Into the Wind_A Love Story

by Jaclyn M. Hawkes

  They rocked for several more minutes before Heidi said, “Josh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for coming to talk to me tonight.”

  He stroked a calloused thumb down her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

  They finally finished the roundup, although it took two days longer than it usually did after the interruptions and because Lije kept at least two of the hands working near his house at all times instead of sorting and branding cows at the roundup. Heidi ended up taking over Mertie Mae Orland’s role as cook’s assistant beside the Orland daughters and she felt a bit sheepish to find that she truly enjoyed their company. Both girls had much more fun personalities than she remembered them having. They weren’t as accomplished of cooks as she was, but then they’d hadn’t been the only woman in the house as she had been since she was a baby.

  After three days, Doctor Newell came back out and checked on Brekka. Though she’d been hoping he’d give her permission to get up again, she suspected that when she told him she had been spotting blood ever since Luther’s attack, he would insist she stay down, and she was right. He instructed that the only thing she was to get up for was to relieve herself in the privy.

  For those first days, Brekka didn’t mind staying down in bed. She was still bruised and sore and trying to recuperate, but being stuck there became tiring in a hurry. She found herself struggling to find something to occupy her mind and her hands and felt horribly guilty for not helping out more around the ranch, not to mention having to have others care for her. Added to that, the weather turned off hot in those dog days of late June and early July. Between the heat, and the cramping in her back, Brekka sometimes felt miserable.

  She read every book in the house, and the baby had more tiny sleepers than it would need, and she’d soon tired of most everything she could think of doing while lying prone. Watching Hollyhock through the big front window was actually one of the things that saved her the most. Even on a tether, that little goat could entertain her with its funny little antics. She would buck and run around and rear up and chase any chicken or leaf that came her way. She was also a veritable watch dog about greeting people who came up the lane.

  Mertie Mae Orland was one of the people she greeted with her little bleat one morning and surprisingly, Mertie Mae came to be a saving grace for Brekka while she was stuck down. She came up the walk and hesitantly knocked on the door. Still reclining, Brekka called, “Come in.”

  The older woman entered the parlor and took Brekka’s hand and asked, “How are you doing, young lady?”

  Brekka nodded and then was surprised as she got emotional and then they both teared up for a few minutes as they said hello. There was a bond there now because of what they went through that was surprisingly strong.

  Mertie Mae sat down and as they visited, she was working at something she pulled out of her bag and Brekka had to ask her, “What is it that you have there, Sister Orland?”

  She waved a hand. “Just some tatted lace, dear. It keeps my hands busy, while I’m sitting. I’m making a lace collar. My grandmother taught me.”

  “May I look at it?”

  Mertie Mae handed her the intricately woven collar with the tiny hook attached to it and Brekka studied it. It was hundreds of tiny, fine, shiny stitches somehow woven together in a smooth, but amazingly complicated pattern. Shaking her head, she said, “My, that is so intricate! It is lovely.”

  Handing it back, Brekka sighed and said, “I wish I had something more to keep my hands busy. I’m already bored near to tears with staying down in bed.”

  Without hesitating, Mertie Mae extended the collar to her again and said, “Well, here, dear. Let me teach you how to do it. Would you like to try it? It looks more complicated than it really is. It just takes a long time to finish a piece.”

  Smiling, Brekka said wistfully, “Well, apparently I have plenty of time on my hands for now.”

  They were still at it, heads together with Brekka trying to learn to tat lace when Lije came in a couple of hours later. After that, when Brekka got so bored, she worked at the intricate tatting that was just complicated enough to make her have to truly concentrate and not think about her frustrations.

  One of her biggest frustrations was that she was going to have to miss the 4th of July celebration Lije and Heidi had been excitedly telling her about for weeks now. She was only learning about this American holiday, but it sounded like such fun that she was very disappointed to miss it.

  Not only was she going to have to miss it, but she knew Lije and some others would have to miss it as well because she knew he would never leave her here alone to go into town for a mere celebration. Since Luther’s attack, Lije had hardly left their yard, let alone the ranch. Stuck here, bored and frustrated, she struggled not to hate that Ute Indian who got to wander at will while he disrupted everyone’s lives here at the ranch.

  Often she worried about how negative she was at having to stay down in bed. At those times that she was at risk of feeling sorry for herself and wanting to mope, Lije encouraged her to remember that she was going to get a dear little baby out of this struggle. When she kept it in perspective like that, it helped the weeks go by easier.

  The one good thing she was absolutely thrilled about was that they’d gotten word her father and sister would be arriving in only a couple of weeks from Denmark. It had been more than a year since she’d seen them and she was so looking forward to it. Kristina with her spicy personality and sense of humor would certainly help keep her from getting so bored during these last weeks of her pregnancy!

  The day of their arrival finally came and Lars took Josh and two other riders and headed out to pick up her father and sister, with Lars driving the wagon and the others riding. They had to go to Monroe to get them because the stage didn’t come into Rock Creek, but they had some other equipment to pick up there as well.

  It was a long day’s ride and the stage would arrive late at night, so when Lars and the riders arrived in town at dusk, they put their horses and the wagon in the livery stable and got rooms at the hotel. Lars also paid for rooms for August and Kristina Toft and made arrangements for baths to be brought to them when they checked in, even as late as it would be. Lars had ridden that stage before and it was exhausting and dusty. The Tofts would probably appreciate a hot bath.

  Lars and Josh were waiting when the stage rolled up to the hotel at after ten p.m. and Brekka hadn’t been lying. Kristina really was even lovelier than her beautiful older sister. Lars hadn’t thought it possible, but even after a fourteen hour stage trip, Kristina was exquisite. Dusty and tired, just as he’d known she would be, but exquisite—as opposed to her father who was tall, handsome, and obviously a man of means and power. Lars was glad to see the smile lines around his eyes or he’d have worried about spending a whole day in the wagon on the way home with the man.

  Stepping forward as they climbed out of the stagecoach, Lars took off his cowboy hat and extended a hand to August Toft and said in Danish, “Welcome to Utah, sir. I’m Lars Lauritzen. I’ve come to pick you up.” To Kristina, he doffed his cowboy hat as he put it back on, offered her a hand to step down and said, “And you must be Brekka’s sister, Kristina. Welcome. May I take your bags?”

  She gracefully stepped out, her traveling dress more of a gown than a dress and gave him a smile that almost scared him and answered, “Yes, thank you. I’d would so appreciate that. They are the burgundy leather set and the two trunks.”

  Lars looked up onto the top of the stage and counted three burgundy cases and noted two good sized trunks. Okay. On second thought, he was going to need more help than just Josh. This girl had a ridiculous amount of luggage with her.

  Turning back to her, he said, “Which ones do you need for tonight? I’ll take you in and get you settled in your room and have the hotel store the rest to be loaded in the morning.”

  Nodding, she said, “Then just the smaller one.”

  An older boy came out of the hotel and approached La
rs and said, “Mr. Lars, can I help you with the bags? I’ll be ever so careful.”

  Lars had met him earlier when they’d checked in and noticed that he was slow of speech and seemed a simpleton, but was cheerful and willing and Lars put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “Yes, Ollie. We’re definitely going to need you. The lady needs that smallest reddish bag and then the other two reddish bags will come inside, as well as the two trunks. Also her father’s bags need loaded. Would you mind climbing up and handing them down to me?”

  The boy’s face split into a smile. “Surely, Mr. Lars, sir.” The boy began to awkwardly clamor up the stage and handed down the baggage.

  When it was all on the boardwalk in front of the hotel, Lars was pleasantly surprised when Kristina Toft graciously leaned down to the boy and said in Danish, “Thank you, Ollie for your help. This is quite a lot of luggage and you were a wonderful help to us. Please accept this for your efforts.”

  She held out coins, but the boy was obviously confused by her Danish. Lars translated for him at which he smiled jubilantly and took her coins and put them into his pants pocket and said, “Thank you, ma’am!” He then cheerfully picked up a bag in both hands and headed into the hotel.

  Smiling at the boy, and the fact that such a lovely girl was also apparently kind, Lars slung a trunk over his shoulder, picked up another bag and followed him into the hotel. This was turning into an intriguing trip.

  Brekka woke in the predawn and carefully got out of their bed to go get a drink. As far along as she was, it was hard to actually sleep through the night and sometimes, she just had to get up, in spite of Dr. Newell’s orders.

  As she got up, Lije sleepily asked, “You all right, Brek?”

  She patted his foot as she passed it. “Fine, thanks. Just going to get a drink. Go back to sleep, love.”

  As she came through the parlor, she glanced out the front window and even in the dim predawn light noticed that Hollyhock was in the garden, happily mowing down a row of peas. Out loud, Brekka said, “You little dickens. How did you get out this time?”

  She was making a detour to save the garden when Lije walked out in his long underwear bottoms and said, “I’ll get her. Go ahead and get your drink and lie back down.”

  He went out the front door, and she went on into the kitchen, wondering how Hollyhock had figured out how to get the cage door open. Maybe she just hadn’t locked it properly as she’d put Hollyhock to bed last night.

  She’d had her drink, and even a slice of bread and was lying on the settee waiting for Lije to come back to walk her out to the privy, but he was taking his time in the goat barn. He must have been trying to figure out how to keep Hollyhock locked in.

  She stood up and began to pace. She really needed to go out there, but even though it wasn’t really completely dark she hated to go out by herself. It made her nervous. Finally, she couldn’t wait any longer. For extra courage, she took her little derringer from the table drawer and tucked it in her nightgown pocket and rushed out. It wasn’t like she could shoot a spider or a mouse, but it was comforting. She wondered what was taking Lije.

  In the privy, she looked around, hoping there were no spiders close by. In her rush, she hadn’t brought a candle. She shook her head. It was silly to be scared, but by the time she opened the door her legs were literally shaking.

  She stepped out and closed the door and then couldn’t help the scream that escaped as White Stone stepped out from beside the door and grabbed her. Her scream was cut short by the hand he put over her mouth, and she began to fight him for all she was worth as he dragged her back into the grove of trees that grew behind the outhouse. Horrible memories rushed in as she remembered the last time he had done this to her. She thought of her fear then and his rough treatment and shuddered. She couldn’t go through that again! She was more than eight months with child. She would never survive that rough treatment again!

  He had two horses tied in the grove fitted only with Indian blankets held on by a length of twine and as they approached them, she tried to bite White Stone and fought even harder. It was no use. He shoved a foul tasting cloth into her mouth, effectively silencing her and then tied her hands with those all-too-familiar leather thongs that bit into her wrists and made her eyes water in combined pain and fear.

  This time on the horse, not only did the Indian tie the thongs on her hands to the horse’s mane, he even tied her feet to the twine that held the Indian blanket and then mounting his own horse, took her horse’s lead and headed back through the grove of trees away from the ranch buildings. As the trees thinned the brave kicked his horse into a trot and after a few more minutes into a long lope and Brekka felt utter despair. Her child would never survive a prolonged ride like this.

  Slowly, as they rode, the sky lightened and with the light, White Stone rode up the hill into the cedars and slowed their pace. That was less painful in her condition, but she was still frightened for her child. Nothing could have been further from bed rest.

  As they rode, she tried to figure out just what had happened. Hollyhock being loose and the garden gate being open were too coincidental. White Stone must have freed Hollyhock and opened the gate. The logical progression of her thoughts terrified her. Why hadn’t Lije come back from the goat barn that morning? What had the brave done to him? She knew without a doubt White Stone would have killed him if he could.

  Tears welled at her thoughts and she knew she had to stop imagining the worst of everything and start thinking of how to get away. Her life depended on it, but even more importantly, her baby’s life depended on it more.

  Surprisingly, they rode for more than three hours before she began to feel those worrisome twinges in her low back. Dr. Newell had explained to her that even though she felt it in her back, it was actually her body starting to go into labor that caused the discomfort there.

  Those first twinges brought desperate fear. It was too early! She wasn’t due for at least three more weeks! And she was literally tied onto a horse! She’d never delivered a child, but she innately knew this situation was impossible! They would both die if she went into labor like this!

  Realizing she’d begun to imagine the worst that could happen again, she took a deep breath and began to pray. God was in control. He was all powerful. She may not be able to save herself at the moment, but God could.

  Twenty minutes later, when the twinges of cramps in her back notched up to full, unmistakable labor contractions, she began to pray even more fervently. God was going to have to intervene here somehow or both she and her baby were never going to survive this.

  Heidi came riding to Lije and Brekka’s house bright and early with fresh hot cinnamon rolls she had tucked carefully into her saddlebags. She knew Brekka was starting to get discouraged about being stuck down on bed rest and she hoped the sweet rolls would cheer her up like they usually did.

  She wasn’t even to the hitch rack when she noticed the little goat Hollyhock helping herself to Brekka’s garden through the open gate. Knowing how destructive the little tyke could be, before she even went to the house, she scooped the little creature up and headed for the goat barn, cheerfully reproving her on the way, “Now, you know Lije is going to give you away, little Holly, if you don’t start behaving yourself. You adorable little one beast destruction crew. You’d better straighten up.”

  One step inside the door of the barn, Heidi gasped and dropped the little goat to rush in to where Lije’s body lay in the barn alleyway. “Lije! Lije! What happened? Lijah!” His head was lying in a dark spot that she realized was blood soaking into the barn’s dirt floor from a gash on the side of his head. She gasped again and shook Lije’s shoulder, now shouting, “Lije! Lije! Wake up! Are you okay?”

  He didn’t respond and she started to cry with her shouting as she felt for his heartbeat at his neck in a panic. “Lije! Please don’t be dead! Please be okay!” Finally finding a beat, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Oh, thank heavens.”

  Looking around, she
tried to think clearly and began to chatter to herself as she scrambled to do something—anything, “Stop the bleeding! Stop the bleeding!” She violently ripped a section from her petticoat and pressed it hard to Lije’s head, then tried to lift him to see if he was injured anywhere else, but he was too heavy.

  She needed some help! She needed to check on Brekka! Brekka! She gasped again. What if this was about Brekka?

  Leaving Lije, she raced out the door and up the lane to the house and nearly fell headlong as she took the porch steps. Inside the house, she ran into Brekka and Lije’s room, and then from room to room, screaming Brekka’s name, then finally sank to her knees in the parlor sobbing. Brekka was gone. White Stone. Brekka was gone, and Lije was hurt and the baby . . . Brekka was supposed to be down on bed rest. What was going to happen to the baby?

  She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Sweet Brekka and her tiny unborn baby were in the hands of a vicious savage. Her mind was racing with thoughts of all the terrible things that were probably happening and then one thought stood out. The three shots. She needed to let everyone know White Stone was here. Maybe he hadn’t even gotten Brekka too far away yet. Maybe they could catch them before they’d gone too far.

  Jumping up, she grabbed Lije’s rifle, went to the door and hurriedly fired off the three shots, then sprang back into action. Whoever went after Brekka needed traveling gear. And guns. Yanking open the drawer to the table where Brekka kept her derringer, she nodded her head. Good! Hopefully Brekka had it with her. She went to Lije’s gun cabinet and dug around to find his spare pistol. Bullets. And food. Matches. Lije’s bedroll. Slicker. And bandages. She mentally checked things off in her head as she gathered the pile. When she had what she felt were the necessities, she tied it all in a flour sack to stuff into saddlebags and then tried to rack her brain about what to do next.

  Try to figure out which way the Ute had taken her. For a moment she considered what the Indian would have done and then rushed out the back door. The grove of trees behind the backhouse was the closest reasonable cover to the house. She rushed into the grove, searching for broken branches or tracks. There! The ground was freshly torn up from horses being tethered. Walking further, she figured out where the tracks were heading. At least she knew the direction they had started out in!