“He’s brutal in business … and no different at home,” Samuel said. “I’m done with him and his name. Forever. Beck was my mother’s maiden name, and I’m determined to spend the rest of my life being as different from my Pa as it’s possible to be.” He cleared his throat. “Emma disappeared a few weeks ago. Gone from her boarding house room without a word to me or anyone else. I finally found someone on the levee who told me she’d taken up with a Major Chadwick.” He glanced at Fannie. “Not married, mind you. Just … ‘took up with.’ Then I learned Chadwick was headed upriver to Fort Rice. So—” He took a deep breath. “Here I am.”
Fannie didn’t know what to say. Anything she could think of seemed so … empty. What did she know of trouble compared to what Samuel and his sister had been through?
Samuel reached for his hat and put it on. “I failed Emma, but I won’t fail you, Fannie. I have to get off the Far West while we’re tied up at Fort Rice and try to find her. I hope she’s found a new life, but I have to know.” He leaned forward, then, and took her hands in his. “But even if I do find her, I’ll come back to you. Lamar and I agree. We’re going to do everything we can to keep you safe and to help you find your aunt. If Emma isn’t in a good situation, I’ll convince her to come with us. Either way, both Lamar and I are committed to being the best friends we know how to be, for as long as you want us.”
Fannie soon learned that Mrs. Tatum had been right about the fare on the Far West. Evening menus listed a dozen meats, half a dozen vegetables, pies, and cakes, along with an impressive wine list. And yet, Fannie had no appetite for food, and she just wasn’t interested in polite dinner conversation with strangers. Too much had happened. There was too much to think about. Chatting with strangers about nothing wore her out.
She hated the truth behind Lamar’s statement that even though he was booked on the Far West as Samuel’s “manservant,” everyone on board—including him—would be happier if he stayed on the main deck.
She was relieved when Samuel proved himself to be an able and charming conversationalist. People soon assumed the two of them were brother and sister. Samuel encouraged the ruse, saying it would ward off any hint of scandal. It would also let any scoundrels of the E. C. Dandridge type know not to trifle with Fannie.
When he mentioned Dandridge, she forced a smile. “I believe I’ve learned to be a little wiser in that regard. But just the same, I appreciate your concern.” She was more than appreciative. She liked the idea that Samuel felt protective. Very much. Perhaps too much.
Tears seemed just below the surface for most of every day. Thinking of Mrs. Tatum’s kindness brought tears. Writing to Minette made her cry. She cried for Samuel’s sister, for Lamar, for the families affected by the Delores’s wreck. Once she even cried in sympathy for one of the servers who was scolded for dropping something. And every night, when she stared across at the empty space where Hannah should be, she cried some more.
“I miss you so much, Hannah… . I need you… . What’s it like to fall in love? … How do people know?” She remembered what Minette had said about an echo. She hadn’t heard one … yet.
Two weeks out of Sioux City, Fannie was standing at the railing just outside her cabin door when Samuel called to her. “Have you had breakfast?”
She turned around, surprised by an unexpected rush of joy at the prospect of breakfast with Samuel. When she shook her head, he grinned. “It’s good to see you smile.” He nodded behind him toward the dining saloon. “If we hurry, we’ll just make it.”
Samuel greeted several of the other diners by name as he poured coffee, and joined in their laughter when an older gentleman told about the child on board who’d kept everyone entertained the previous afternoon, playing with an imaginary rabbit. “At one point he had us all down on all fours searching under every table, every chair, in search of the invisible.” He pointed at Samuel as he said to Fannie, “Your brother saved the day, though. Found the imaginary rabbit … nibbling on his slippers.”
“I thought you said it was imaginary,” Fannie said with a frown.
Samuel grinned. “So were the slippers.”
After breakfast, they took chairs out onto the hurricane deck. Fannie opened Great Expectations and Samuel opened his Bible. Side by side, they read for a while. When the wind came up, they retired back inside. Once they were settled again, Fannie pointed to the Bible. “Read to me.”
“Really?”
“My father was more given to the Greeks. Mother used the Scriptures as a weapon. As I recall, she had a verse to support everything and everyone she condemned.”
Samuel looked down at the book in his hands. “Mine had a verse to support everything she did to help people … and her reaction to my father’s unforgivable behavior.”
“Read me those, if you can find them.”
“Easily.” Samuel opened the book. “She had them marked.”
When Samuel opened his mother’s Bible, Fannie was astonished at how abominably Mrs. Pilsner had treated her Bible—at least by Mother’s standards. “My mother would have had my head if I’d written in a book.”
Samuel smiled. “This is the only book I ever saw mine write in.” He began to read. “ ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’ ” Looking over at Fannie, he said, “I imagine those comforted her more than once.” He flipped a page. “She has a date written in the margin here.
“ ‘Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places.’ ”
“Something terrible must have just happened,” Fannie said.
Samuel nodded. “I don’t know what, but I don’t suppose it really matters. The sad truth is that it could have been any number of terrible things—all of them related to her being Mrs. Saul Pilsner.”
Fannie reached out to him. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Do the words give you comfort?”
He seemed to ponder that for a moment before answering. “Yes. I think they do.” He turned a few more pages. “Because of this.” He read aloud, “ ‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ ” He held up one hand. “Here’s what I know,” he said, holding his other hand opposite it. “Here’s what I don’t.” He nodded at the space in between his two hands. “That’s where faith lives. In the unseen space between the two.” He smiled. “I think that’s where hope lives, too.”
Fannie waved her hand through the space between Samuel’s. “All I see is empty air.”
“I’m beginning to think that from God’s side of things, there’s no such thing as empty.” He shrugged. “But then as soon as I think I have that figured out, I get confused again.” He made a fist and rapped his own head with his knuckles.” And then I decide it’s my head that’s empty.”
Fannie laughed with him. She glanced down at Mrs. Pilsner’s Bible. What if that book really did contain words from the mind of the God who’d made the river they were on … and everything stretching away from it … and all the rivers of the world. Oh, everyone believed God created the world in an intellectual sense. But Samuel was talking about a belief that was more than that. It seemed that his mother had had a kind of faith that took the words out of that book and put them into the decisions she made in her life. That was a far different kind of faith than Fannie knew. She prayed … but she was never certain anyone was listening. What would her life look like if she were more certain? What if she actually sought out the words in the Bible and let them rule her life? The idea was at once fascinating … and terrifying.
Samuel bent his head and peered up into her eyes. “Where’d you go?�
��
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Read some more,” she said. She loved the sound of Samuel’s voice, but there was more to it than that. She was beginning to love the words. What was that hymn Minette loved? Something about “beautiful words of life.” Did the Bible really contain words of life? For the first time in hers, Fannie wished she had her own Bible.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.
JOHN 3:16
There was always a sandbar to be gotten off … or over … or past. The weather became a major topic of conversation. Fannie wrote to Minette every few days, gathering up the letters and posting them at every opportunity as the Far West made its way upriver. She explained “lightering” to get off a sandbar and double-tripping to avoid grounding in shallow water. Fannie told Minette all about Samuel and Lamar and … Indians.
One evening in Dakotah Territory, every man on the boat with a weapon loaded it and lined the deck, watching the distant hills. Someone had reported seeing squads of Indians in the high grass and on the sides of the big hills. The captain ordered the brass howitzer loaded.
Fannie and the other women on board spent a sleepless night together in the saloon, ordered there by the captain in case of an attack. When dawn arrived, nervous laughter followed the announcement that it had likely been a false alarm. Someone joked about imaginary bunnies in the dining saloon … and imaginary Indians on the distant hills … and the ladies all seemed relieved that at least now they would have something of interest to write in their letters and diaries.
A few days later, the steamer passed a large encampment of Indians. Fannie stood at the railing, wishing that Hannah could see the tepees and the campfires. A group of women stood at the water’s edge. Fannie raised a hand in greeting. One returned the gesture. She grew increasingly nervous about what might happen at Fort Rice. She was going to go with Samuel to ask after Emma. The night before they were to land, she told Hannah about it.
“I’m worried for Samuel,” she said into the emptiness of her cabin. “What if Emma’s there? What if she isn’t?”
Fannie didn’t know which was more cause for concern. She did know that she cared about Samuel.
Although she’d seen plenty of illustrations in various publications, Fannie had never seen a military fort firsthand. Fort Rice was impressive. Its stockade rose ten feet in the air on three sides and stretched for hundreds of feet on a side. The Missouri River was the natural defense for the fourth side, which was open to the water. When the Far West landed, Samuel and Fannie were among the first ashore. They walked the entire circumference of the parade ground, past company barracks and officers’ quarters, the post hospital and storehouses, the powder magazine and the library. No one had heard of a Major Chadwick. The post headquarters stood apart from the east line of log buildings, and Samuel received the same news there. There was no Major Chadwick at Fort Rice.
Fannie and Samuel had just headed back toward the Far West when a soldier they’d talked to earlier flagged them down. “Any luck?” When they said no, he replied, “If you get a chance to telegraph territorial headquarters, give them the major’s company and they’ll be able to tell you where he’s stationed.”
“It isn’t actually Major Chadwick I’m trying to find,” Samuel finally said. “It’s my sister.” He cleared his throat. “I was told she was with him. Red hair, pale eyes. Pretty, except for a scar on her left cheek. Her name is Emma. Emma Pilsner. Unless they’ve married, that is.”
The soldier nodded. “I have three sisters,” he said. “Don’t see nearly enough of them.” He pointed toward a row of buildings in the distance. “If it was me, I’d ask over on Laundry Row. Most laundresses are married to enlisted men, but not all. Those ladies have a way of knowing just about everything that goes on here. If your sister was ever here, there’s a very good chance one of the laundresses will remember.”
And they did. The first one Samuel asked put her hands on her hips and said, “Is it Major Chadwick, now?” She laughed and called to a woman stirring lye soap in a huge cast-iron cauldron over an open fire. “You hear that, Charlotte? Johnny’s gotten himself promoted to major!” She squinted up at Samuel. “I always wondered why Em took up with him. She seemed smarter than that.”
“Can you … can you tell me where I might find her?” Samuel swallowed.
The woman seemed to sense the emotion behind the question. Her expression softened. She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure. The last I knew, Johnny had a terrible case of gold fever.” She shouted to the other woman. “Was it Virginia City they were headed to?”
The other woman nodded.
“There you have it, then. Virginia City. I told Em she was a fool to go with him, but she wouldn’t listen.” She peered at Samuel for a moment, and then she reached out and patted his forearm. “Johnny seemed to have true affection for her, hon. He’s good to his women. Even the ones he leaves behind have nice things to say about him.”
After Fort Rice, Samuel realized something new about Mother’s notes in her Bible. She’d underlined a lot of verses about worrying. Of course, they all said not to. Samuel hadn’t realized that Mother worried, but thinking that she did made him feel closer to her. He drank in the Bible’s “do not worries” like a man dying of thirst, trying to keep from worrying about Emma … Fannie … and what lay ahead for them all in Fort Benton and beyond.
One sleepless night when he was roaming the ship alone, he ended up sitting on the main deck, at the very tip of the prow, staring upriver. Lamar came to sit beside him. “You seem to be having a lot of trouble with sleeping lately.”
“I can’t stop thinking about Fort Benton. Alder Gulch. Virginia City.” He shook his head. “Emma’s tough. But Fannie? Fannie’s got no business in Fort Benton, let alone in a place like Virginia City.”
“She’ll be all right, son. Worryin’ won’t help it, can’t change it, don’t fix it.”
Samuel knew that what Lamar said was right. But it was easier to read “don’t worry” than to stop worrying.
Fannie was talking to Lamar one evening in late June when Samuel rushed toward them, his finger in his Bible, his eyes alight with … something. As soon as he was within earshot he blurted out, “Did you know Jesus is coming back?!”
Lamar smiled. “I believe I remember a preacher or two who said as much.”
“But that’s … incredible!”
“Amen,” Lamar said.
Samuel gestured toward the shore. “It changes everything. Everything over there. Everything about everything.”
Fannie didn’t quite see how a few Bible verses could change everything. Didn’t everyone realize they were going to see God again someday?
“Everyone needs to know,” Samuel said. “This book—” he tapped the Bible with his finger—“matters. Eternity depends on what we do with it. People need to know that!” His voice wavered with emotion. “If Emma had known, things might have been different for her.” He looked over at Lamar. “Am I crazy to think that?”
“It’s never crazy to believe what God says, son.” Lamar smiled again. “But the world is a hard place, and like you said the other day, there’s that space that sometimes feels like empty air. It can be mighty hard to hold on when a body feels like they’re in that place.”
Samuel looked down at the Bible. He nodded. “I think I see that. But it doesn’t change the fact that, if this book is true … if God reached into the world with his own Son … if he’s coming back to see that everything’s made right …” His voice broke. He swallowed. “If that’s all true, then he can make everything right inside of us, too. If we let him.” Samuel paused. “People need to know how much God loves them. They need to know that Jesus is alive … and he’s coming back.” He pointed to the Bible. “God’s love sings through this whole book. Even those begats that used to frustrate me show that he cares about everything. In every generation.”
“Now you really are sounding like a preacher,” Lamar sai
d, grinning.
Samuel laughed. “I’d be a terrible preacher.”
“Seems to me you’ve got the most important part of it down.” Lamar pointed at the Bible. “You love that book.”
“I do. But there’s still a lot of it I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing more irritating than a man that don’t know he don’t know. So you just keep thinking that way. After all, when it comes to the Almighty, it seems to me there’s always going to be a whole lot a man don’t know.”
Samuel laughed. “Then I’m more qualified than most.” He settled back and began to read to them. “ ‘For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him… . For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout … and the dead in Christ shall rise first… . Wherefore comfort one another with these words.’ ”
Fannie had to agree with Samuel. Those were wonderful, amazing, comforting words. The way he read them, his voice rang with hope and joy. Lamar was right. Samuel sounded like a preacher … and while she knew she should be thrilled, she wasn’t. Preachers married women who quietly went about their duty without causing disruptions. Preachers’ wives didn’t ask challenging questions about God. They led staid lives in solid communities where people looked up to them. They stayed in the background and did what they were told. Preachers’ wives were admirable.
And Fannie would never be able to be like that.
Dear Minette,
I apologize for the long gap between letters. There hasn’t been much to say that would be of interest. Samuel’s sister was not at Fort Rice, but there was news of her, and now Samuel has even more reason to venture out in search of Aunt Edith, for it seems that the two ladies may be in the same place, or at least in the same part of Montana. It is called Alder Gulch. Virginia City, the territorial capital, is there, as are a number of other gold camps. It seems that anyone in search of gold in Montana ends up there. It is over two hundred miles from Fort Benton, and I will admit that the idea of going there frightens me, but then, I have been frightened for weeks now, and still somehow I manage to continue. I have decided to try my hand at praying and hope that God will undertake to guide the next phase of this journey.
A Most Unsuitable Match Page 11