Plains of Promise (Wyoming Series Book 2)

by Colleen Coble

  Rand grinned. “Well, if we ever get in that situation, I’ll be sure to say that my wife has insisted on knowing where his woman is. He’ll be very impressed.”

  Sarah chuckled, then stood. “I’m going to bed. I’ll fall asleep right here in this chair if I don’t go now. You’d better get to bed too, Joel,” she told her brother. Joel didn’t complain but went off to his cot in the parlor.

  Rand yawned. “Me, too. See you all tomorrow.” He stood and followed his wife into the bedroom and shut the door.

  “I should be going, too,” Isaac said. “It’s been a long day.”

  Emmie stood and followed him to the door.

  “Try not to worry,” he said. He bent and kissed her on the forehead. “Things will be all right.”

  Emmie didn’t think so as she shut the door behind him. She just didn’t see any way out.

  thirteen

  The next morning Emmie hurried across the parade ground toward the Carrington residence. It was hard to keep her balance in the driving wind. Already four inches of snow had fallen and if she didn’t check on Frances soon, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get through the drifts. A pall of dread and foreboding hung over the little fort. She saw sober faces everywhere she looked. The biggest danger, Rand said, was that the Sioux would attack the fort itself. Only the Indians’ fear of the big howitzers kept them at bay. If they did attack, all would be lost, because the soldiers were outnumbered and low on ammunition.

  Frances was huddled in a quilt on the sofa by the fire when Mrs. Carrington ushered Emmie into the parlor. Frances was pale, but she seemed composed with a strange peace.

  “I somehow knew it would come to this,” she told Emmie. “George seemed determined to force a fight with the Indians. He idolized Fetterman, but I knew his rashness would come to a bad end. George just wouldn’t see it.”

  Someone knocked at the door again, and Sample, the Carrington’s orderly, led in a bearded man in his thirties. He was dressed in civilian clothes so he obviously wasn’t a soldier. Emmie thought he might be a scout. He had a wolf robe over his shoulder. He took off his hat and stood turning it in his hands in front of Frances.

  “Miz Grummond,” he began. “My name is John Phillips. I been a miner and a scout, but I ain’t never seen such a bad thing. You been through enough. I’m goin’ to Laramie for help for your sake if it costs me my life.” He pulled the robe from his shoulder and laid it across Frances’ lap. “Here is my wolf robe. I want you to have it to remember me by if I don’t make it back.”

  Frances was nearly speechless, but then she thanked him with tears in her eyes as she stroked the robe.

  “Are you going alone?” Emmie asked him.

  He shook his head. “Lieutenant Liddle has asked to go, too. We’re setting out at different times, though. If one of us don’t make it, maybe the other one will get through.”

  Isaac was going out through a blinding blizzard surrounded by hostile Indians? Why didn’t he tell her that last night? “I must go,” Emmie said as she fought to keep her composure.

  Everyone was assembled in the parlor when she arrived. Jake glanced at her when she came in, then quickly looked away. Isaac, his face set in a stubborn mask, stood stiffly with his back against the fireplace mantle. Sarah looked as though she had been crying.

  “So it’s true!” Emmie burst out. “You’re going to Fort Laramie.”

  “Someone has to go,” Isaac said. “We can’t just send Phillips and hope he makes it. Too much is at stake. We have to have reinforcements and ammo. If the Sioux attack, we’ll lose the fort itself and everyone in it.”

  “He’s right,” Rand said. “Wolverine said the Sioux were planning to attack soon. We can’t afford to wait and just hope headquarters will send the reinforcements Colonel Carrington has requested for months now.”

  “But why does it have to be you?” Emmie asked near tears.

  “Why not me?” Isaac said. “I don’t have a wife and children here like some of the other men. And I know this terrain. Besides I have the Lord on my side.” He said this last with a grin in Emmie’s direction.

  A bugle sounded at the other end of the fort. “That’s assembly,” Isaac said. “We have to go.” The men all put on their coats and filed out the door. Emmie wanted to run and fling her arms around Isaac one last time, but how could she with Jake there? What if she never saw Isaac again? She struggled against the tears as the door shut against the howling wind. She must not give in to despair! God was in control. She must trust Him no matter what happened. She whispered a prayer for Isaac’s safety as she watched his retreating back through the window.

  §

  The blizzard had intensified as Isaac, followed by Rand and Jake, fought the wind all the way across the parade ground. The little colonel stood stiffly in front of the assembling men. “I don’t have to tell you the urgency of the hour,” he said after all the men had fallen into formation. “I need some volunteers to go retrieve our dead comrades. I will not allow the Indians to think we care so little for our fallen that we would leave them for the wolves. They always retrieve their dead no matter what the cost.”

  Men everywhere lifted their hands eagerly, and he picked out Rand and Jake and ordered them to choose eighty more men to accompany the detail. “I will lead it myself,” he said. “It is my duty.”

  By the time Isaac had assembled his supplies for the trip, the detail to retrieve the dead was nearly ready to leave. John Phillips had already gone ahead, and Isaac wanted to get on his way. He was about to mount up when Jake approached him with a determined look on his face.

  “I need to speak with you before you go,” Jake said.

  Isaac turned and faced his friend. He had tried to hate him for what Jake was doing to him and Emmie, but he couldn’t. All Isaac could feel was compassion and pity.

  “I know I’ve been acting like a fool,” Jake said. “My brother has been none too gentle about pointing it out to me. I want you to know before you go that I’m releasing Emmie from her promise—if you make it back.” He grinned and thrust out his hand. “That’s a good incentive for you to fight to get through.”

  Isaac let out the breath he had been holding. It was just as he’d told Emmie: Be still and let God work it out. “Thank God.” He took Jake’s hand and pumped it. “It’s been hard for me to shut up and let God handle it.”

  A shadow darkened Jake’s face. “Yeah, I’ve been fighting God. Amelia would be ashamed of me. I’ve struggled with this thing every night. God wouldn’t let me sleep or eat. He just kept telling me like He told Job, ‘Where were you when I hung the stars in place?’ I don’t understand why He would take the one person who gave my life meaning without even letting me say good-bye.” Tears glistened in his eyes and he swallowed hard. “But I can’t fight Him. He knows best and I just have to trust Him, as hard as it is.”

  “What will you do with Gabrielle?” Isaac asked. “She still needs a mother.” He hesitated, then plunged ahead. “We would be willing to raise her.”

  “No, but thanks,” Jake said firmly. “I’m going to marry Morning Song.”

  Isaac’s eyes widened. “Have you asked her?” he asked slowly.

  “No, but I think she’ll agree. She loves Gabrielle.” He smiled. “You should see Morning Song with her. And her John needs a father.” He clapped Isaac on the back. “I don’t want to say anything until you get back. If you don’t make it, Emmie’s baby will need a father and I will honor my promise to Amelia.” He said this last with a defiant determination.

  “Agreed,” Isaac said. “I would want her taken care of.” He gripped Jake’s hand again. “Whatever happens, will you promise me that you will try to learn to love your new wife? Amelia wouldn’t want you to marry just for convenience. She intended for you to be happy.”

  Jake was silent a moment, then returned the pressure of Isaac’s fingers. “All I can say is I’ll try. I don’t see how I can ever love anyone but Amelia, but I will try.”

  “That’
s all I ask,” Isaac said. The two men looked at one another a moment. “Take care, Jake. You’re not going on any picnic yourself. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

  Jake nodded. “I’ll be careful. And Godspeed, my friend. I’ll be praying for you.”

  With a last handshake, Isaac swung up onto Buck and urged him toward the gate. A soldier opened the gate and saluted as he slipped outside into the blinding snow. He had thought long and hard about what would be the best way to accomplish his mission. He decided to avoid obvious trails and travel by night as much as possible. That would help keep him warm during the frigid nights, and with the Lord’s help, he could avoid confrontation with the Indians. He had left by a back gate and counted on the Sioux being occupied with celebrating their victory. The detail of men riding out to retrieve the dead would divert the Indians also.

  The blizzard intensified out on the plain with no fort walls to block the wind. Isaac’s mustache was soon coated with snow and ice, and he wished he had a full beard like many of the men wore. He had to stop often and walk his horse through the snowdrifts. Several hours from the fort, he came to a rock outcropping that offered some protection from the wind, and he decided to try to sleep there until nightfall. He and his horse were both exhausted. Leaving a robe on Buck, he pulled a buffalo robe over himself and fell into a deep sleep punctuated by nightmares of Emmie being dragged away by Sioux hordes. Her eyes were wide with terror, and she screamed his name over and over. When he awoke it was nearly dark. He ate a meal of hardtack and water, then mounted up and started out again.

  The blizzard howled around him and the temperature plummeted. Isaac knew it had to be at least twenty or thirty below zero even without the wind. He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes, and by morning he could only slump numbly in the saddle. He was so cold and weary he couldn’t think, but he forced himself to keep going. The morning only brought a lightening of the gloom as the snow continued to whirl around him. He wasn’t even sure he was going in the right direction. He had tried to follow his compass, but the numbing cold made it hard to concentrate. He saw a forlorn cluster of trees to his right and turned Buck’s head toward it. A huge snowdrift had formed around them and he thankfully slid to his feet and stumbled toward it. Out of the wind it felt almost warm. He pulled his buffalo robe about him and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  When he awoke, the moon was high in the sky and he could see the stars. The snow had quit falling, but the wind still howled. He felt warm, though, and he knew he had to get up and get moving, for he was in danger of freezing. He made himself eat a couple of the crackers he’d brought with him and fed Buck some meager provender. He knocked the ice from his horse’s eyes and tail and mounted up.

  He found it hard to stay awake as he clung to his saddle pommel. The wind cut through even his buffalo robe, and he swayed in the saddle. Hang on, he told himself. You have to get help for Emmie. He clutched the saddle pommel with both hands and fought to stay mounted. As his horse rounded a grove of trees, he lost his tenuous grip and pitched sideways from the saddle into a drift. He felt nice and warm away from the wind. I’ll just lay here for a few minutes and rest, he thought. He closed his eyes and slid into unconsciousness.

  §

  December twenty-fourth, Emmie thought as she awoke near dawn. Isaac had been gone three days. She felt an overwhelming need to pray for him. She slipped out of bed and knelt on the cold, hard floor. She shivered as the wind whistled under the door and through her flannel nightgown. If she was cold, what must Isaac be facing? God, take care of him, she prayed over and over again. Only You know where he is and what he needs.

  She was stiff and cold clear through when she finally got up from her knees. She slipped back beneath the covers for a few minutes until she heard the sentry cry, “Five o’clock and all’s well.”

  All’s well. No one really believed that. The mood at the fort had been a peculiar one the last few days. Everyone seemed on edge as though they were listening for some sound beyond the log walls of the stockade. Rand and Jake and their detachment had come back two days ago with the rest of the bodies of the slain soldiers. The Indians hadn’t bothered them at all. Rand said he wasn’t sure if they were holed up in camp because of the blizzard or simply too busy celebrating their victory.

  Jake told them that before they left to recover the bodies, Colonel Carrington had opened the magazine and cut the Boorman fuses of round case shot. He opened the boxes of ammunition and adjusted them so that by lighting a single match, the whole lot would go up. His instructions were that if the Indians attacked in overwhelming numbers, the women and children were to be put in the magazine and blown up rather than have any captured alive. Thankfully, that had not happened, but Emmie couldn’t forget that the magazine was still readied for such an eventuality.

  It had taken several days to dig the grave site in the frozen ground for the slain men. It was so cold the men could only work in fifteen-minute shifts. Joel voiced all their fears when he innocently remarked, “How come they can only work for fifteen minutes when Isaac and John are out in the wind all the time?”

  Emmie wondered the same thing. The snowstorm would subside for a few hours, then the snow would swirl down again in a blinding curtain. The soldiers had done all they could to keep a ten-foot trench dug around the stockade. If they had allowed the drifts to pile up, the Indians could have walked right over the tops of the logs in the stockade.

  Now here it is Christmas Eve, she thought as she listened to the “All’s well.” Normally they would be wrapping presents and preparing food for a feast on Christmas Day. She sighed and slipped out of bed again. She pulled on her warmest dress, a worn blue wool one, and quickly combed her hair and washed her face in the cracked bowl on the stand by her bed.

  She could try to make Christmas a little festive for Joel and Sarah, she decided. She would go to Jake’s and check on Gabrielle, then see about what she could use for a tree. There were none on the fort grounds, but maybe Joel could find her a branch or something. Joel had been staying at Jake’s for appearances’ sake, so Morning Song could take care of the baby.

  By the time Sarah and Rand came into the kitchen, Emmie had the fire going and the room was beginning to lose its chill. She looked up as Sarah sat down next to her and pulled the teapot over to pour a cup of tea. Rand sat down next to her to pull on his boots.

  “Are you all right?” she asked her friend. “You look as though you haven’t slept all night.”

  Sarah sighed. “I’m feeling a bit poorly,” she admitted. “My back hurts strangely. The pain seems to come and go.”

  Emmie narrowed her eyes and looked Sarah over. “I think perhaps Dr. Horton ought to take a look at you,” she said. “It could be the baby.”

  Rand reared his head abruptly. “The baby? It isn’t time yet.”

  “Not quite,” Emmie said. “But it’s not unusual for one to make his appearance a few weeks early.”

  “I’ll get the doc.” Rand didn’t argue any more but grabbed his greatcoat and hurried out the door.

  “I did wonder,” Sarah admitted. “But I didn’t want it to be the baby yet. I’m afraid, Emmie.” She had tears in her eyes as she looked up. “I don’t want to leave Rand and my baby. What if something goes wrong?”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Emmie scolded. “Nothing is going to go wrong. Now you go get undressed and get into bed so the doctor can check you.”

  Sarah nodded and went to the bedroom. A few minutes later Rand and Dr. Horton opened the door and hurried inside. Both were red-faced from the biting wind. Rand’s mustache and the doctor’s beard were coated with snow.

  Dr. Horton tapped on the bedroom door and went right in. Rand stared blankly at the shut door, then sank down onto a chair. “I’m so afraid, Emmie,” he said. “What if—” He broke off his words in midsentence.

  Emmie took his hand. “I’ll pray with you,” she suggested.

  Rand smiled wanly. “You are the newest Christian among us, but you somet
imes seem like the strongest. I should have thought of that myself.”

  “I don’t have anyone but the Lord,” Emmie said softly. “So He’s the only one I can turn to.”

  Rand nodded. “He’s our only rock. And He is in control.”

  They both knelt beside their chairs. “Lord,” Rand prayed. “I know we are so undeserving of Your love and care. We sometimes forget how You are always watching out for us and nothing comes to us that doesn’t pass through Your hands first. Give us strength to go through what lies before us. Give Sarah strength and courage. If the baby is to come now, guide the doctor’s hands and grant us a safe delivery both for Sarah and our baby. Be with me and Emmie that we may be a help and not a hindrance. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Emmie echoed. They got to their feet just as the doctor opened the door and came back into the kitchen.

  “The baby’s coming,” Dr. Horton said. “Unfortunately Sarah is having back labor, so it could be a while. It may help to rub her back, or she may not want you to touch her. It varies with different women. I’ll check back in a couple of hours. If the situation changes, send for me.”

  He left a small bottle of laudanum with them in case the pain got worse. When the door closed behind him, Emmie and Rand went to the bedroom.

  Sarah smiled wanly at them. “You were right,” she told Emmie.

  Emmie smiled and patted Sarah’s hand. “Everything will be fine,” she told her. “The doctor says it will be a while yet, so why don’t you try to rest while you can. We all may have a wonderful Christmas present after all.”

  “Oh, I hope it doesn’t take that long,” Sarah moaned as she burrowed deeper under the covers.

  Rand and Emmie tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind them. “I think I’ll run over and tell Jake and Joel,” Rand said. “Morning Song will want to be here, too. And we may need her.”

  Emmie nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt for Jake to keep you company.”

  Rand grimaced. “He may not be able to stand it after losing Amelia.” He went toward the door. “If Sarah wakes up and asks for me, tell her I’ll be right back.”