by Vicky Saari
Over at the Bascom and Hodges Coal Mine, as they were now calling themselves, a very surly Job was flinging tools in every direction. Luke watched his old friend for a while and wondered how long it would be before he settled down. “You’re not still upset about the cracks those men in the village made, are you?” he inquired tentatively. “It’s not the first time anyone called you a half-breed.”
Job gave him a smoldering look, picked up his pickax and stomped back into the mine. Luke had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. But this was one time he couldn’t talk about the hurt that was eating him inside. It was not a new feeling. Indeed, it had become more like a rotting disease—the hurt had been growing deep inside him for years. He had just never let it out before. He’d heard the story about how these men had attacked his family and taken everything they owned when he was still a baby. He didn’t have any recollection of the affair, but it seemed like all the pain he bore could be traced back to that one time. Then, there was the time Big Eagle had shown up at their home and begged his sister, Job’s mother, to go west with him when he and all their family was forced to move. In the years since, more and more Indians were being forced to move west, and when they objected they were literally being picked up and taken forcibly. The stories filtering back were that many had died along the way, and he wondered how many more would die before it was over. Would there be a day when he would be forced to go too?
Now that northern Indiana was being opened to settlement, those few Pottawattamie remaining would be forced to go like all the others they talk about down south in Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia. One way or another they would all be forced out, never mind that they were here first. “You know, Luke, my pa died of a broken heart. It wasn’t the licker that killed him or my ma,” he said as he dumped a shovelful of coal into the wagon. “He always told my ma that someday people would be proud to know Minnie Bascom.” The words were wrenched from him with terrible pain. “But never once was he ever able to take her into the village like your ma and Mrs. Hogarth did. Never once was she able to make her face known in public like her friends.”
Luke ached for his friend but had no words of comfort to offer. He knew in his heart that Job was right. More than once he’d seen and heard the slurs men made when they delivered their coal to the docks. It hurt and angered him just as much, but it was something that neither of them seemed able to defend or defeat. It was thinking like that that had kept him from moving to Louisville to work for his uncle. He wondered how John handled the problem. He’d married Luke’s sister, and they ran the inn together, but he already knew. John was Sarah’s half brother and was able to pass for white, and they’d never told anyone outside the family any different. For the time being, he left his friend to struggle with his own problems, knowing that after a few hours he’d be his old self again.
Eager to get to their mustard patch, Jessie was struggling to keep up with her daughter as she crossed the creek to gather greens. The girl was remarkably jubilant today. Soon, they began talking about the spring when they had found the runaway slave in these same weeds three years before and hoped they wouldn’t find more. It was probably the worst summer either had ever faced. It had been the same summer that the cholera epidemic had hit. Sethsburg was luckier than many other places, where thousands had died, or so they learned later. What had begun in the East had traveled all the way to New Orleans, someone later told them. “Ma, am I doomed to be an old maid like Lucy says?” the girl asked. “I mean, after all, most girls my age are married with children, and right now there doesn’t seem to be any prospects for me to get married unless’n Brad might ask me.”
At nineteen, the younger Jessie was a full-fledged woman, and what she was saying was true of most girls her age. “Sarah was barely sixteen when she married Brad’s dad,” she continued. The mother took a seat on her favorite rock and dumped her basket of greens in her lap. She began cleaning and inspecting each dark green leaf as she put it back in the basket. The leaves were smaller than she liked, but that also meant they would be tenderer. Her daughter also knew her mother was ignoring her comments. “Maybe I’ll just have to ask him myself if he don’t do it soon,” she pushed.
The older Jessie spied a few sprigs of fresh poke and rose from her seat to cut a few stalks. “These’ll make a nice lunch,” she said aloud.
Perturbed, young Jessie stomped her foot and turned back to picking greens, pouting. “You don’t care if I am an old maid.”
Her ma smiled as she bent to cut another poke stalk and finally responded, “I figure when he’s ready, Brad’ll do the askin’.” She dropped the stalk into her basket and headed back across the creek toward the house, careful to avoid her daughter’s eyes. She wasn’t willing to admit to her daughter that as far as she was concerned, a marriage between her and Brad had been arranged from the start. After all, if it hadn’t been for Brad’s mother taking Mittens to her breasts at birth, Mittens probably would not have survived when she was a baby. Tears formed in her eyes as she remembered that dreadful time when she had almost died herself, a memory that increased her pain when she thought of Minnie Bascom. She missed Minnie more than she could ever say. She made a mental note to take flowers to Minnie’s. This thought reminded her of Sylvia Maynard. Now that was one woman she would not miss. “Hmm,” she muttered to herself as she wondered what Mrs. Maynard’s response would be if she had known that Minnie’s son had taken her Todd into his home and that he was now an apprentice to Zeke in the blacksmith shop.
She thought also of Maddie and Todd Maynard. They were teenagers now, and Maddie had been back living at the inn long since Mrs. Hamburg was able to care for Abigail and her baby herself. Young Jessie had delivered the Hamburgs’ baby with guidance from her mother, and it was obvious that the Maynard girl had had much experience in caring for babies. Jessie remembered how she had helped when she had delivered the other Maynard babies. She had everything ready when Jessie arrived. She had been equally helpful when Lucinda had her baby. Children grew up quickly out here in the wilderness, or the woods, as she called it. Jed and Zeke had to. They had both helped in the delivery of their little sister, she thought as she watched her daughter returning from the springhouse, where she had taken their greens to wash. She was drawn out of her ramblings by grunting sounds coming from her garden again. “Dang, Jed’s pigs are gonna be the death of me,” she grumbled as she reached for the slop bucket she kept near the door.
******
George unrolled the architect’s plans for Dave and Charlie. “This is what the house looked like in its prime,” he told the workmen. “They want us to fix it back up.” Hogarth peered over their shoulders and smiled.
Charlie looked at the plans, “That’s the old wing we tore off, ain’t it?”
Dave looked over the plans carefully and pointed to the addition, “My wife said the grandson added this part of the house after the Civil War. I guess he got a contract and built wagons for the army; least that’s what she said.”
Chapter 29
“Well, it’s about time!” swore Martha Hodges as she cut a stick of sugar for Sarah Hogarth. “I was beginning to wonder if that boy of yours was ever goin’ to get up the nerve to do what we all knew he wuz gonna do. I mean, if he didn’t marry Jessie, who could he marry?”
Sarah knew Martha didn’t mean what she said, at least not the way it sounded, but she did have a point. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, Sethsburg was still on the frontier. When it came to choosing a mate, there wasn’t a whole lot a body could do. “We’ve all known it was comin’, the big question was when,” was the only response she could think of. “Now that he’s taken the plunge, he wants to get it over with as soon as he can, like when the preacher comes ’round the circuit next month. Says he don’t want everything interferin’ with plantin’ season,” she laughed.
“That doesn’t give us much time to get ready,” Martha babbled a
s she watched her son come in the door. She turned to him, “What’s with the long face?”
Luke didn’t say anything at first, and then he asked, “Have you seen Job?”
Sarah and Martha both looked at him. You almost never saw one without the other. Not since they went into the coal mining business together. “What do you mean, have I seen Job?”
“Well,” he started, not sure how to put his fears into words. He told them about all the slurs and nasty talk that they’d been encountering every time they went to deliver a load of coal. “Last spring, a bunch of men in the village were talkin’ about the Indian removal that’s been goin’ on, and they looked at Job and asked him when he was leavin’. He got pretty upset about it, and I guess it’s been eatin’ at him ever since. I don’t know why, but I’m afraid he’s gone off to try and find Big Eagle, Minnie’s brother. His clothes are all gone. Last night, when we went home, he said he was as sick of the mine as he was of the tannery.”
Sarah and Martha gaped at each other. “Have you talked to John?” Sarah asked, worried about how her half brother would take the news if he lost his only brother in addition to his ma and pa.
“No, that’s why I came here first. I was hopin’ ma, or maybe you, could go with me,” he confessed.
Martha turned to Sarah and said, “You go on over with him and send Maddie out to Jessie’s. Tell her you may be a bit late so she won’t worry when you don’t come right back for the girls while Little Jed’s still in school.”
John Bascom was grooming one of the stage line’s horses and looking after his daughter, who toddled under and around the huge draft horse. Lucinda was in the inn making dinner so that it would be ready as soon as the stage arrived. Whether it was going east or west, there always seemed to be a load of hungry travelers in a hurry to eat and move on. He hoped he’d have all the horses ready before they arrived. Since he could usually hear the coach long before it arrived, he always tried to have a fresh team ready to hitch up by the time they pulled up in front of the inn. He checked around and saw his daughter handing a handful of hay up to the huge draft animal and almost laughed at his own reaction when he saw his daughter’s small hand disappear into the animal’s mouth. Every time he saw the child’s hand disappear, his heart sank, and yet, never once had any of the animals ever done anything more than grasp the blades of grass with their monstrous tongues. Little Minnie squealed in delight at the sensation. “Someday, you’re gonna lose a hand like that,” he grumbled as he swept the girl into his arms and swung her to his shoulder.
“Here comes your uncle Luke. I wonder what he wants. He’s got Sarah with him, too,” he said as he closed the stable door and walked out to meet them. As soon as Little Minnie saw them, she began to squirm and want down so that she could run to Uncle Luke. A shiver ran over him as he saw Sarah turn toward the inn, and by the look on Luke’s face he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever either had to say.
Inside the inn, Sarah went straight through to the kitchen, where she found Cindy and Maddie peeling potatoes. “We ought to save these eyes and maybe we could plant them,” Maddie was saying as she broke another long one off before taking a knife to it. Both were startled when Sarah came in the door.
“Maddie, can you run over to Jed’s mom’s house and tell her I may be a little late coming home. She’s got the girls, and I don’t want her worrying,” she said to the young girl.
Curious, Maddie rose and agreed without questioning, for which Sarah was relieved. Just as the girl was going out the back door, Luke and John were coming in the front. “What’s this all about, Luke? You said I should come in and sit down,” grumbled John after he turned Little Minnie loose, and she ran toward her mom.
Once they were all settled around a table in the dining room, Luke told them just what he’d told his mom and Sarah minutes earlier. John looked dumbfounded for a moment, then drew in a breath, and exhaled deeply. “You say, you think he’s gone to look for Big Eagle?”
“Yeah! All his clothes and one of the horses are gone.” Luke stared at the floor, wishing he hadn’t had to bring such news. After telling him about the ridicule Job had experienced in the village, he concluded, “You know, John, it hurt me as much as it hurt him to hear people say such things.”
Cindy’s heart ached for her husband as she watched the sorrow followed by anger fill his face. It was as bad as when he got the news about his mom and dad.
“You know that morning when we woke up and found Big Eagle’s teepee in our yard? I knew it was going to bring trouble someday,” John lamented. “Job was fascinated with Big Eagle, and I don’t know if he was more disappointed when Dad and Mom refused to pack up and leave with him or when he found out Dad wasn’t goin’ to shoot him.” The bitter memories worked their way to the surface. No one spoke for a long while until Cindy jumped up and ran after Little Minnie to keep her from climbing up the drawers on the sideboard.
John studied the knots in the floor, tented his fingers under his chin, and drew in another deep breath. “Maybe this is what Job needs. God! How he hated the tannery. He hated it when Ma and Pa were still alive. I don’t think he’s ever been happy there; not even the coal really seemed to help him much.”
“So what do you want me to do about the mine?” quizzed Luke. “Do I keep mining, or do I look for something else to do?”
John studied the situation for a moment and said, “Let’s think on it for a while. Just keep minin’ as you have been, if you want. You have men depending on you for a job. We can work it out later. Besides, he might just show up and be ready to go back as before.” He rose and turned to walk away.
Luke relaxed briefly and then remembered, “Sarah, when I walked into the store, you and ma had a big conversation goin’. Did I break something up?”
Sarah sighed with relief when she was reminded of her conversation with Martha. “Yeah! As a matter of fact, you did. I was tellin’ your ma about Brad and Jessie gettin’ married.”
“Well, it’s about time,” the three chimed in at almost the same moment, then looked at each other and laughed. Even Little Minnie joined in the laughter.
“When’s the wedding?” Cindy moved closer to get all the details while John and Luke went back to their business at hand.
*****
Just the memories of that day were enough to warm Hogarth to his rafters. Little Jessie’s wedding would be the first of many that he would witness.
******
Almost as soon as Brad had popped the question, young Jessie began gathering wild flowers, pine cones, berries, and pine boughs to decorate her parents’ living room. She had decided that she and Brad would be married in front of the fireplace, and the dinner that followed would be held in the old cabin for nostalgic reasons. Everyone in Sethsburg was expected to attend, and it was well understood that the two of them would set up housekeeping in Sarah’s old cabin. Like most newlyweds of the day, their first home would be furnished and equipped with cast-offs and hand-me-downs from their parents’ homes. Caleb had built them a rope bed and Jessie had spent weeks drying corn husks and making them a mattress to top it with. Jed began building them a small eating table to replace the box Abner had used. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be completed in time for the wedding, but he did have wooden bowls already made. He also gave Brad his choice of a cow and a pig to begin their own herds. Sarah and Jessie had already furnished their cupboards with more than enough dried fruits and vegetables to keep them for several months.
As justice of the peace, Seth had arranged for the marriage license. He and Martha were going to board the preacher while he was in the area. Zeke and Lucy surprised the couple with a new iron skillet. John and Cindy brought them an iron kettle from the inn that they had not used. Young Jessie was surprised when the Hamburgs arrived and presented them with an embroidered tablecloth that Greta had made. Agnes Turner came and brought Jessie carding combs and a d
rop spindle to use to spin her own wool. It had been the one she had used to start spinning. The Pritchett family showed up with a tooled leather-covered stool. Maddie Maynard brought them a loaf of bread that she had baked in the kitchen at the inn, and Todd offered a loaf of sugar that he had earned by running errands in the grocery store for Martha. Ross, the Hodges’ hired man, couldn’t attend, as he volunteered to watch over the store and inn. Instead, he sent them a lamb that he had rescued weeks before when its mother had died while giving birth. He thought it an appropriate accompaniment for Mrs. Turner’s carding combs. Martha and Seth gave them chickens and a new blanket.
On the first day of 1836, everyone gathered in the Hogarth house, bringing their own chairs. Jed and Zeke directed them around the house while Caleb and young Jessie kept out of sight in the round room. It was hard to tell which of them was more nervous. Caleb had never been more proud of his daughter than he was this day. “Brad is a lucky young man,” he said, smiling at her and leaning over and kissing the top of her head. Much too soon they were standing before the preacher, and he was asking, “Who giveth this woman to this man?”
*****
Hogarth sighed. It was one of the happiest moments of his past. He thought for a while longer, savoring the memory before turning to his present. His modern family was home for the summer, and his carpenters were back on the job, rebuilding his old wing. Already the thump, thump of basketballs was getting on his nerves. Brad and Kayla were both working in the gardens. Baby Alice sat down on the front steps to paint her fingernails, and a drop of water fell on her knee. She looked at the spot, smiled, and stroked Hogarth’s mighty frame, for no one loved the old house more than she.