The Clash Between the Minds

by Nann Dunne

  "No, but I'm always willing to learn."

  "Fair enough," Mel said, with a wink. "I'll teach you what I can, and you teach me what you can."

  "Me, too, Sarah," Rusty said in a rushed tone that made both Mel and Sarah glance at her. Rusty blushed and looked away.

  Chapter Nine

  "Dinner," Faith called. She stood at the partially open door and watched Benjamin and Paddy come hurtling toward her through the snow. The decision to allow Benjamin to bring the puppy home from Leah and Phillip's house had turned out to be a good one. Benjamin took diligent care of Paddy and loved to spend time frolicking with him outside. From the vigor with which Paddy joined in playing with Benjamin, he obviously loved those times, too.

  They ran into the house, and Faith gave a little shiver and closed the door. She'd be glad when warm weather returned. This winter seemed colder than ever to her. That thought gave her pause. She acknowledged that a big part of that cold was the absence of Sarah, not only from her bed, but also from her company. As reserved as Sarah tended to be with most other people, she always exuded a warmth toward her that Faith basked in.

  Paddy shook himself, showering the area with bits of snow. Faith grabbed the broom and swept the snow onto a dustpan as Benjamin doffed his coat, hat, and scarf and toweled Paddy dry. He washed his hands at the sink pump and sat at the table where Faith had set out bowls of soup and bread. She had given Paddy the soup bone with bits of meat still clinging to it. He discovered it almost at once, and he was doing his best to chomp it clean. Faith tossed the snow outside and joined Benjamin at the table.

  "I'm sorry Paddy made a mess, Mama."

  "Maybe you can teach him to lick up the snow."

  Benjamin grinned. "That sounds like something Aunt Sarah would say." His grin immediately disappeared, replaced by a thoughtful expression. He buttered a piece of bread, dipped it into his soup, and ate some.

  "Mama, when is Aunt Sarah coming back?"

  Faith dabbed at a drop of soup on her lips with a cotton napkin. "I think she plans to come back when school's out."

  "Can she move back in with us?"

  "No, she can't. I explained the rule to you. We have to live here by ourselves." Faith had finished about half of her soup. She laid her spoon down and pushed the bowl away. Benjamin's words raised questions that had plagued her for a long time. How would Sarah feel when she returned? She had carried a lot of anger with her when she left. Her emotionless letters, which only described where she'd been, hadn't given Faith a clue about whether that had changed. Faith wasn't even sure that Sarah would return. What if she didn't?

  Benjamin finished his soup, and Faith rose to get him a glass of milk. "Where will we live when she comes back?" he asked. "Will we all go back home?"

  Faith poured the milk and put the jug back in the icebox. Back home? Would Phillip and Leah really relinquish the house? She and Benjamin couldn't live here in Bonneforte with Sarah unless Faith stopped teaching. She couldn't see herself doing that. Besides, why should she give it up? Sarah wouldn't even agree to stop dressing like a man. "I don't know." She put the glass on the table and sat back down. "We can decide that when Aunt Sarah returns."

  Benjamin circled the glass with both hands and sat brooding. Faith got up and cleared the table. "Mama," he said, "Dr. Litchfield comes over here a lot."

  "Once a week. Sometimes twice. Does that bother you?"

  Benjamin shrugged. "I don't know."

  Faith read the shrug to mean it did bother him. "Do you like him?" Joel had gone out of his way to get close to Benjamin. Once he learned that Benjamin was interested in the practice of medicine, they usually spent several minutes talking about the types of cases Joel handled. He even seemed to enjoy playing with Paddy, tossing a ball or a stick for Paddy to fetch.

  "He's all right, I guess." Benjamin got up and put his empty glass on the counter.

  "What would you think..." Should she even ask him this? Yes, she might as well find out his thoughts. "What would you think about me marrying him?"

  Benjamin turned toward her, looking shocked. "Marrying him? But what about Aunt Sarah?"

  "It's just a thought. He's asked me to marry him, but I haven't given him an answer." She laid her hand on Benjamin's arm as he walked by her chair. "Don't you think life would be a lot easier for both of us if I did marry him? We'd fit in with everybody else, and you'd have a man to look up to like a father."

  Benjamin jerked his arm away. "No! I don't need a father, and I don't care about fitting in with anyone. Aunt Sarah treats me better than lots of fathers treat their kids."

  That was true, Faith conceded. "Please don't get upset. Nothing's settled."

  Benjamin got his coat, and Paddy jumped up and joined him. "I'm going to ride Drummer for a while."

  He put on his coat and scarf and reached for his hat. "Mama, don't marry Dr. Litchfield. You don't care for him like you do Aunt Sarah."

  His remark surprised Faith. "You can't know how I feel about him."

  "I know you don't look at him the way you look at Aunt Sarah. And you know what? He doesn't look at you like Aunt Sarah does."

  "I'll think about what you’ve said, Benjamin. Like I mentioned, nothing's decided yet." Faith reached down and gave Paddy a pat. "You're a pretty boy, Paddy." She straightened up and saw a brief grin on Benjamin's face. "I'm glad you're smiling," she said.

  "I was thinking about something Aunt Leah said about Paddy."

  "What was that?"

  "She said she suspected Aunt Sarah picked Paddy because his coat almost matched the color of your hair."

  Faith sighed inwardly. Sarah always had loved her hair. She leaned over and pulled one of her curls down next to Paddy, who was jumping against her. She laughed. "We really are a close match, aren't we, boy?" She straightened up. "Be back by sundown, Benjamin, as usual."

  "I will, Mama." When Benjamin and Paddy went out, some cold air came in. Faith shivered again. She recalled her thoughts about Sarah warming a room just with her presence. Did Joel warm a room with his?

  Evening approached in the Wyoming hills, and they sat around the fireplace talking. "Rusty, where did you get your name?" Sarah asked.

  Rusty lifted a hand from her knitting and pointed her thumb toward Mel. "From my brother. My name's really Ruth. When we were kids, Mel said I must be full of scrap iron. He said I was rusting, and it showed in my hair. He started calling me Rusty just to torment me, but I kind of liked it, and it stuck." She cocked her head, just as Faith often did, and Sarah's heart lurched. "What about your name? You said something more than just Sarah."

  "Sarah-Bren. I was named for my grandmother, Sarah, and my grandfather, Brendan, on my father's side."

  "What name did you use in the war? Couldn't be Sarah."

  "I went by Bren Cordell. No one ever questioned it."

  "You were in the war?" Mel looked at her curiously.

  "I was a scout."

  "Which side?"

  "I worked for the Union." No sense in saying she was a spy attached to the Confederate Army, Sarah thought. Some people didn't take too well to spies.

  "Bluebelly, huh?" He chuckled. "That's what the Rebs called us. I was Union, too. Ohio." He hesitated. "That where you got the scars?"

  "Yes."

  Mel examined her with a thoughtful expression. "Looks like a point-blank shot to me. You was damned lucky."

  Sarah just nodded, and the conversation died. She wished Mel hadn't asked her about the scars. Usually, she could divorce herself from the answers to such questions, but lately, for some reason, she hadn't been able to. Too much emotional upheaval going on in her life right now, maybe. Her thoughts hurtled back to that terrible day. Staked to the ground. Stripped. Viciously assaulted. Shot and left for dead. Staggering to Leah for help. Horrifying visions tumbled through her head, over and over.

  She jerked in startlement when Mel rose and stretched. "Time for rest, ladies."

  "Rusty," Sarah said, recovering, "I'll take your place out here
on the sofa. I don't want to push you out of your own bed."

  "No, no," Rusty said. "You're too tall for the sofa. You take the bed, and I'll sleep here."

  "That's kind of you, but I'd feel really uncomfortable doing that. I've slept in a lot worse places than the sofa."

  "You're both women," Mel said. "Why not share the bed?"

  Sarah switched her gaze from him to Rusty, who looked as shocked as Sarah felt. "I don't think so," she said. "I don't share a bed with strangers, and I'd advise Rusty not to either."

  "Sorry," Mel said, but from the smile on his face, he didn't look sorry. "I just know it gets mighty cold at night. A warm body would sure come in handy to keep the chill away." He gave Sarah a mischievous grin. "I'd be willing to share my bed."

  Sarah laughed. "Best look elsewhere, Mel. I'm grateful for your help, but not that grateful."

  "Behave yourself, Mel Gunther." Rusty stood and glanced at Sarah. "I'll get bedclothes for you."

  "No need," Sarah said. "I can use my bedroll. I have a nightshirt and blankets in it."

  "All right. I'll get you a pillow." She went into her bedroom and returned with a pillow and two blankets. "Mel, hang these blankets in the corner." She put the pillow on one end of the sofa and pointed to a spot next to the fireplace. "Sarah can use it to change clothes, and I'll put the extra slop jar in there, too."

  Sarah touched her fingers to her forehead in a salute of thanks.

  "All the comforts of home. I appreciate it."

  Mel screwed several hooks into the ceiling and attached the blankets to them. Rusty went to a small wall closet and brought out a chamber pot and a stack of catalog paper that she put inside the nook the blankets fashioned.

  "I'll see you ladies in the morning," Mel said and went into his room.

  "Good night," both women said.

  "And good night to you, Sarah." Rusty moved toward her room. "We eat breakfast at first light."

  "Fine. Good night." Sarah fetched her bedroll from where it leaned against the wall. She opened it and laid two blankets on the sofa. Before changing her clothes, she performed the ritual of caressing the lock of Faith's hair she carried. She changed into her nightshirt in the nook and removed the rawhide tie from her hair and stuck it into one of the pockets of the trousers she had just removed. She turned down the oil lamp on the nearby table and slipped under the covers. She lay there awhile thinking of Faith, as she did every night, wondering what she was doing. Several times she had wavered over whether she should go back and find out exactly how Faith felt. Now that decision had been taken out of her hands. According to Mel, they could be snowed in for months.

  She hoped with all her heart that Faith was alone and as lonesome as she was. To consider anything else was unbearable.

  Benjamin set a short log on the stump, lifted the ax, and slammed it through the log. As he reached for another, Faith gathered the chunks. She settled them onto the pile that had lowered precipitously through the cold months. They had alternated the chopping for three hours, and the log pile now stood shoulder high.

  "I think that should be enough for a while," Faith said.

  "Put the next ones in the basket, Mama, and I'll carry them inside."

  Faith stood up straight and moved her shoulders before resuming her task. "I didn't realize chopping logs was so hard or took so much time."

  "Aunt Sarah did most of the chopping. She's a lot faster than we are." They worked silently for a time. "Mama," Benjamin said, "how did you get Aunt Sarah to leave? Was she upset about it?"

  "Yes, she was upset, but the idea was her own. She thought we'd be safer if she left. I think she plans to come back when school's out. She's hunting for a spot we might like to live in."

  "Do you want to leave here, Mama?"

  "Not really. I like it here. I enjoy teaching at the school. Next year, you'll be in high school, and the one in Cape Girardeau has a good reputation."

  "I wish we could stay, too." Benjamin sounded wistful. "I wish the Ku Klux Klan had never showed up here."

  "I do, too. You know the bill that's before Congress about civil rights?" Faith had been teaching about it in school.

  "Yes, ma'am." Benjamin put another log on the stump.

  "I just read in the newspaper that some people are calling it the Ku Klux Klan Act. They think it will get rid of the Klan."

  "I hope it will." Benjamin struck the log with a thunk that accompanied his emphasis on the word "hope."

  "Unfortunately, that won't change what's already happened— Aunt Sarah shooting Ed Putnam and the boys kidnapping you two."

  Benjamin finished chopping and helped Faith gather the last chunks. "Mama, I have something to tell you."

  His voice sounded strange, and Faith stopped with the last chunk in her hand. "What?" She looked at him, but he turned his gaze away.

  "Aunt Sarah and I didn't tell you the whole truth about Mr. Putnam."

  Faith bristled. "What do you mean, 'the whole truth'?"

  Benjamin looked back at her and squared his shoulders. "Aunt Sarah didn't shoot Mr. Putnam. Daniel did."

  Faith hurled the last chunk at the basket so hard that it bounced out. "She lied to me? Sarah lied to me?"

  Benjamin's words came in a rush. "She didn't want to. She said she'd never lied to you before, and I could tell she felt bad about it. But if people knew that Daniel had hurt Mr. Putnam, they'd hunt him down and kill him. Maybe kill the whole family. But they're gone now, so I think it's all right to tell you." His voice caught as he took a breath. "Aunt Sarah said she would let everyone think she did it, and she made us promise not to tell anyone anything different. Even you and Daniel's mama, because if people found out about it, you could get hurt, too. I didn't want you to get hurt, Mama. Please don't be mad."

  Benjamin looked so forlorn. Faith thought about what he had said, and her anger cooled. She put her arms around him. "I'm not mad. I understand. Aunt Sarah did the right thing."

  She also understood she'd been blaming Sarah for something she didn't do. Faith had added her condemnation to everyone else's.

  Oh, Sarah, no wonder you were so angry. I should have stood beside you even though we disagreed.

  After a breakfast of smoked venison strips, porridge, and coffee, Mel and Sarah bundled up. "Here," Rusty said. She lifted a long piece of cotton material from one of the hooks. "Working the mine is dusty. You'll need to put this scarf across your nose and mouth."

  "Thanks." Sarah bent her head and let Rusty loop the material around her neck and tuck it into her coat.

  "There you go." Rusty gave her chest a pat and blushed when she looked up and her gaze met Sarah's. For once, Rusty said nothing, just stepped back and let Sarah pass her.

  When the front door wouldn't budge, Mel and Sarah crawled out the window. Drifts of thigh-high snow covered everything. They stood for a moment, just looking around. Most of the horizon was obscured by what looked like a mixture of blue spruce and pine trees.

  Sarah took a deep breath of fresh air. "At least the snow stopped."

  "For now." Mel pointed to the heavy sky. "There's more to come."

  Sarah shaded her eyes with her hand and gazed at the dark gray clouds. "Sure looks that way." She found the absolute quiet unusual. They were surrounded by a pine forest, but it was different from the woods she was used to.

  "I left a shovel near the door." Mel struggled confidently to the depression that marked the door and pulled the shovel out of the mound covering it.

  "Should've set two out, and we both could shovel," Sarah said.

  "We'll take turns." Mel started clearing snow from the door. "It'll go faster that way. One shovels, one rests."

  "Quiet here," Sarah said. "No animals, no gurgling streams, not even birds."

  "The blizzard did that. The animals and birds will be moving around soon." Mel stopped shoveling and stood up straight. "See that depression over there? A small river flows through this canyon. It's a feeder to the Platte, but it doesn't gurgle when it's frozen.
We cut our ice from it."

  Sarah estimated the river was about a hundred yards away. "You fish it?"

  "Yep. Got a bunch of smoked pike and buffalo fish laid away."

  "We had venison for breakfast. What other animals do you hunt?"

  "Bear, elk, antelope, rabbit up here in the mountains. Plenty of buffalo on the plains, but I usually only take one a year. Have to haul it back here, butcher it, smoke the meat, and tan the hide. I'm mostly happy with what I can hunt up here." Mel went back to shoveling. He had cleared the door and began to extend the path toward the barn.

  "Once the snow starts," he said, "it pretty much keeps coming through the winter. We don't have as much here in the canyon, but out past here, there's more than we can get through. We'll be snowed in for months."

  Sarah waved toward the horizon. "Can't get out with snowshoes?"

  Mel barked a laugh. "Maybe, but it's a far piece to travel, and risky. Probably take several days, maybe a week, and there's always the danger of getting caught in a blizzard or even avalanches."

  "So you don't recommend it?"

  Mel seemed to mull that over, then shook his head no. "Not for one person, traveling alone. Especially with a bum leg. You'd most likely never make it."

  Well, it didn't take long for Rusty to fill him in about her leg. She wondered what else they said about her.

  "We've stocked up on everything we need. Best to stay right here until the spring thaw."

  "And when does that come?"

  "April, usually. Not much more snow, and what's here starts to melt. Even the trees perk up."

  After shoveling more than halfway to the barn, he straightened up and wiped his brow with his coat sleeve. "Time to switch." He handed the shovel to Sarah, and she began shoveling at a regular pace.

  The activity warmed her, and before long, she was sweating. Eventually she got to the barn. She widened the path to make room for the door to open and set the shovel against the barn wall.

  Mel grabbed the door handle and opened it. "Step inside and take a rest."