In the Face of Danger

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In the Face of Danger Page 3

by Joan Lowery Nixon


  The Indians made no sign they had heard, but Ben handed the reins to Emma, then jumped from the seat and walked to the rear of the wagon. Megan turned to watch him open the hamper Mrs. Parson had packed for them and wrap half the food in a bleached sack.

  Solemnly the Indian woman stepped forward and took it. The Indian on horseback waited until Ben had climbed back into the wagon, then gave a single nod of his head.

  He guided his horse to the head of his group, and the others followed behind him.

  Clucking at Jay and Jimbo, Ben gave the reins a flip, and they moved on. Megan twisted to glance back, wondering if the Indian girl would turn to look at her, too, but the Indians went on their way as though the meeting hadn't taken place.

  "Where did they come from?" Megan whispered, even though she knew the Indians were now too far away to hear her question.

  "If they were Kaws, they may have come from Council Grove, where the government has put them on a tract of land. Of course they could have been Osage, too. Kaws and Osage look alike. They're taller and better formed than the people in some of the other tribes."

  "Other tribes? How many are there?"

  "In the Kansas territory? Let's see, there's Pawnee, Cherokee, Wichita—" He broke off as he looked down at her. "Don't look so worried, Megan. As I said before, the Indians are people like us. Mostly, we try to get along with each other."

  Megan thought again about the girl with the black eyes. "I'm glad you gave them something to eat," she said.

  "Speaking of something to eat," Emma announced, "the sun's high, and I'm hungry. I'm sure Megan is, too."

  "We're not far from home. Sure you don't want to just keep going?" Megan saw the twinkle in Ben's eyes. He liked to tease, the way Da had. Megan well remembered the twitch of a smile on Da's face and the way his eyes had sparkled with mischief.

  Ben guided the wagon off the road, and the three of them soon demolished the rest of the cold meat and bread. As he closed the hamper, Ben glanced sideways

  at Emma, ducking his head a little. "Nelda had put in three apples/' he said. '*! gave them to the Indians."

  Megan thought of the wonderful tartness of an apple, and she could almost feel the spurt of juice in her mouth. She pictured the Indian girl eating her apple and knew she should feel generous about giving and sharing, but she didn't. She wished that Ben had kept the apples.

  Emma, however, simply said, "Nelda packed more food than we needed." Ben rested a hand on her shoulder, and the look that passed between them revealed their closeness and contentment with each other. As Emma began to rearrange the hamper and the bundles around it into place again, she sighed. *Times have been harder for Nelda and Will than for us, and they could little spare all this food."

  Ben patted his stomach. "It went to a good cause."

  Emma smiled. "We'll make it up to them when they come at Christmastime."

  Megan walked a few steps into the long grass and stared out over the low hills, the noonday sun warm on her back. She breathed in deeply the pleasant, sour-sweet fragrance of the stems crushed under her feet and realized with surprise that already she felt a part of this glowing landscape. She wanted to race across the prairie and fling herself facedown, burrowing into the grasses, hugging the earth from which they grew.

  "This is the prairie's golden time," Emma said beside her. "Later on, in winter, the grass will be dried and blackened, but in the spring the new grass will grow and the hills will turn green. There's wild indigo and blue-stem. And after that there's bird's-foot violets, prairie roses, daisies, and purple milkweed. And the birds!" She laughed. "They start singing at sunrise, and after the sun has gone down you'll often hear the mockingbird still

  trilling, as though the day hadn't been long enough to hold his song."

  "You love the prairie," Megan said.

  "Yes, I do," Emma answered.

  "Did you ever live in a city?"

  "No. I've never known city life. Ben and I both lived on farms in Indiana, but when we married we didn't have enough money to buy land there, so we came west to the open territorv^ and found a plot of land we knew from the start should be ours."

  Ben had come up beside them. "Kansas soil is black and rich. If grasses can grow eight to ten feet high in it, then think what corn and wheat could do." He gestured toward the land that lay before them. "Can you picture prosperous farms as far as the eye can see?"

  "1 could tr%" Megan said, "but if the hills were covered with farms, then the prairie would be gone."

  Ben chuckled heartily. "Now, Ben," Emma chided.

  "I don't mind," Megan reassured her. "Sometimes the things I said would make Da laugh, too. But he always told me he wasn't laughing at me, he was laughing at the rest of the world, which had no idea what was in store for it when responsible people would finally take over and set things to rights."

  Ben stopped and studied her for a moment. Then he smiled and said, "Your Pa was right, Megan. And as for this land, I hope there'll be room for both farms and prairie." He turned and headed for the wagon, saying over his shoulder, "Let's get a move on. We want to show this young lady her new home."

  Megan was delighted when she saw the Browders' house. It was built from logs, all the cracks between

  them caulked with clay, and it had a sod-covered roof. As Emma had said, it was much larger than the Parsons' house. The door at the front overlooked the road, and the back door faced a huge barn, with a side overhang to protect the wagon. Megan remembered Da's pride in the buildings he had helped to build and knew Ben must take great pleasure in this house he had built with his own hands.

  She looked at him shyly. *'It's a grand fine house you have made for yourselves," she said.

  Ben grinned at her. *'It's your home now, too, Megan," he answered.

  As they climbed down from the wagon and Ben began to unhitch the horses, they were greeted with delirious, joyful barks. Lady, a brown and white dog of mixed breed, half-waddled, half-ran to lick their fingers, wiggling and whining with pleasure.

  "She's telling us she missed us," Emma said.

  Megan could see how friendly Lady was, but she wasn't used to dogs and wasn't sure what she should do. As Lady finished greeting Emma and came over to carefully examine her, Megan looked to Emma for guidance.

  Emma bent to stroke Lady's head. 'This is Megan, Lady. You'll want to be her friend." She said to Megan, "Close your fingers, then slowly hold out the back of your hand to Lady."

  As Megan did. Lady cautiously sniffed her hand. Satisfied, the dog moved forward, and Megan timidly scratched her behind the ears.

  "She'll accept you now," Emma said, and she led Megan into the house, Lady following.

  Just as Emma had described, there was a brightly colored quilt on the bed in the room Megan would have for her own. Her window faced the unplowed land that

  rolled down to the river. Megan could see the river a fair distance away, bordered by trees with tall, graceful trunks and bright splotches of golden leaves. "Beautiful," Megan whispered. She ached for the familiar crowded ftiend-liness of that New York room, but she was not quite able to believe that this wonderful room was to be her own.

  Megan soon decided, however, that the kitchen was her favorite place. She stood there admiring the wide fireplace and double swinging arms for holding kettles and pots over the embers. There was a small wood-burning stove, its black pipe disappearing through a hole in the roof, and pans and cooking tools galore hanging on the wall beside it. Oh, if Ma were only here to see this wonderful kitchen!

  A sudden wave of longing for her mother swept over Megan with such force that she trembled and reached out for the back of a chair to steady herself. She had to put aside aU wishful thinking and face the truth, she told herself. Ma would never see this room. It wasn't likely that she would ever be with Ma again!

  Megan closed her eyes, fighting down the cry that tried to explode from the tight place in her chest. Firmly, she pushed back the tears that threatened to come, tucking the pai
n into a hidden comer of her mind. This was no time to give in to her feelings. There were things to busy herself with. First, she would unpack her few clothes and stack them in the drawers of the small chest next to the bed in her room

  "Megan!"

  She turned to see Ben at the open front door. He beckoned to her and said, "Put on your coat and come outside. I want you to meet our near neighbor, Farley Haskill. He's the one who looked after our livestock and property while we were in St Joe."

  Megan grabbed her coat from the rack that stood next to the front door and shoved her arms into the sleeves. The breeze was chill, and she pulled the coat snugly around her, as she followed Ben outside.

  Farley, a short, stocky, balding man, rubbed his hands on the seat of his overalls as Megan approached, then shook her hand. '*Mighty pleased to make your acquaintance," he mumbled, and Megan was surprised to perceive that he was as shy as she was. "Ifs nice to have a child in these parts," he added. ''Nearest family with children is about three miles to the southwest."

  Megan realized that she'd been counting on some neighbor nearby to have children that she could take care of and play with. It was hard to imagine life without other children around. Ben must have realized her disappointment and added, "I guess it's hard for someone from the big city to realize neighbors are far away."

  "Yes," she admitted. ''I was hoping you'd say that you and your wife had children, Mr. Haskill."

  His eyes opened wide. Then he stared at the ground, blushing, and shifted from one foot to the other. "No," he said. "Never been married. I live alone."

  "Farley's chosen to be a bachelor," Ben said, amicably clapping a hand on Mr. Haskill's shoulder.

  But Megan caught a sudden, secretive spark in Mr. Haskill's eyes before he turned away. What is he hiding? she wondered.

  The two men began talking about things pertaining to the farm, so Megan ran back into the house. Enrmia was busily attacking the wooden floor with a broom. "Gone four days, and the dust is an inch thick!" she said.

  Megan hadn't noticed much dust, but she was good at sweeping. She had always done it for Ma. "Let me do that for you," she said.

  Emma kept a firm grip on the broom and smiled. "I'm just letting the house know Tm back," she said. "Or maybe Fm doing this for myself, because it makes me feel that Fm home again and comfortable at settling in."

  "If doing a chore does all that for you, than maybe it will do the same for me," Megan said. "Do you have something for me to do so that FU feel at home?"

  "Oh, dear little Megan!" Emma dropped the broom and enfolded Megan in a hug.

  Megan, her head nestled against Emma's chest, could hear the calm, steady beat of Emma's heart and feel the thrust of her well-rounded belly against her own body. The belly suddenly gave a thump and shifted, and Megan stepped back, smiling. "When will the baby come?" she asked.

  Emma gently patted the protruding curve. "Late December or early January," she said. "Nelda told me this child is so active, it's bound to be strong and healthy."

  Megan could still remember when Ma's babies were bom. Old Mrs. Gridley, who hved down the hall, always came to help. The first thing she did every time was to shoo the children out of the room.

  When Petey, the youngest, was about to be bom, Megan had begged to stay, frightened at leaving Ma. Her hair down and soaked with perspiration. Ma seemed to be in some faraway place where she could neither see nor hear her children. But Mrs. Gridley put Megan out of the room, telling her to help Frances watch Mike, Danny, and Peg.

  Finally Mrs. Gridley had opened the door to invite them back inside, informing them that they had a beautiful baby brother. Megan had hung on Ma's arm, staring at the tiny round red face in the bundle Ma was holding. "I was afraid," she whispered.

  Ma reached over to brush a tear from Megan's cheek. *'Dear little love, having a baby is part of a woman's life, and it is surely a great waste to be afraid of life. Just look at this fine boy now. Wouldn't you say he was worth it?"

  Megan pulled herself back to the present and asked Emma, "When the time comes, will there be a woman here to help you?"

  "Yes, Megan. Don't worry," she said. "There is a grandmother who lives with her family in a sod house about five miles from here. She's already promised to come ahead of time and stay with us so she'll be at hand when the baby is ready."

  "Good," Megan said and gave a httle shiver of relief.

  Ben stomped his feet on the front step, knocking the dust from his boots, and opened the door. "Megan," he said, "would you care to come outside again? I'd like to show you our farm."

  "Oh, yes," Megan said. She reached again for her coat.

  "Where's Farley?" Emma asked. "He is planning to stay for supper, isn't he?"

  "I invited him," Ben answered, "but he was in a hurry to get home." He shook his head. "It's funny, but I get the feeling that there's something on that man's mind."

  "What?" Emma asked.

  "If I knew, Fd tell you," Ben said with a chuckle. "Come on, Megan. Ready?"

  Megan eagerly fumbled at the last buttons on her coat. She ran to keep up with Ben as he strode toward the bam. Lady waddling alongside. The large doors were shut, so Megan followed Ben up a stone step and through a small doorway that opened over a high sill.

  The bam stood empty except for a lean brown rooster who squawked loud complaints, angrily flapping past

  them. "TTiaf s Goliath," Ben said. "He has the run of the place and thinks he owns it all."

  "Does he live here in the bam?"

  "No, he shares the coop behind the bam with the other chickens."

  Megan had stepped aside to give Goliath plenty of nxrni. "Does he bite?" she asked.

  "Bite, no. Peck, yes. He might try to frighten you by rushing at you with his wings flapping. Just pick up a stick or something to wave in his face and yell at him with a voice a Uttle louder than his own. He'll turn and run, the coward that he is."

  Megan smiled. "I don't know much about any kind of animal," she said.

  "Then this is a good place to learn," Ben told her. He pointed out some of the pieces of equipment in the bam, then led her through a wide door at the far end that opened into a corral.

  "Oh," Megan said. 'There are Jay and Jimbo." The horses were busy eating at the trough. As she watched them, a shadow suddenly fell across her shoulders, and Megan turned to see a monstrous hairy face with two horns. Its gigantic eyes and snuffling nose were just a few inches from her own.

  Megan screamed and stumbled backward, tripping and landing with a thump on the ground. The face—^which belonged to some kind of large animal—followed her down, huge eyes staring, and Megan screamed again. Lady ran between the animal and Megan, barking furiously.

  Ben grabbed one of the animal's horns and tugged it away. The animal backed and turned, nonchalantly swaying to the opposite side of the corral, and Ben lifted Megan to her feet. *That's just Rosie, our cow," he said. "She won't hurt you."

  Megan, embarrassed, tried to brush off her skirt. "A cow, is it?" she asked. *i saw cows from the train, but none as huge as that"

  'They'd be the size of Rosie if you saw them up close," Ben said. "Rosie's a gentle soul. She's just curious."

  *Too curious for her own good."

  Ben laughed. "Before long you'll take Rosie for granted. Tomorrow, if you like, I'll teach you to milk her."

  Megan studied Rosie for a moment, then nodded. "I think I'd like that, if Rosie wouldn't mind."

  "We won't bother to ask her," Ben said. "It's best just to tell Rosie what to do, so she won't think she's got more say-so than any cow ought to have."

  Lady rubbed against Megan's legs, and Megan stooped to scratch behind her ears and under her chin. "Thank you for protecting me," Megan murmured. Lady looked up at her with such devotion that Megan had to hug her, rubbing her chin against the top of Lady's head.

  "Lady will want to come with us when we walk to the river," Ben said, so Megan hopped up and followed him from the corral. As Ben had said, Lady w
as right at their heels.

  Not far from the privy was a mound of earth high enough to have a door and one window in it. "What is that?" Megan asked.

  "A root cellar now," Ben said. "A place to store the potatoes and vegetables in the winter, and a place to go for safety from tornadoes in the spring." Ben glanced down at her. Before she could ask, he explained, "Big windstorms. When a tornado comes, the safest place to be is underground. By the time tornado season gets here, you'll know all about what to do when you see a tornado coming."

  Megan shook her head. "I don't want to see a tornado," she said.

  "No one does, but they're a fact of life out here."

  "Did you build the root cellar to get away from tornadoes or to store food?"

  "We built it as a place to live," Ben said. "That was our home when Emma and I first claimed this land."

  "You lived underground?" Megan shuddered.

  "It wasn't that bad." Ben smiled at Megan's embarrassment. "Many of the folks who come here live in dugouts until they prosper enough to build a sod house or a log house like ours."

  As they passed a small garden at the back of the house, Ben pointed out a few squash and pumpkins half-hidden among the wide-leafed, scraggly vines. "The last of the fall vegetables," he said. "In the early spring, we'll dig the ground and plant row after row of new vegetables." He swung his left arm in an arc, indicating the surrounding land. "Someday," he said, "this will be planted in wheat. I know this is good land for wheat, and there are farmers to the east who have been successful with it."

  "Then why don't you grow wheat now?"

  "Wheat needs enough water to nourish it, and these last few years have been dry. Seed costs money, and it takes time and care, as well as enough land, to make the seed grow. I was able to bring water to my cornfield, but so far I haven't thought of a way to carry enough river water to a prairie to make it bloom."

  Ben fell silent for a while. Megan strode after him. The soft stalks of the tall grass whipped at her dress, and their dusty fragrance pricked her nostrils. She plucked the tip off one of the grasses, its already-browning buds purple and red and deep gold, and tickled it against her chin. Wouldn't little Peg and Petey love to play in this grass, which was tall enough to hide in? She could

 

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