Red Bird

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by Stephanie Grace Whitson


  Dr. Gilbert was impressed. “We have a doting mother and a healthy child, Miss Biddle. I’d say you performed admirably.” Proceeding to the bedroom, Dr. Gilbert was greeted by one of the promised moments that had led him to medical school—the view of a tired mother and an ecstatic father looking at the wonder of their love come to life.

  After a thorough examination of both mother and child, Dr. Gilbert reassured Sarah Biddle that she had, indeed, performed admirably. “Miss Biddle,” he said as he left later that day, “I don’t know what your plans are for the future, but you would make a very good nurse. Lincoln is growing so rapidly with new families, I have often wished for someone reliable I could suggest when there is need for nursing care. If you are in the least interested, please come by the office when you return to Lincoln. I’d like to discuss it with you.” Dr. Gilbert didn’t wait for Sarah to reply before he urged his mare to a trot and headed for Lincoln.

  Sarah Biddle remained on the Callaway farm for several days, caring for LisBeth and J. W. Callaway, cooking and cleaning. She did not immediately realize what her service to her friend was accomplishing in her own life until she returned to Lincoln. When Sarah drove into Lincoln, she turned Sadie east and then north along a familiar street, and finally to where a pair of massive iron gates were set into a high brick wall. Lingering for a moment before the iron gates, Sarah pondered the reality of losing access to the mansion on the other side of the wall. She was struck with the realization that, while sadness lingered, the sharpness of the pain had receded. In its place was the knowledge that in recent weeks she had participated in two wondrous events—I helped Mother Braddock leave this world, and then I helped J. W. Callaway come into it. Sarah looked up at the iron gates and smiled. What I learned caring for Mother Braddock, losing David, and birthing J. W., I can use. I can use it all to build a future for Tom and me.

  The next morning, Sarah Biddle paid a visit to Dr. Miles Gilbert.

  Chapter 19

  Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counsellors they are established.

  Proverbs 15:22

  I think you should go,” Everett Higgenbottom said definitively. He was sitting across the table from Carrie Brown in the dining room at the Hathaway House Hotel. Carrie had just shared a letter from Charity Bond inviting Carrie to join her at the Dakota Missions Conference.

  Carrie looked surprised. “You want me to go that far away?”

  “Of course I, personally, don’t like the idea of your traipsing halfway across the country to some church conference, but it’s definitely in your best interest to go.” Everett tapped the table with one slender index finger as he spoke. “Listen, Carrie, I’m your friend—right?”

  “Everett, you’ve been one of the best friends I could ever have.”

  “You admitted to me that this notion of yours about your future had some sort of, well, setback.”

  Carrie pursed her lips. “What I said, was that you were right about my perception of Soaring Eagle. I was living a fairy tale. Now I’ve accepted that he’s not going to be traveling around the east giving lectures.” Carrie added earnestly, “That doesn’t change my feelings for him. If anything, knowing his future more definitely has matured my feelings, made me accept a more realistic view.”

  Everett interrupted her. “Realistic. Right. Listen, Carrie, you haven’t the slightest notion of what it’s like on the frontier.” Carrie took a breath as if to interrupt and Everett hurried on. “Now wait a minute. I know you grew up at Santee. I also know it was pretty well established before your mother went to live there. I don’t know very much about missionary work, but it’s pretty obvious that living at an established mission school and heading into uncharted territory to start a new work are two different things. How can you find out if you want to do that unless you attend this conference out west? At least you’ll get to meet some of the people involved in the work. So, I say go with Charity Bond as she’s asked, and learn everything you can.”

  Everett paused for a moment. “There’s something else.”

  “Go on, Everett, say it all.”

  “I’m not much of a Christian, but aren’t missionaries supposed to receive some sort of ‘call’ or something? I mean, you’re going about this thing as if it’s a profession you can select.”

  Carrie squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “Everett, I am a Christian. Am I such a poor one that you don’t think I can do missionary work?”

  Everett cleared his throat. “Carrie, you’re a great girl.” He grinned. “Why do you think I’ve followed you all the way to Nebraska and spent the last few years trying to get you to fall in love with me?” He paused. “You do everything right. You’re kind, and honest, and all the things a Christian is supposed to be. There’s just—” Everett hesitated.

  “Just what, Everett?”

  “Listen. I went to a revival meeting last week over at the Methodist church with Myrtle Greer. It was great. There was a passion about that evangelist that I just can’t describe. From what you’ve said, Charity Bond has that for working with those children. Soaring Eagle has it, too, or he wouldn’t be turning his back on good hotels and the lecture circuit to head west to log cabins and poverty. But you, Carrie, you’re different. You’re approach to this thing is pretty clinical. It’s as if your mapping out a strategy for investing in land. Buy this property. Build this house. Marry this man. But then what? What if that all happens? Then you have to live the life of a missionary. It seems to me, that to live that life a person needs a call—a passion.” Everett leaned back against his chair. “I’m sorry, but you just don’t have it for the work.” He sighed. “So, I think you need to go back up there, go with Charity, and see what it’s like.” His voice was gentle as he added, “I care about you. I don’t want you to land a dream and then find out it’s not what you wanted after all.”

  Carrie was quiet for a while, considering. “Everett, I’m not even sure it would ever happen. It’s been a long time since that little girl fantasy began. Soaring Eagle has grown and changed since I first saw him. I’m beginning to think he’ll never see me as anything but ‘little Carrie Brown.’ ”

  Everett grew suddenly earnest. “Listen to me, Carrie. I’m just a lowly university student, but I’ll tell you something. I’m smart enough to know that when a girl like you pays attention to a man, he’s going to notice. And if Soaring Eagle has a chance at you and doesn’t take it, he’s a fool.”

  Carrie laughed and feigned a bow. “Thank you very much, Mr. Higgenbottom!”

  “Laugh all you want. You can bet Soaring Eagle knows how you feel. In St. Louis you practically screamed it at him every time you looked at him.”

  “Then why didn’t he—”

  “Carrie, no man worth anything would make promises to a girl like you without a plan for how he could support you. And Soaring Eagle isn’t exactly your average college graduate out looking for a job. Give the gentleman some credit. Give him some time. Give yourself some time. Go with Charity Bond and see what happens. You’ll either come back more determined than ever, or—” Everett grinned mischievously, “you’ll come to your senses and realize that life with somebody like Everett Higgenbottom looks suddenly very appealing.”

  “You seem very willing to be rid of me.” Carrie pretended to be hurt.

  Everett was serious. “Carrie, I want you to be happy. That’s all. I think we could be happy—you and me. But not if you take me because you gave up on something you think is better. I don’t want a wife who spends her days wishing she was somewhere else. I’m not handsome or glamorous, but but I’m not stupid, either. I’m going to make a good lawyer. You could do a lot worse than marrying me. I’ll wait. I still have three years at the university ahead of me. I’m not going anywhere. And you’ll be back in the fall.” Everett scooted his chair back and said casually, “I told Myrtle I’d be her escort tonight. Oscar Wilde is lecturing at the Opera House. Want to come along?”

  Carrie shook her head. “No, t
hanks, Everett; I’d better write Grandmother and Grandfather about this and see what Mrs. Hathaway says.”

  Lucy and Walter Jennings wrote Carrie expressing doubts about her traveling so far from Lincoln. Knowing about Lucy’s and Walter’s doubts, Augusta Hathaway hesitated to encourage Carrie. But when LisBeth and Jim Callaway rode in to Lincoln to present J.W. to every available audience, Carrie gained support for her plan.

  Jim stopped at Joseph Freeman’s livery to unhitch his team for the day. Joseph emerged from his little room at the back of the livery, moving slowly. In spite of his advancing age, however, his voice was youthful as he boomed, “Finally! Let me get a look at that boy! My, my.” His face wreathed in smiles, Joseph grabbed J.W., holding him close. “Now, LisBeth, you just go on in to Augusta and tell her I’ll have this here boy in in a bit. His papa and me are gonna show him around the livery. Can’t get too early a start on knowin’ horseflesh.”

  LisBeth laughed. “Spoil him as much as you want. Then his daddy can sit up with him all night!” Kissing Jim on the cheek, LisBeth made her way down the newly constructed sidewalk towards the Hathaway House. LisBeth entered by the kitchen door, happy to find Sarah Biddle, her sleeves rolled up, her thin arms handling an enormous lump of dough.

  “Where’s that boy?” Sarah asked.

  “In the livery getting his first lecture on horseflesh.” LisBeth grinned and changed the subject. “What about it, Sarah, are you going to listen to Dr. Gilbert? Are you going to nursing school?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’ve Tom to get through school, LisBeth. Then I’ll think on it. In the meantime,” she said happily, “I’m helping Dr. Gilbert when there’s a case that needs in-home care. In fact, I just got back from a week across town with a new mother—of twins!”

  “It’s good to see you smile, Sarah. You’ve found the remedy for grief long before I did when Mac passed on.” LisBeth took off her bonnet and smoothed her hair. “Well, are you joining Aunt Augusta and me for tea?”

  “As soon as this bread is ready for rising. Go on in. Tell Aunt Augusta I’ll be there directly. She’s in a tizzy, LisBeth. Maybe you can settle her.”

  “About what?”

  “Let her tell you about it. I’ll be interested to hear what you think.”

  LisBeth frowned slightly and headed through the kitchen, into the front lobby, and on to Augusta’s apartment. The two women were barely seated before Augusta said with concern, “LisBeth, Charity Bond has written Carrie. The Dakota churches are having their annual conference in Yankton in a few weeks. Charity has asked Carrie to go along. There’s some committee from Boston to visit, and according to Charity, it promises to be an excellent week with all the native pastors, missionaries, teachers, helpers—everyone who is involved in the Dakota mission. If things go as planned, after the conference Charity will be heading up to the Cheyenne River territory to help get the work started there. She’s going with James and Martha Red Wing. Charity wants Carrie to go along and help with the new work. They would be gone for weeks.”

  LisBeth didn’t hesitate. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for her.”

  Augusta nodded. “Perhaps. However, there is a bit of a problem. Carrie has written to her grandparents and they are very much against it.”

  “And you’re caught in the middle.”

  “In a manner of speaking, I am.” Sarah slipped in while Augusta explained. “The Jenningses are counting on me to tell Carrie I can’t do without her here at the hotel. They want her to finish her education and—”

  “Forget the notion of missionary work,” LisBeth finished the sentence for Augusta. A few moments of silence ensued before LisBeth spoke up. “Aunt Augusta, do you remember the night Agnes Bond charged into the kitchen demanding that we talk Charity out of being a matron at Santee?”

  Augusta nodded.

  “Well, you’re in the same spot now.” LisBeth poured herself a cup of tea. “You’re being asked to talk someone out of something they want to do. Carrie Brown has said she wanted to come back to Nebraska and work with the Indians since she was a little girl. She’s the same age Charity Bond was when she determined to serve the Lord in Santee. She’s the same age I was when I married Mac and headed out west as a military bride. I think it is time we all stopped worrying so much about protecting ‘little Carrie Brown’ and let her find her own way in life. She’s not going alone. Charity will be there. It’s only a church conference. She’ll be in the very environment she’s longed to be part of. Soaring Eagle will be there. He’d never let anything happen to Carrie.” When Augusta was silent, LisBeth stopped short.

  “Is that the problem, then?”

  Augusta Hathaway poured her tea and said carefully, “I’ve a responsibility to the Jenningses, LisBeth. I promised them I would be a proper guardian.”

  “You are a proper guardian. Carrie’s blossomed living here and going to the university. She’s matured and learned, and no doubt had a great deal of fun in the process. It’s time to let her try out her wings. This is the perfect opportunity for her to see what it’s like to be part of the mission. Let her go, Aunt Augusta. The Jenningses need to come to terms with the fact that their ‘little Carrie’ is very nearly a grown woman with a very distinct will of her own.”

  LisBeth grinned. “If you’re concerned about something, be concerned for Soaring Eagle. I can’t imagine how he’s going to handle Carrie when she’s on his home ground. It was difficult enough when they were in St. Louis.”

  Augusta looked shocked. “Relax, Aunt Augusta,” LisBeth waved her hand in the air and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said that. All I mean is, I think we should all stop trying to interfere. The Lord has His will for Carrie and Soaring Eagle. Mama would be horrified that we are even thinking of trying to manipulate things. I think we should support Carrie in this and pray that God will lead.”

  LisBeth turned abruptly to Sarah. “What about you, Sarah? What do you think?”

  Sarah thought for a long time before answering. “I think that each of us here knows that God’s will usually leads us into some places we never expected. But He does it for our own good. And I agree with LisBeth. Carrie has said that she has a dream of working among the Indians.” Sarah looked up and her cheeks colored a little. “That dream also includes someone we all know. Both of these people are people we feel deserve our trust. We have no right to try to decide what is best for these people or to try to determine what will happen. We must pray diligently for God’s will for Carrie . . . and this other person.”

  Augusta sighed with relief and interjected, “And help Carrie pack?” When Sarah and LisBeth both nodded, Augusta clapped her hands. “Praise be. Just what I thought you’d both say. Now, would either of you care to volunteer to write the Jennings?”

  Chapter 20

  The beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water: therefore leave off contention, before it be meddled with.

  Proverbs 17:14

  The Annual Conference of the Dakota Mission will take place at Yankton Agency, Dakota Territory, June 13–18, 1884. Julia Woodward read the headline in the Word Carrier as the train bearing the Boston Committee traveled west. Its object is to advance the cause of Christ by stimulating native workers and increasing their knowledge, piety, and efficiency. The schedule:

  Friday, 3 p.m.

  Opening sermon by Rev. John Thundercloud

  Presentation of topics

  Organization of conference

  Saturday, 10 a.m.

  Subject: “Pastoral Support”

  3 p.m.

  Subject: “Pastoral Visitation”

  Sabbath, 9 a.m.

  Model Bible Class

  Monday, 10 a.m.

  Subject: “Vernacular Teaching”

  3 p.m.

  Subject: “Iapi Oaye”

  Reports from the committees and general business

  7 p.m.

  Closing sermon by pastoral intern Jeremiah King

  The Dakota Women’s Board will
also meet during the conference. A separate schedule will be available after the opening sermon.

  Julia’s interest in the remainder of the Word Carrier faded when her eyes read the name of the speaker for the closing sermon. She looked at her brother and Reverend and Mrs. Johnson. They were involved in their own reading material. Only R. J. Painter looked up when Julia folded the paper and laid it in her lap.

  “Do you mind, Miss Woodward,” Painter asked, indicating the newspaper.

  “Not in the least, Mr. Painter.” Julia handed it to him.

  R. J. Painter casually opened the Word Carrier and began to read the back page, wondering why the announcement of a missions conference would make Miss Julia Woodward’s lovely face take on new color.

  “Welcome to Santee, ladies and gentlemen.” Dr. Alfred and Mrs. Mary Riggs stepped across the porch of their home towards the carriages that had borne the Visiting Committee from Boston and journalist R. J. Painter to Santee. “Mrs. Riggs has prepared refreshment for you. Please, come and sit down.” The visitors stepped onto the porch, grateful for both the shade and the tall glasses of water Mary Riggs quickly brought outside.

  As soon as the visitors had settled into the chairs Alfred and Mary had dragged out of their dining room earlier that day, R. J. Painter began asking questions. Dr. Riggs explained, “Mrs. Riggs and I arrived in ’69. Along with

  James and Martha Red Wing, we erected a log cabin and a school. God has blessed us.”

  Dr. Johnson nodded appreciatively. “You have created a village, Dr. Riggs.”

  “The larger building is, of course, the school. Dakota Home, over there,” Dr. Riggs pointed towards the east, “is our residence hall for girls. Birds’ Nest, just a few rods farther east, is for the younger girls. You can also see a new building just begun for smaller boys. We’ve added two wings to the school and a chapel and workshop. The smaller buildings are the print shop, blacksmith shop, and cobbler shop. We are trying to teach our students useful manual skills.”

 

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