Prairie Storm

by Catherine Palmer

  “Brother Elijah, this is my son!” Mother Margaret cried, taking the preacher’s arm and pulling him close. “This is my sweet Moses. I found my baby!”

  The big man pumped Eli’s hand. “Thank you for bringin’ my mama to me, sir.”

  “Glad to do it.”

  “You precious man!” The old woman threw her arms around Eli. “Moses, I want you to know Brother Elijah. He’s my preacher from back home. Mercy, can he give a sermon! And that’s his little baby over there in the wagon. That’s Samuel. There’s Miz Lily a-holdin’ him, and I do declare, this must be the happiest day of my life. Thank you, Lord! Amen and hallelujah!”

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Mama,” Moses said with a laugh. “Come over here now and meet my wife and all your gran’kids.”

  “Gran’kids!” Mother Margaret threw up her hands. “Wait till Ben and Eva hear about this! Mercy, I think I’m about to faint.”

  Grinning, Eli watched the happy pair hurry across the yard to introduce Moses’ family to their long-lost matriarch. The preacher strolled back to the wagon and climbed up beside Lily and the baby.

  “I think that’s the first thing I ever got all the way right in my life,” he said. “Have you ever seen so much laughing and crying all at one time?”

  Lily blotted her handkerchief across her cheek. “It’s wonderful.” “You look about as happy as a tick-fevered calf.”

  At that, she actually chuckled. “Now you’ve got me laughing and crying at the same time.”

  Aching to take her in his arms, Eli did the next best thing. He leaned toward Lily and gave Samuel’s soft head a light kiss. “What are you sad about?”

  “I was thinking of all the other children Mother Margaret lost,” she said softly. “She once told me she’d given birth to fourteen. Three of them died, and all but Ben were sold. Now we’ve found Moses, but nine are still missing.”

  “You think Mother Margaret’s worrying about the nine she’s missing—or rejoicing over the one she found?”

  He studied the chaotic scene on the front porch of the little frame house. Never in all his days had he heard so much carrying-on. Little children jumped up and down. Dogs barked. Somebody began to sing. A couple of folks were even dancing.

  “I think,” Lily said, “that she’s mourning the nine, even though she’s rejoicing over the one.”

  “You’re missing Abigail, aren’t you?” Unable to stop himself, he slipped his arm around her. “I guess you can’t ever replace someone you’ve lost. No matter how hard you try.”

  Lily leaned against his shoulder, the drowsy baby nestled between them. “No one can take Abby’s place.”

  Eli observed the joyous family on the porch, and his own imminent loss grew sharper. “Nobody can take your place, Lily,” he said finally, voicing the fear that had troubled him for days. “Am I going to lose you?”

  She looked up. “You can’t lose something you don’t have. Do you have me, Elijah?”

  “A little bit, I hope.” He tightened his arm around her. “At least you choose to keep feeding my son. You talk to me without shouting. You don’t pull away when I touch you.”

  She shivered. “Elijah, I …”

  “What is it, Lily?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.” She drew in a deep breath and began. “Beatrice told me she has the money to build an opera house. Those two men who ran us out of the Crescent Moon Hotel are the ones she had met the last time we were in Topeka. She asked them if they’d finance a new show house, and they agreed to put up the cash. She’s already paid for a shipment of liquor and lined up a bartender. She’s planning to hire a cook, a juggler, a magician, and a ventriloquist.”

  “How about a singer?”

  “She wants me to sing,” Lily said. “She’s offered me good wages.”

  “Better than I can pay?”

  “Yes,” she said in a hushed voice. “Much better.”

  Elijah was pretty sure his heart had sunk to the bottom of his stomach, but he knew he had to keep talking. If Lily got wind of how much he cared about her, she’d hightail it right off.

  “Where’s Beatrice going to put up her opera house?” he asked.

  “Lawrence. A lot of the town was burned during the war, you know. They’re eager for people to move in and build.”

  “Lawrence, Kansas.”

  He repeated the name, even though he already knew where the city was located. Oh, Lord, help me. I can’t figure out what to say to Lily. I know I’m not supposed to think this way about her. She’s not a believer. You don’t want the two of us to feel tenderness for each other. But, Father, she’s special to me. It’s more than the baby, Lord. There’s something about Lily.

  “Beatrice took my melodeon with her when she left Hope,” she was saying. “It’s stored in the show wagon.”

  “Melodeon?” Eli tried to make sense of her words. “Is that something like an organ?”

  Lily nodded. “It’s mine. Will you help me get it?”

  “Get the melodeon?”

  “That’s what I said. Are you listening to me?”

  “Sure, I’m listening. You said Beatrice is building an opera house in Lawrence, Kansas. She wants you to sing, and you need me to take your melodeon out of the show wagon.”

  Lily drew back from him and looked into his eyes. “I’m not going with her.”

  Elijah stiffened up like he’d been shot. “You’re not going to Lawrence? You’re not going to sing?”

  “No.” She shifted Samuel to her other shoulder. “I’m going to Philadelphia.”

  “Philadelphia!” He was sure he’d been shot a second time. “That’s in Pennsylvania.”

  A smile crossed her lips. “You know your states very well.”

  “I borrowed an atlas one time when my pa and I were living near Albuquerque.”

  “I see.” She squared her shoulders. “Well, when I sell my melodeon, I’ll have some money for my train ticket. So, I’ll be going back to my father’s house in Philadelphia … after I’ve spent another month or two in Hope.”

  Hope! Eli didn’t need an atlas to know where that was. He felt so light he could have soared right over the wagon. But surely he’d heard her wrong. If Lily had the money for a train ticket to Philadelphia, she wouldn’t go back to the prairie. Would she?

  “You’re going to Hope again?” he asked. “With me and Sam?”

  She gave a little laugh. “Are you losing your hearing, Preacher-man? I’ll need to earn the rest of the money for my ticket, and I want to make sure this baby is strong and healthy.”

  “But what about your singing? What about Beatrice?”

  Lily lowered her head. “Bea has a good future ahead of her. With an opera house to run, she’ll stay busy and make good money. She can find another singer.”

  “Hallelujah!” Elijah said. “Praise the Lord. Amen and amen.” Lily laughed. “You’ve been listening to Mother Margaret too long. Oh, Elijah, I need a fresh start. I tried once when I ran away from Philadelphia. I thought I’d found the answers I was looking for. But even before Abigail died, my life became so … so …”

  “Mercy, you two, listen to this!” Mother Margaret called as she fairly flew across the yard. “I got me six gran’kids and three great-gran’babies! Three—can you beat that? Brother Elijah, you and Miz Lily better come meet all these folk. There’s more kin here than I can shake a stick at. Miz Lily, I want you to know God done blessed me with good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and runnin’ over! The Lord is wonderful; praise his holy name!”

  “Amen!” Eli said.

  “Hallelujah!” Lily added. “Amen and amen.”

  “This is the fighting-est baby I ever saw,” Dr. Schlissel said. “I suspect it’s going to take more than a spider and his careless parents to do him in.”

  The doctor lifted Samuel and turned the baby around in his big hands. Lily had been pleased to discover that during regular office hours, Dr. Schlissel’s dinner and smoldering cigar were no
t in evidence on the long table. Although the physician seemed determined to chide her and Elijah for failing to notice the spider bite, Lily took a measure of pride in the baby’s present state of health. After all, she had nursed him faithfully night and day, and his scrawny frame was starting to fill out.

  “You say you found this baby in a wagon that was shot full of arrows?” the doctor asked, turning to Elijah.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you happen to notice anything unusual about the folks in the wagon?”

  Elijah shook his head. “I mostly prayed over them while I buried them. I couldn’t think too clearly just then.”

  “Did you see which of them was a redskin?”

  Lily stared at the dark-haired baby in the doctor’s hands. A redskin? An Indian?

  Elijah rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from one foot to the other. “It was the mother,” he said finally. “I couldn’t tell what race she was. Maybe Indian or Mexican. She had real black hair.”

  “Then you got yourself a half-breed here.” The doctor laid Samuel back on the table. “You sure you want him? There’s a home for orphans and foundlings over in Kansas City. I could put the baby on a mail coach headed that way.”

  Lily clasped her hands together in disbelief. Put Samuel on a mail coach? Send him to an orphanage? Surely Elijah wouldn’t do such a heartless thing.

  She didn’t care what color the baby’s skin was or whether his hair would stay black as he grew older. His heritage didn’t matter in the least. Samuel was a beautiful child, a precious little boy. Everyone who saw him would recognize that, wouldn’t they? Surely people wouldn’t reject Samuel because of the circumstances of his birth or the color of his skin.

  “I didn’t really give the whole notion much thought before now,” the preacher said. “I guess Sam’s going to have a hard row to hoe in life.”

  “He sure is.”

  “Good thing he’s a fighter.” Scooping up the baby, Elijah planted a big kiss on the boy’s soft forehead. “Come on, little fellow. Let’s go home.”

  Relief flooding through her, Lily grabbed the baby’s bag and gave the doctor a final glance. A hard row to hoe. Whose life wasn’t? Elijah’s was. Hers certainly had been.

  Perhaps Samuel would face many difficult times ahead—maybe he would even walk through the valley of the shadow of death. No telling what kind of evil and heartbreak might lie in his path. But with Elijah Book as his father, the child would be watched over, tenderly loved, and diligently nurtured. Samuel Book, Lily decided, would grow up to be a strong and courageous man.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” she said. “For the medicine.”

  Out in the street, Mother Margaret was lifting Samuel into the wagon. Her face was suffused with the light of the waning sun as she hugged the tiny baby. “Mercy sakes, you’re gettin’ heavy,” she cooed. “Your mama’s gonna have to sew you some regular people clothes. You’ll be crawlin’ before long.”

  Your mama, Lily thought as Elijah helped her into the wagon. No, she wasn’t Samuel’s mother. But if anyone had tried to put that baby into an orphanage, she would have fought tooth and nail to prevent it. Already the thought of abandoning the child in a couple of months seemed unbearable. She had told Elijah that no one could take the place of Abigail—and she had meant it. But Samuel had carved out his own niche in Lily’s heart.

  Taking Samuel from Mother Margaret and gathering him close, Lily brushed a light kiss across the baby’s cheek. “I guess we’re ready to go back to Hope now,” she said. “After a stop at the boardinghouse to pick up my melodeon.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Mother Margaret said from her place in the wagon. “Once we fetch our bags, Brother Elijah, I’d like you to drive by Moses’ house one more time. I been considerin’ on this matter for a few hours, and I’ve made up my mind. Moses and his wife asked me to stay with their family as long as I want, and I believe I’ll do that. Would you tell Ben and Eva where I am? Would you give them my love?”

  Elijah gave the old woman a hug. “I don’t know how we’ll make it without you, Mother Margaret.”

  “Well,” she said, softly, “you’ve got the Lord, ain’t you?”

  Chapter 9

  LILY handed the baby to Mother Margaret and stepped down into Elijah Book’s arms. Though she dreaded the moments to come, she had made up her mind to confront Beatrice Waldowski. Elijah had reminded Lily that it would be a lot simpler just to take the melodeon from the show wagon and then head for Hope. But Bea deserved better.

  The flamboyant woman had befriended Lily at a desperate time, and she had continued to support her through the ups and downs that came their way. Most important, Bea had recognized and encouraged Lily’s singing ability. For that alone, she must be treated with respect.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Elijah asked as he walked Lily a few paces toward the boardinghouse. “I told you I’d stand by your side. I meant that.”

  She shook her head. “Bea doesn’t trust you. She thinks you’re trying to convert me to your religious ways.”

  “I am.”

  “You are?”

  At her startled look, he gave a chuckle. “I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t want you to know Jesus Christ the way I know him. But that’s not why I’m choosing to stand by you, Lily.”

  “It’s Samuel, isn’t it?”

  “God brought the two of us together for Sam’s sake, but it’s gone way beyond that. In spite of your hard ways, Lily Nolan, I care about you. I’ve come to know the woman inside you. I’d give my life to protect you.”

  Lily fingered the fringe on her shawl. She thought about telling Elijah how much he had come to mean to her in the past few days—how she enjoyed the deep sound of his voice, how she looked forward to his laughter, how she treasured watching him hold Samuel. She even liked fighting with the man.

  But she didn’t want to say too much. Philadelphia would be her destination before long. She couldn’t afford to let a man’s blue eyes and gentle heart sway her from her own path in life.

  “I’ll be back soon,” she said, touching his arm. “Elijah … pray for me.”

  Without waiting for a response, she hurried up onto the porch of the boardinghouse and knocked on Beatrice’s door. In a moment, she heard the sound of chairs scraping and voices murmuring. Lily had rarely known Beatrice to entertain gentlemen callers, but—

  “Lily?” The door swung open. Behind Beatrice stood a tall, beefy man with a thin black mustache. His face hardened at the sight of the young woman on the porch.

  “Beatrice,” Lily said, focusing on her friend, “I’ve come to tell you that the preacher’s baby is well.”

  “You interrupted me for that?” Bea pushed up the shoulder of her red silk gown. “Can’t you see I’m doing business, Lil? This is George Gibbons from the Crescent Moon. He’s one of the owners, if you catch my drift.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Gibbons,” Lily said. The man looked familiar, and she remembered seeing him at the hotel. “I’ve decided to go back to Hope, Bea,” she went on. “I wanted you to know that. And I’m going to take my melodeon with me.”

  For a moment, Beatrice stared in silence. Then her black-rimmed eyes narrowed. “You’re going with him?”

  “The baby needs me.”

  “You’ve let that preacher bamboozle you.” Her lips tightened to a white line. “You’re a coward and a weakling. You disgust me, Lily Nolan.”

  Stung, Lily stood her ground. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I was hoping we could part as friends.”

  “Who is this gal, Bea?” the man from the Crescent Moon asked. “I’ve seen her over at the hotel.”

  “She’s a traitor, that’s who she is,” Bea said. “I saved her from her pious father, and now she’s taken up with a preacher.”

  “I remember her,” George Gibbons said. “She was with the fellow we threw out of the hotel the other day. That preacher just about ruined our saloon business for the whole night.”
/>   For some odd reason, Lily felt a surge of pride in Elijah. “Mr. Book speaks from the heart.”

  “I’d like to punch him in the gut.”

  Just give it a try, Lily thought. Considering Elijah’s years on the cattle trail, she had no doubt the preacher could lay this loser out cold. Of course, Elijah had told her he was trying to turn the other cheek.

  “Good-bye, Bea,” Lily said, choosing to ignore the man. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget you.”

  She had turned to go when Beatrice burst through the doorway to embrace her. “Don’t leave me, Lily!” the woman cried. “I need you. I’ve counted on you. You’ve got to help me with the opera house.”

  “Beatrice, please—”

  “You can’t go with that man. You’re all I have. Oh, Lily, you have to sing for me. How can I have an opera house without a singer? You’re not really leaving, are you?” Bea pleaded, clasping Lily tightly. “Everything depends on you! You can’t take the melodeon. You can’t go.”

  “Bea, I’ve made up my mind,” Lily said. “I’m going back to Hope.”

  “You’re mad! I’ve offered you twice what that preacher can pay. Why would you turn me down?”

  “I need to help the baby.”

  “It’s not the baby!” Bea’s eyes were streaming now, black paint staining her cheeks as her desperation turned to rage. “It’s that preacher. He’s trapped you with his words. He’s snared you in his web of lies.”

  “This is my choice, Bea. I want to go back to Hope.”

  “No, Lily! You can’t. Tell me you won’t do this to me.”

  “I’m leaving, Bea.”

  “I’ll tell your father where you are!” Bea burst out. “I’ll write to him and tell him you’ve gone insane. He’ll come to Hope and find you. He’ll beat you black and blue.”

  Lily grasped the porch post beside her. “Beatrice!”

  “I will! I’ll tell him you ran off with a show man, and I’ll tell him everything you’ve done. We’ll see what happens then! You’ll pay for this, Lily Nolan.”