White Heart, Lakota Spirit

by Ginger Simpson

  “You shouldn’t punish yourself like that. It’s not good to dwell on what was.”

  Clearly, Eliza didn’t believe Fawn planned to escape.

  “I know you think you miss those people,” Eliza continued, “but you’ll get used to being with your own again. I just know it.”

  Fawn decided she’d play along and be the “rescued captive,” but when the time was right....

  * * * *

  Her stomach rumbled. Fawn laid aside the catalog and patted her hungry belly. If she hadn’t been so full from all the sweets she had devoured at the bakery, she wouldn’t have passed on supper. She slid off the bed and stood.

  “Maybe I can sneak into the kitchen and find a snack to tide me over until morning.” She peeked out the door, seeing only complete darkness in the rest of the living quarters. She picked up the lamp and ventured into the hallway. On tiptoes, she made her way to the kitchen.

  She held the lamp in the air and scanned the pantry shelves. “Oh, look!” she whispered. “Bread... I can have some with butter.”

  With a ceramic crock and small knife on the table in front of her, Fawn sat munching on her find when Colonel Jamison walked in on her. He wore a nightshirt over his trousers, but his hair was still impeccably combed. “Well, I see we had the same idea.”

  Fawn’s cheeks flamed at being caught. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission first, but all the lights were out, and I thought you were asleep.”

  The colonel pulled out a chair, sat, then leaned in. “Actually, I’m glad I found you here. I need to know if you have any relatives you would like us to contact—white relatives.”

  Fawn shook her head. “No, not anymore. My only family are Lakota.”

  His jaw visibly tightened. “Returning you to the Indians is out of the question, but I’m afraid you can’t take advantage of the government’s hospitality forever. Tomorrow, you will report to the post laundry and start to earn your keep.”

  Fawn’s bite of bread caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. “You...you mean wash clothes for the soldiers?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean. You’ll be paid a fair wage. I imagine my wife is going to insist you continue to stay here since there really isn’t any other place available right now, but that may change. Maybe after you’ve been here a while, you’ll forget your silly notions about living with savages.”

  He scraped his chair backwards and stood. “I don’t seem to be as hungry as I thought. I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  After he’d closed the bedroom door, Fawn propped her elbows on the table, rested her face in her hands, and gave thought to his words. Perhaps working in the laundry wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She wanted to get out of the house, and this might be the chance she needed to plan her escape. The news about her new job didn’t seem quite so bad.

  * * * *

  The colonel escorted Fawn to the laundry. They made polite conversation along the way, but she wasn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the offending odor that greeted her at the door. The moment she walked in, her eyes burned from the irritation. She blinked several times and wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell?”

  One nearby woman straightened from bending over a washboard. “It’s lye. You get used to it after a while.”

  The heat from the wash water had reddened the rotund little woman’s cheeks; lose wisps of dark hair, curled from the dampness, framed her face and hung into dark eyes.

  “I guess I’ll have time to do that.” Fawn grinned as she glanced at the colonel.

  Respectfully, he removed his hat and introduced them. “Thelma, this is Grace. She’s going to be helping out for a while.”

  Fawn stiffened at the mention of her Christian name but smiled. She might be Grace to them, but in her heart she refused to be anyone other than Dancing Fawn.

  Thelma wiped her red and withered hands on her apron. “Howdy. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll show you around and introduce you to the rest of the women.”

  Colonel Jamison squared his hat back on his head. “Then I’ll leave you in good hands. Grace, I’ll see you at the end of the day for supper.”

  As soon as he left, Thelma displayed a wide grin. “He sure is a nice man, ain’t he? He’s right good to us. Treats us real fair, he does.”

  Fawn nodded. “Yes, he and his wife have been very kind.” She wanted to add how much nicer he would be if he sent her back home.

  Thelma walked to aprons hanging on the wall and handed Fawn one. “You’ll be needing this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Fawn’s body screamed from hunching over a washtub for three days. She straightened and rubbed the small of her back in hopes of easing the numbing ache. It didn’t. Scanning the rows of wooden barrels, she sighed. Never had she imagined how much work was involved in washing. Sure, she had helped her mother, but that was different.

  Here, clothing soaked in several tubs, waiting to be scrubbed with soap against a washboard in another vat. More tubs held rinse water. Really soiled pieces were boiled and stirred constantly to keep them from scorching. Afterwards they were transferred to the rinse with a stick.

  Over in the corner of the room, Bethany, another worker, cooked a putrid combination of animal fat and lye together to make the harsh soap they used. After it cooked, she strained it through wood ashes and formed it into bars. The caustic lye had practically blistered Fawn’s hands.

  A separate part of the laundry housed the pressers. Here, women used flat irons heated on the stove to press the wrinkles from the soldiers’ freshly laundered uniforms. Not sure which tasks were the most strenuous and monotonous, Fawn surveyed her red and wrinkled fingers.

  She easily made friends with the other workers. Most were wives of miners, who failed to strike it rich and now needed money to survive. Fort Sully didn’t offer many options for employment other than a soldier’s pay, so usually the women were forced to work to help their families survive. Fawn felt comfortable with them. They didn’t look down their noses at her or judge her. Maybe because they didn’t have much time to talk about things except on short mid-day meal breaks.

  Of all the women, Fawn bonded with Nola. She revealed her age to be two years older than Fawn, and made everyone laugh, even when the workload seemed never-ending. She stood almost a head taller than Fawn, and her gowns hung on a willowy build. Her golden hair nearly matched Fawn’s in color.

  Fawn worked with Nola at the rinsing tubs today. Fueled by determination to find out more about her new friend, rather than making small talk, Fawn leaned in closer. “How did you come to be here?”

  “Not by luck, that’s for sure.” Her blue eyes, only a shade lighter than Fawn’s sparkled with her brief laughter.

  As she often did when faced with sadness, Nola chewed on her bottom lip. She pushed back a stray lock of hair and swallowed. “My parents died from the fever... Typhoid I think they called it. My uncle took me in and raised me. He’s a hard old bird and a bit greedy, but I guess I should be grateful. Like everyone else, he got a fever of his own—gold fever. He hasn’t had any luck finding a vein, so here I am. We do have to eat, and money doesn’t grow on trees.” Wincing, she pressed her hands to her lower back. “Boy, I sure wish it did.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how you feel. My parents are dead, too.”

  “I heard tell you were captured by Injuns. Is that so?” Nola didn’t look at her, just kept dipping clothing in the cloudy water.

  “Yes, I was. What else did you hear?”

  Nola tilted her gaze to Fawn. “That you married one of ‘em, and that’s his baby you’re a carryin’.”

  “True. I did marry an Indian. His name is Little Elk, and even though it might be hard for you to believe, I love him. I’m proud to be his wife and to be having his child.”

  Nola’s eyes widened. “Y
ou mean you gave yourself to him willingly?”

  Fawn plunged another shirt into the rinse. “At first I was angry and hated all Indians. After all, one of them killed my folks. But as time passed, I realized the one who killed my family was just a bad apple. The Lakota have been much more accepting of me than my own race would be of one of them. I want to go home to my husband and have my baby. Shouldn’t that be my choice?”

  “I reckon.”

  Turning to her friend, Fawn twisted water from the uniform and sighed. “Have you ever been in love, Nola?”

  “Naw. Ain’t ever had the time. We move around so much even if I saw someone I might be itching to meet, we’d be gone before I could introduce myself. Till I got here, I didn’t see many men my own age. There is one here I do have my eye on, Tyler... Private Tyler Kelly. He’s a good-lookin’ man. That’s how I get through all these clothes. I pretend every uniform belongs to him.”

  Fawn glanced at the stack yet to be rinsed and pointed. “I’d say your Private Kelly has too many uniforms and a pretty dirty job.”

  For once she made Nola laugh.

  * * * *

  Fawn sat on an upside down bucket and munched on the ham sandwich Eliza had sent with her. Two weeks had passed, and she hadn’t made any progress in finding a way home. Discouragement weighted her shoulders and stole her smile.

  Nola pulled a bucket up next to her. “I’m so tired I could die. At least it would be a good long rest. Ain’t had one in so long.”

  Fawn smiled. “I’m not that desperate yet.”

  Nola opened her lunch sack. “Tell me more about your husband. I want to talk about anything except laundry.”

  She took a huge bite of bread and waited.

  Fawn stared into space, her mind filled with the image of her handsome husband. “Little Elk? At first, I didn’t much like him. His friend, Black Crow, was a bad influence on him. But once Black Crow left the village, Little Elk could be himself. He taught me how to speak the language, and...” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she blotted her eyes. “He’s handsome, kind, and very excited about this baby.” She rubbed her belly. “He wants a son.”

  “He sounds very nice, although I’ve always heard that Injuns are heathens that kill and scalp people.”

  “That’s not true,” Fawn snapped. “All most want is to be left in peace to live on the lands the government promised them, like the Black Hills. But now the Lakota’s sacred mountains are overrun by those in search of gold.”

  “Like my uncle?”

  “Yes, him and hundreds more. The government lied to the Lakota and took back the land they gave in treaty. Many of the tribes have been moved to reservations with dishonest agents who steal the money meant to buy food for the people. Those who still manage to remain free are being squeezed from their land, the land they love and respect. Would you not fight for what rightfully belonged to you?”

  “I guess I would.”

  “You bet you would. What if someone came here and tried to take your lunch this minute? You’d fight because you’re hungry, and it’s yours. Well, the Lakota hunger for their freedom and to have their land back. They don’t fight without just cause.” Fawn gazed into the distance. “I just want to be back with them before the baby comes.”

  “When is the child due?” Nola asked between bites.

  “I’m not exactly sure. I’ve never done this before. I expect within two months... Maybe sooner.”

  Nola patted Fawn’s knee. “For what it’s worth, even though I’d miss you, I hope you find a way to get home.”

  Fawn rested her hand atop Nola’s. “Me too, Nola. Me too!”

  * * * *

  Fawn’s stomach had grown inches in just the past week. The bib of her apron bunched up atop her belly, and it was hard to get her arms back to tie her bow. The baby moved about more frequently, making its presence known and demanding freedom from its cramped environment. She massaged the side of her pregnant belly. “Nola, come here. I think I feel a foot.”

  She placed her hand on Fawn’s abdomen. “I think you’re right. I feel toes.”

  “I’m so tired.” Fawn sagged against the wall. “It seems like I’m up half the night using the chamber pot. I used to go to the privy, but it got to be too much. I’d be twice as tired from walking back and forth all night. At least that disgusting Private Riley hasn’t been dogging me of late.”

  Nola chuckled. “Of all the men I’ve seen around here, he’s the last one I’d want following me around.”

  “I hope you never have to get close enough to smell him.”

  “Are you kiddin’? My nose is so full of lye, I can’t smell anything anymore.”

  “Believe me, you’d smell him.”

  Thelma walked by. “Ladies, you two better get to work. You’ll end up here long after the rest of us have gone home.”

  Nola grumbled and dipped her hands back into the hot water. “Work, work, work... I do this in my sleep. It’s no wonder my hands are the color of beets. I sure wish my uncle would find that darn gold, so I could get out of here.”

  “There’s no gold involved in my wish. I just want to go home.” Fawn sighed as she picked up another pair of pants.

  * * * *

  Eliza finished drying and putting away the breakfast dishes. She turned to the table where Grace sat. “Colonel Jamison can’t accompany me to church this morning. He’s off on some silly patrol again. Would you like to join me this morning?”

  Years had passed since Fawn had stepped foot in a church. Her father had never been a religious man, so the family didn’t go. She had attended Sunday school with a friend and enjoyed it, but only for a short time when she was very young. Perhaps, church would be a welcome change of pace. “I’d love to go.”

  “Good. Let me get the family Bible, and we’ll be off.”

  “How are you doing in the laundry?” Eliza made small talk while they walked to the fort’s tiny chapel. “I hope it isn’t too tiring given your condition.”

  “It’s tiring in any condition, but I’m doing all right.”

  “You know, if I had my way, you wouldn’t have to work there at all.”

  She patted Eliza’s shoulder. “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  “You amaze me. I don’t know how you do it when you’re so close to having that baby.”

  “I don’t see that I have much choice. Do you?”

  “I guess not.” Eliza stopped and gestured toward an open door. “Here we are. Let’s find a place to sit.”

  The church was almost full, but they found two seats together, sat, and opened their hymnals. The pastor signaled the congregation to stand for the first song and instructed them to turn to page sixteen. As Fawn thumbed through her book to find her place, voices raised in harmony to sing “Amazing Grace.” She glanced up to see Eliza smiling at her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Fawn felt unusually tired. Steam from the wash tub spiraled up into her face. Overheated, she felt faint. She straightened for a moment and brushed back the wisps of damp hair that had worked loose from her bun. She heaved a loud sigh.

  Nola looked up. “Are you all right?”

  “Just feeling exhausted. Will this day ever end?”

  After glancing around, Nola leaned in closer. “Do you still want to get out of here?” she whispered.

  Fawn widened her eyes. “Of course. Why?” She kept her voice low, too.

  “I’ve talked with my uncle about helping you.”

  “Will he?” Fawn pressed her palms together and held them beneath her chin. “I’ve prayed for this moment.”

  “He thinks there’s a way to get you past the guards. Of course, it’ll cost you. You know I wouldn’t charge you anything, but, well...you understand, don’t you?”

  “Times are har
d. How much?”

  “How much do you have?”

  Fawn did a quick mental calculation. “Last time I counted I had twenty-five dollars.”

  Nola made a quick scan of the area again. “Keep it down. We have to make sure no one hears us.”

  “Do you think your Uncle will accept the money I’ve earned in exchange for his help?”

  “I’m sure that’ll be enough.”

  Her exhaustion forgotten, Fawn’s heart pounded. “How soon?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Thelma walked by carrying a new stack of dirty laundry and dumped it next to them. “I swear, I’m gonna have to separate you two,” she joked. “You’re like schoolgirls chattin’ away behind the teacher’s back. Stop the talkin’ and get back to work.”

  Fawn turned back to the washtub. “Sorry Thelma.”

  “We’ll make plans at lunchtime,” Nola whispered as soon as Thelma walked away.

  * * * *

  Nola and Fawn sat apart from the rest of the women while they ate.

  “What’s your uncle’s plan?” Fawn was so excited she talked while she chewed.

  Sitting on a bucket, Nola hunched forward. “There are so many wagons that come and go during the day the guards don’t even stop them anymore. Usually I walk out the front gate, and Uncle Pete picks me up there. But he could drive into the fort and stop in front of the laundry and pretend to be dropping off a load. If the guards are watching, they would see him near the front of the wagon, but I could quickly help you into the back and cover you with a blanket. What do you think?”

  “What about Thelma and the others?” Fawn looked over her shoulder.

  “I believe close to quittin’ time would be best. Thelma is usually busy putting everything away, and all the others are getting their things together. You and I could clean up a little earlier and be ready when Uncle Pete comes.”

  “This plan could work.” A smile crossed Fawn’s face. “By golly, it could work. I’m willing to try anything to get home.”

  “Tomorrow night?” Nola asked.