“Papa, not now,” Elizabeth warned. “Virginia, these uncertain times are hard on all of us. Everyone is nervous and upset. Once the army prevails, we can put our minds and bodies to the task of making the land profitable. But until then—” She stopped and cocked her head to one side. Kayla didn't hear anything. Just the same, she sent a silent order to Morning Song to remain where she was.
How could she tell Morning Song that her child wasn't here?
If he was dead—
“It isn't that we do not have faith in our military,” Raymond was saying. “The savages should have never been allowed to leave the reservation. When they did they should have been dealt with harshly, immediately. This matter of half measures only prolongs the situation and makes the savages think they can defy the army. I say and will continue to say that the only thing the Indians understand is force. They must be made to obey the law! And if they do not...”
But they were here first. Only by gritting her teeth was Kayla able to keep from speaking her mind.
“It is so complicated,” she said instead.
“And frightening,” Elizabeth said. “I wish—” She glanced first at her husband and then her father. “I am of a mind to go to Fort Klamath and stay there until the hostilities are over. But the men believe otherwise. They say if we leave, the savages will burn our home and kill any of the cattle we cannot take with us.”
Kayla was learning something important about the way at least one family felt about the Modocs, but how could she concentrate on anything except discovering what had happened to Morning Song's baby? She belatedly realized that Will was speaking.
“Surely your parents feel the same way,” he said. “They would not have come here if they did not.”
Feel the same way about what? “They did not speak of it to us children,” she answered lamely.
“Impossible!” Raymond got to his feet. “Only a fool would bring his children here without informing them of the danger. Is that what happened? Your father was so lax in his responsibilities that he did not sufficiently warn you about—”
“Papa, please,” Elizabeth interrupted. Once again she paused, listening. “It is not our concern how another family—”
“Not our concern! Virginia's father is a fool. As a result, she has become our responsibility.”
Throughout this, Will calmly watched the discussion between his wife and father-in-law. He winked at Kayla. “As you can tell, father and daughter are of a different mind on this—and other matters. They are both strong and opinionated. H
opefully they will allow you to finish your tale. How did you get separated?”
No matter how hard Kayla concentrated, she didn't have the answer. She'd worked on her story on the way here but now, distracted by fear of what might have happened to her friend's child, she couldn't think.
“It is complicated.”
“Is it?” Raymond gave her a skeptical look. “Perhaps you ran away.”
Oh, thank you! About to agree, she was distracted when Will took their daughter from his wife.
“Go,” Will said. “She will learn of it anyway.”
A thousand questions crowded Kayla's mind, but she forced herself to wait while Elizabeth went into one of the two bedrooms. The woman returned shortly with another baby in her arms.
Kayla leaned forward, nearly falling out of the rocking chair. She couldn't take her eyes off the baby, couldn't think of anything else.
“Do you want to see him?” Elizabeth asked.
Him. Kayla managed to nod, managed to get her feet under her. She walked over to Elizabeth on shaky legs. This child stared up at her as if he’d never seen anything this strange before, his black eyes shining and bright. His hair was as dark as his eyes, his skin the same shade as Morning Song's.
“Modoc,” Elizabeth said simply.
“You—” Kayla swallowed and tried again. “You have a Modoc child?”
“You are shocked?” Elizabeth asked. The baby opened his mouth, and Elizabeth placed her knuckle in it for him to chew on. The way she held Morning Song's child, there was no doubt that she cared about him—maybe loved him. For his part, the little one looked content.
“What?” Kayla managed. “Uh—I didn't expect—”
“You did not expect to find us caring for the infant of our enemies?” Raymond asked. He watched her intently.
“No, I didn't.” The baby was beautiful, healthy and happy looking—older than the little girl Will held. “It never occurred to me.”
Elizabeth studied her father with what Kayla thought was a wary expression. “He is an orphan,” she said. “I could not let him die. He is such a sweet-natured little thing. He hardly ever cries. I have been told that Indians train their babies not to cry so their enemies cannot find them. Maybe that is why he’s so quiet.”
No, not an orphan. “Oh,” Kayla said because she didn't trust herself to say anything else.
As she stood looking down at the baby, trying to get over her surprise and relief, Raymond explained that he had been out looking for some missing cattle when he came across a dead Modoc woman and the baby. The woman had been quite elderly, and he assumed she’d died of natural causes.
“I brought the child home because otherwise he would not live,” Raymond said. “I certainly was not going to risk my life trying to return him to his people, and what would the army do with him? They have no nursing mothers among them.” Kayla was still trying to comprehend why Raymond had lied about how he'd gotten the baby, but she forced herself to concentrate.
“Sara had not yet been born,” Raymond said. For the first time, his voice and features softened. He looked lovingly at his granddaughter. “But Elizabeth already had an abundance of milk, and I knew she would not deny this little one anything.”
Kayla was barely aware of what she was doing when she extended her arms. Elizabeth gave her a questioning look, then handed the child to her. The little boy squirmed before settling down to stare at her. He must have thought she was funny looking because he suddenly laughed.
“He does not yet know he is different from us,” Will said. “And by the time he does, it will not matter.”
“Not matter?” If she bolted for the door, could she could open it and run into the night before they stopped her? No. Don’t even think about it.
Will rocked little Sara as he explained that their intention was to raise the Modoc boy as a rancher. He'd learn to speak English and go to school. They wouldn't tell him about his heritage until they'd made sure he believed he owed his allegiance to those who were raising him. They'd make sure he realized how fortunate he was to be spared a Modoc upbringing and life.
“We are his salvation,” Raymond said. “Without me, he would have died out there. Without my daughter's milk, he would starve, and without Will, he would not have a roof over his head. He will be grateful to us. All his life, grateful. And as a boy, he will be a great help on the ranch.”
Kayla's head throbbed. It wasn't right! The boy belonged with his mother and uncle and grandparents.
“You think we did wrong?” Elizabeth asked. “That my father should have left him where he found him?”
But that wasn't what had happened!
“When I first saw him, I had only one thought,” Raymond said softly. “Sara had not yet been born. If she did not survive the birth—which, given my daughter's age and difficulties—at least my daughter's arms would not be empty.”
Finally Kayla understood. Despite his uncaring attitude toward the Modocs, Raymond was a loving father. He might not have given his heart to this Indian baby, but he knew how desperately his daughter wanted a child. He'd found an infant, grabbed him from his Modoc grandmother's arms, and presented him to his daughter. Then, despite his fears, his granddaughter had been born alive and well. Now there were two infants in the house—one who belonged and another who didn't.
One who had a mother waiting for him.
Chapter Sixteen
Kayla thought the others would never fall asleep. She was also afraid that despite the tension she was under she'd nod off and start snoring before they did. Grateful for the suggestion that she'd run away, she concocted a tale about how she and her father had argued because he thought she spent too much time reading and needed to help her mother more. Fortunately, as an avid reader she’d been able to name a couple of books that had been in existence then. She'd argued back that she did her chores, and he objected to her love of books because he could barely sign his name. He'd angrily retorted that supporting his family hadn't left time for such nonsense. Stung, she'd stomped off.
After spending a day and night and nearly another night alone and hungry in the wilderness, Kayla–or Virginia—was desperate to be reunited with her family.
Elizabeth seemed to accept her explanation, but she couldn't be sure about Will and knew Raymond considered her a reckless fool. Still, he hadn't objected when Elizabeth announced that she expected her father and husband to take Virginia to the fort in the morning.
Raymond had one bedroom to himself while Will and Elizabeth shared the slightly larger one with the two babies. Elizabeth gave Kayla a couple of blankets. After putting one on the floor in the living room, she used the other to cover herself. Fighting sleep, she silently thanked Elizabeth for nursing both infants before going to bed. Elizabeth had explained that little Sara woke up several times during the night, but James, as they'd named Morning Song's baby, usually slept until morning.
James? No matter that Morning Song and her husband hadn't yet named their baby; it would never be James!
Desperate to give her mind something to do so she wouldn't nod off, Kayla tried to imagine what her parents were doing. Unfortunately, she didn't know whether it was day or night in the real world. If it was day, her mother could be showing houses although she might be writing up contracts or helping a homeowner price their place. She wasn't sure what her mother did when she was in the office, only that she didn't like having to answer the phones. Kayla had spent a couple of days following her mother around as part of a school project and had been amazed by how many things her mother could juggle at once, and how important it was to be nice to everyone. As for her father, he spent so much of his time trying to get agencies and organizations to give money to the hospital that he was probably either in a meeting or on the phone. She’d also shadowed him one day and had decided she understood what her mother did much better than she did her father.
Their work seemed so boring. Boring, but a million times safer than what she was doing—or would try to do as s
oon as...
Kayla woke with a start. Disoriented, it took her the better part of a minute to remember where she was. It didn't take that long to realize what had wakened her. She wasn't used to sleeping on a hard floor. Thank goodness for small favors.
She sat up. The fire was down to coals, but the room still felt warm. Fortunately, the coals gave off enough light that she could see the room's details and closed doors leading to the bedrooms. Maybe, she wondered, if she hadn’t been here they would have left the doors open for warmth.
Fear took a bite out of her, but she got to her feet, put back on the uncomfortable boots, and forced herself to tiptoe toward the door leading to where Morning Song's baby slept.
I don't know if I can do this, she silently told Morning Song. I know I promised, but if someone wakes up or I make too much noise, I...
Thinking wasn't getting her anywhere except sick to her stomach. She had to act. Fast. Because she'd gone into the bedroom while Elizabeth was putting the babies to bed, fortunately she knew which crib held Morning Song's child. She'd tried not to notice when Elizabeth kissed the baby's forehead, tried not to hear her whispered lullaby, but she had. It didn't matter! Nothing did, except taking the child in her arms, hurrying out of the bedroom, across the living room, and outside. Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t dry.
To her horror, the bedroom door scraped against the floor. Because it had a rope stuck through a hole in the wood instead of a knob, she couldn't lift it. After a few inches, the scraping sound died away, hopefully without disturbing Elizabeth or Will. Their bed took up nearly half the limited space, leaving her with barely enough room to squeeze between the cribs. Her face felt numb; she couldn't make her hands stop shaking.