Love's Compass

by Gade, Carla; Franklin, Darlene;

  “These photographs came out lovely, Eliana. Celia will be pleased.” Maria Stafford leaned over the table to admire the pictures of her sister’s wedding party.

  “Oh! Maria, you startled me. Thank you for saying so.” Eliana smiled at her new friend. “This family portrait with you in it came out very nice. You photograph very well. I’d love to take a picture of you and Jacob sometime.”

  “I’m sure Jacob would like that. You’ve already done so much. It’s nice to have a place of our own again after living for such a long time with others. It was very kind of your father to let the upstairs apartment to us.”

  “I’m glad it pleases you. Why don’t you have some tea with me? I was about to take a break.”

  A short time later, the women sat in wicker chairs on the side porch of the studio, enjoying their tea and the pleasant afternoon.

  Maria took a sip and placed her cup back on the saucer. “Where will you be traveling, Eliana?”

  “Papa and I have to photograph some of the mining areas, and then we have a special assignment to photograph a prominent citizen in Silverton. It will accompany an interview to be published in the San Juan Prospector.”

  “Your travels sound exciting, but I do hope you are careful.” Maria arched an eyebrow. “Although you are rather skilled at handling dangerous situations. Thank you again for helping me with my injury.”

  “How is your wound?” Eliana took a sip from her porcelain cup.

  “It’s healing well, thank you.” Maria massaged her arm. “It seems like I’ve been healing in one way or another for over a year now. Losing my husband in a mining accident was more painful than any bullet wound could ever be. But I’m doing much better now and have become stronger for it.” Maria took another sip of her tea.

  “It must’ve been very difficult for you,” Eliana said. “There are many risks in loving someone, are there not?”

  “Do you speak of Yiska?” Maria asked. “I’ve noticed something special between the two of you.”

  Eliana felt the roses bloom in her cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Well, Jacob seemed to notice.” Maria gave her a gentle smile. “Love cannot be hidden. It even shines in the darkest places. Look at Celia and Thomas—when he became gravely ill this spring, it made her realize how true her feelings for him were. He insists it was her love that pulled him through.”

  “Yes, but is love enough?” Eliana asked.

  “No, it isn’t. You must also have faith,” Maria said. “In God, and each other.”

  The two women sat in silence, pondering these thoughts. As Eliana stared at the porch floor, a large boot landed on one of the steps. She glanced up, surprised to see Trask Whiley.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” Mr. Whiley flashed a wide grin.

  “Mr. Whiley! What brings you to Lake City?” Eliana greeted him with a cheerful smile, despite her reservations about his not allowing Yiska to go on the survey.

  “I had some business up this way. Just arrived on the Southern Overland Express. Perhaps I should’ve traveled here with you and your father last week,” he said.

  Eliana and Maria looked at one another then shook their heads with utmost dismay.

  “No. That would not have been a good idea,” Eliana said. “We encountered some trouble on the way.”

  “Yes,” Maria said, “but we had a heroic young man with us who saved us from marauding Indians.” She glanced at Eliana and smiled.

  “Yiska.” Mr. Whiley said.

  “You know him?” Maria asked.

  “Yes. I’m his boss…and his friend. Was anyone wounded?”

  “The driver was shot in the shoulder…and a bullet grazed Mrs. Stafford’s arm.”

  Mr. Whiley’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

  Maria nodded. “Thank you. I’m recovering quite well and am thankful no one was seriously injured.”

  “Forgive me, I’ve neglected to introduce you,” Eliana said. “This is Mrs. Maria Stafford. She and her son rent the apartment above our studio. They moved here from Willow Creek.”

  “That’s down my way, more or less.” Mr. Whiley tipped his hat. “Mrs. Stafford, a pleasure.”

  “Ma, Ma!” Jacob ran up and threw his arms around his mother’s neck. “Can I go down to the creek? Ace’s pa is going to take us fishing.”

  “Sure, son, but please mind your manners and say hello to Mr. Whiley, a friend of the Van Horns and of Yiska’s.”

  “Howdy, sir. You know Yiska? He’s my friend, too. He saved our lives!” Jacob smiled up at the tall man.

  “That’s what I’ve heard.” Mr. Whiley grinned. “Any good fish in that creek?”

  “Ace said it’s filled with trout. You can come with us if you’d like.”

  Mr. Whiley chuckled. “Maybe another day. I have some things I need to take care of. By the way, Miss Van Horn, where can I find your father?”

  “He’s out for the remainder of the afternoon, but you can see him at dinner tonight. That is, if you’ll come. We’ll eat at five o’clock. Maria and Jacob will be joining us.”

  “Five o’clock then. Ladies. Jacob.” Mr. Whiley tilted his hat and sauntered away.

  Maria turned to Eliana and whispered, “I didn’t know we are invited to dinner this evening.”

  “You are now. But I’ll need your help cooking the meal. I’m much better behind a camera than behind a stove.”

  “Easy there, Shadow.” Yiska leaned back as he led his horse down a rocky crag. He had escorted a small convoy of miners to Cunningham Gulch and now was headed back through Stony Pass. The anxious men he’d guided hoped to strike a silver vein in the hard-to-reach area and somehow managed to haul along some large, steam-powered equipment and other supplies with the help of their burros.

  Yiska continued his trek northeast and hoped to arrive at Rose’s Cabin within a few days. Miners who flooded the area almost always kept the new building’s many rooms occupied. Mr. Whiley had arranged for Yiska to use this stop as a connecting point for his next assignment. On his way there, he would go through the valley that had enthralled Eliana. Though it wouldn’t be as colorful as he’d described until after the summer rains, it would provide easier terrain for him and Shadow.

  Eliana marveled at the picturesque setting of Lake San Cristobal as friends and family gathered to celebrate Celia and Thomas’s wedding. Mountain views surrounded them, and pines towered over them, providing the perfect amount of shade. The wedding couldn’t have taken place on a finer day.

  Eliana, in her new blue dress, swirled around with Papa to the gleeful sound of fiddles.

  “You’re a fine dancer, Papa,” she said.

  Papa’s eyes crinkled. “As are you, my Sunshine. I’m going to sit this next one out, but I think I see someone who can take my place.” Papa snagged Jacob’s arm as he passed by. “Would you do me a favor, young man, and dance with Miss Eliana?”

  “Sure, Mr. Van Horn. I won’t be dancing with Ma anymore, since Mr. Whiley finally got her to dance with him,” Jacob said.

  The fiddles started to play again. Eliana took Jacob’s hands, and they swung round and round until the music stopped. “Thank you for the dance, sir.” She tried to catch her breath.

  “I’m going to get some lemonade. Would you like some, Miss Eliana?” Jacob asked.

  “That sounds like a grand idea, thank you. Would you bring it to me over at our picnic blanket?”

  “Sure. I’ll get some cake, too.”

  “Didn’t I already see you with some cake?” Eliana asked.

  An impish grin appeared on Jacob’s face. “Maybe.”

  “Well, I won’t tell,” Eliana whispered.

  She made her way to the old patchwork quilt that was spread out under a large pine. Papa leaned up against the tree talking with Reverend Darley, the minister who had performed the nuptials.

  “It’s such a beautiful day for a wedding!” Eliana beamed. “Reverend Darley, Celia was pleased that you were
here to perform the ceremony.”

  “It was my pleasure. And although this is a grand place for a wedding, maybe by this time next year others will have the privilege of having theirs in a church,” Reverend Darley said.

  “A church in Lake City? How wonderful.”

  “My brother, Alexander, the other Reverend Darley, is planning to start one here. He’s a carpenter as well as a minister, and he intends to build it himself.”

  “Excellent! I’m sure many will support the effort,” Papa said.

  “And what about you, Reverend Darley?” Eliana asked.

  “I’m pioneering in the San Juans. My mission is to bring the Gospel to the western slope. There are many new settlements and mining towns that need to hear the Word of God. There are some who haven’t heard it since they arrived here. I’ve preached to men, women, and burros, alike.” Reverend Darley smiled, arms resting across his knees.

  Eliana tilted her chin. “If there are no churches, where do you preach?”

  Reverend Darley held his hands out. “Anywhere they’ll listen. I’ll sit down with them in the mining camps or call a meeting in a saloon. I meet them where they are, as the Lord does with us.”

  “It sounds like you’re a missionary,” Eliana said.

  He nodded. “I am. Are not all believers bearing witness to Christ wherever they go?”

  Eliana thought about that. There was much truth in what he said.

  “Since we are made in His image, I suppose we ought to reflect Him to others. Aye?”

  Eliana turned to Papa. “That reminds me of Reverend Mattheson and his enthusiasm for telling others about the Lord.”

  “Do you mean Harland Mattheson?” Reverend Darley asked. “I believe he is occupied as a naturalist now. Does some work for the government.”

  Eliana looked at her father in confusion then turned back to Reverend Darley. “Isn’t he preaching anymore?”

  “Oh, I don’t think we’ve heard his last sermon yet.”

  Maria and Mr. Whiley walked over, lemonade in hand. Maria sat down on the blanket beside Eliana, but Mr. Whiley remained standing, towering above them like one of the ponderosa pines.

  Papa turned to the minister. “Reverend Darley, you’ve met Mrs. Stafford, Celia’s sister. And this is a friend of ours, Trask Whiley, here on business from Del Norte.”

  Reverend Darley cocked his head. “Del Norte, eh? Gateway to the San Juans. What type of business are you here for, Mr. Whiley?”

  “I own an outfitting company and thought I’d investigate the possibility of opening another in Lake City.”

  Jacob ran up to Eliana, a cup of lemonade sloshing about, and handed it to her, along with a plate of wedding cake. “Here, Miss Eliana.”

  “Thank you, Jacob. You’re a true gentleman.”

  Reverend Darley looked directly at Mr. Whiley. “You know, I’m about the Lord’s business, and I’d be pleased if you’d join us for Sunday meeting tomorrow. I’ve called a service at the grange. The ladies will pack baskets, and a hymn sing will follow.”

  Jacob tugged Mr. Whiley’s arm, “You won’t miss it, Mr. Whiley, will you?”

  Mr. Whiley looked down at Jacob, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt any.” He glanced at Maria. “You’ll be there, I take it?” Now it was Maria’s turn to blush.

  In a flash, Jacob ran off again to play with some cousins.

  Mr. Whiley addressed Papa. “John, about that business we discussed a few nights ago. I’ve decided to send Yiska on the survey after all. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest.” Mr. Whiley glanced at Eliana. “The benefits outweigh the risks.”

  “I’ve given it some thought myself and am in full agreement,” Papa said.

  Elated, Eliana refrained from hugging Papa.

  “If everything works out,” Whiley said, “he’ll have an additional role other than being a guide. I got word this morning that editor Wilson at the Prospector wants to hire him as a correspondent for the survey.”

  “What a great opportunity. It’s not a conflict for you?” Papa asked.

  “Not at all. In fact, I’ve been hoping he’d get a break like that. It will be good for him.”

  Maria looked up at Mr. Whiley. “Yiska mentioned that he was a journalist. If he’s half as good as that Anonymous Explorer I’ve read lately, he’s bound to make a name for himself.” Mr. Whiley, Papa, and Eliana smiled knowingly at one another.

  “Did I miss something?” she asked. At that moment, Jacob appeared by his mother’s side, faced flushed from play. “Oh, mercy, look at you. I might have to walk you down to the lake and let you have a swim.”

  Eliana’s heart filled with joy for Yiska’ good news. She would get to see him again! Her heart raced. She told herself to breathe lest she swoon from all the excitement.

  “Mr. Whiley, how do you plan on letting him know?” she asked.

  “If I only had a way to get word to him along the trail, maybe at Rose’s Cabin, but I can’t get out there myself.”

  “Maybe I could be of assistance,” Reverend Darley said. “I’m traveling that way and will be there for a couple of days. Then I’ll head down to Silverton as well. Chances are I’ll run into the fellow. What did you say his name is?”

  “Yiska.” Jacob piped up. “He’s part Indian, but that’s not all he is. He’s a journalist, too!”

  As the adults laughed, Eliana dared to hope. Could it be that Yiska’s dreams would soon come true? And could they ever include her? Lord, please watch over Yiska, wherever he may be.

  Yiska led Shadow along a narrow path high on a ridge. Mountain walls rose around him, but soon a green valley would be in view, dotted with rocks and streams and colored with purple lupine, red prairie fire, and blue columbine.

  As he turned the corner he came upon a pair of yearling brown bears about ten yards in front of him. He laid a hand on Shadow’s neck, careful not to make any abrupt moves. “Steady, boy,” he whispered.

  As the bears came closer he reached for the rifle that hung from his saddle and scanned the area. One of the bears swiped at the other, and a playful wrestling match ensued. Shadow snorted and began to back away. The young bears looked up.

  Yiska dropped the reins and cocked his gun, his heart thumping in his chest. The yearlings scampered away. Barely breathing, he waited before resuming his journey. Was the mother bear nearby?

  He listened, surrounded by mountain stillness and the sigh of the wind through the pines. Exhaling in relief, he lowered his gun, gathered the reins, and rubbed Shadow’s crest to calm him. Shadow pawed the ground, agitated, and attempted to turn.

  The yearlings’ mother charged toward them, a brown blur on the path. Yiska jerked his rifle up and fired. The she bear leaped for Yiska. She slammed into Shadow’s flank then fell dead.

  Shadow reared back from the bear’s massive weight, neighing shrilly. Yiska scrambled for the reins and flew backward over the edge of the ridge.

  He landed on a ledge several yards below in a motionless heap.

  Chapter 11

  Yiska moaned as he awoke to the damp nudge of Shadow’s nose against his face. The horse’s reins dangled on the ground. As his vision cleared, he realized he’d fallen from the narrow ridge above. How his horse found his way down and across the wide ledge he didn’t question—Shadow’s instincts were far better than his own.

  Yiska pulled himself up and looked down over the ledge. His rifle lay broken on the boulders below. He felt his hip for his side arm and was glad it was still there. He rubbed his sides and let out a slow exhale. His ribs were still intact. Except for some aches and bruises, he was all right. He sat up and grabbed his canteen from the pack behind his saddle, took a swig, and splashed a bit on his face.

  Yiska made his way back up the ridge, Shadow in tow. There lay the lifeless four-hundred-pound bear. He took off his coat and shirt and laid them on a rock. He tossed his hat there with them and wrapped a headband around his brow to keep his hair out of his face. He’d salvage the bear skin and wh
atever meat he could take with him. Nature would dispose of the refuse, but he’d have to work fast before the scent of blood drew the attention of wildcats or coyotes. He kneeled over the animal, preparing to cut away its thick coat.

  Click.

  Yiska looked up, sun glinting in his eyes. The barrel of a shotgun stared him in the face.

  “I hope you intend to share that with me, Injun.” A weather-beaten man in fringed buckskins and a wide-brimmed hat glared at him.

  Yiska eyed him carefully. He kept his voice calm. “Put that gun away, and I’ll give you what you want. There’s plenty here, but I could use a hand.”

  The heavily bearded man lowered his shotgun. “My name’s Bouclier—they call me Buck.”

  “Yiska Wilcox.”

  “You Whiley’s scout?”

  “I am.”

  Buck eyed the bear. “Looks like ya got yerself a good-sized brownie.”

  “She almost got me,” Yiska said. “I’ll take as much as I can, and you can have the rest.”

  “What are you planning to do with the fur?” the man asked.

  Yiska stood. “I might trade it up at Rose’s Cabin.”

  The mountaineer hoisted his shotgun back over his shoulder. “I could take it off yer hands…for a fair trade.” The man pointed his chin toward his horse and a fully loaded pack mule.

  Yiska swatted a fly away from his face. “Lost my rifle over the edge of that ridge.”

  “Good then. Let’s get to work on that beast.”

  The task complete, Yiska washed the thick, red blood from his arms and chest while Shadow drank from the stream. He cleaned his hatchet and knife and dried them with a bandanna. He strapped huge portions of meat wrapped in oilcloth behind his saddle and helped tie the bear skin to the trader’s mule.

  “Headin’ to Corydon Rose’s place, on my way to Ourey,” Buck said.

  “That’s where I’m going, too.”

  Buck nodded. “Well then, it looks like you’ve got yourself a travel companion.”