Journey of the Heart

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Journey of the Heart Page 3

by Mills, DiAnn; Darty, Peggy;


  “And where do I get a Bible?”

  “Oh, use ours until we are able to find one for you.”

  Katie hesitated, wishing she hadn’t sounded so agreeable to learn about their worship. “I already have the Comanche gods,” she began. “Why do I need yours?” Aunt Elizabeth squeezed her hand, but Katie did not look her way. Her gaze stayed fixed on Uncle Seth’s face.

  “I understand how you must feel. Everything that has ever belonged to you has been taken away. You’ve been uprooted from your home and told to live with an aunt and uncle whom you barely know. Now you must feel we are trying to force our religion upon you. Because we love you, we want you to experience the love of Jesus Christ and His gift of eternal life. Your aunt and I worship the one true God, the merciful Creator of the heavens and the earth, but you will have to find out about His love and mercy for yourself.”

  Anger mounted inside her, even though the years spent among the Indians had trained her to keep a calm composure. “Where was your God when my ma and pa died?” she said, trembling. “I don’t see love and mercy in their deaths.”

  “I wish I had answers for you,” Uncle Seth said. “But God has a plan and a purpose for those who love Him. There’s a lot of pain and sorrow in this world, and without God this life is worthless. All I’m asking is for you to read His Word, and learn about Him through the scriptures.”

  “Out of respect, I’ll read your Bible,” Katie said. “And I will ask questions when the words confuse me.” But she refused to believe in the love of a God who allowed pain and suffering.

  “Thank you,” Seth said, easing his back against the hard chair.

  “I’ll start tonight, if you like. But remember I’m doing this for you and Aunt Elizabeth. It’s the least I can do since you are providing me with a home and treating me so well.”

  Seth sighed. “You are a blessing to us. We are pleased to have you here, so don’t think you have to do anything in payment. We love you, Katie, and we’re concerned about your spiritual life.”

  So began Katie’s reading of the Bible. She found the stories and accounts interesting but remained skeptical. Questions were answered and passages reread to grasp the meaning. By the third day, she found herself looking forward to the nightly reading. It frustrated her that what she’d agreed to do out of obligation had begun to touch her heart.

  Aunt Elizabeth insisted upon cleaning up after supper so Katie could read, but she refused. The evening hours offered ample time for Bible study, and she would do her share of the work.

  Sergeant Peyton Sinclair often stopped to see Seth about business. Why didn’t he tend to army matters at the blacksmith? Yet she enjoyed talking to him. He had a quick smile and kind eyes, both of which she appreciated.

  “Uncle Seth,” Katie began one evening after the sergeant had left. “Besides you, Aunt Elizabeth, and Sergeant Sinclair, most of the other folks don’t appreciate me being here. Are you sure you want me to stay?”

  “Of course. Who has spoken to you?” Seth’s face reddened.

  “It doesn’t matter whom. I was just concerned that they may have said something unkind to you or Aunt Elizabeth.”

  “Don’t you worry a thing about us,” Seth said. “Neither of us have ever been prone to gossip and malicious talk.”

  Aunt Elizabeth poured him the remains of the evening coffee and joined them. “What do you say to them?”

  She shouldn’t have said a word. This wasn’t their problem. “I promised the colonel that I wouldn’t say a word about living with the Comanches or how I feel about my Indian friends. Sometimes people’s words make me angry, but most of the time the criticisms hurt.”

  “For certain, you are a better person than they are,” Seth said. “Tell me their names, and I’ll speak to them.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to cause any more problems for you than what already exist.” She smiled at her beloved aunt and uncle. Their love warmed and comforted her every minute of the day.

  One evening Seth questioned Katie about Indian religion.

  “Tell me how our God is different from Comanche gods,” he said, pulling a chair closer to hers.

  She considered her answer for several moments before replying. She was naturally reflective and wanted to make certain her words mirrored accurate knowledge.

  “Comanches do believe in a Great Spirit—similar to the God of the Bible, but they also believe the sun, moon, and earth have powers. They don’t gather together and worship like folks here, because their religious beliefs are more of an individual experience.”

  “I heard certain animals and birds mean specific things,” Uncle Seth said.

  She nodded. “Yes, and they can talk if needed. Thunder is supposed to come from a huge bird and is very powerful. A wolf means something good and a coyote is more…mischievous. Of course buffalo and eagles are powerful spirits and are very desirable. A deer can be good or evil, a bear cures wounds, skunks cure serious wounds, and elks are a symbol of strength.”

  “How would a Comanche get these powers?”

  “Older boys go off by themselves to have visions about what holds their guardian spirit. Their powers can be just about anything, depending on their vision.”

  “Do you think the practice is true?” Uncle Seth said.

  Katie pondered his question. “I’m not sure what I believe. The Bible says your God made everything, and He has all the power. If I say the Bible is the truth, then there is no truth in the spirits of the Comanches. I don’t want to let go of Indian ways—not yet anyway.” She took a deep breath before continuing and hoped her words would convey the inner turmoil of two different worlds.

  “Uncle Seth, I find it impossible to believe there is a God who is powerful but loving. Powerful and strong I understand, but it’s very difficult for me to add loving and merciful alongside them. The parables and the miracles done by Jesus are interesting, and He certainly went about doing good. But if He was the Son of God, why did He walk with those people when most of them didn’t listen to Him?”

  “Whoa,” he said with a chuckle. “Slow down just a bit. You’re a smart girl, Katie, and I see you’re thinking and wondering about God’s Word. Let’s first talk about all the traits of God; then you’ll be able to understand Him better.”

  All evening Uncle Seth talked about the characteristics of a loving, powerful God. He explained how God created and loved all of His children. Even though they were wicked and deserved to die for their sins, He wanted them saved. God decided to send His Son, Jesus, to them. Jesus taught them how much God truly loved them and wanted them to be obedient. God loved them so much that He allowed Jesus to take the blame for their evil ways. Jesus died on a wooden cross so people could one day live in heaven.

  She appreciated the simplicity of his explanation, especially when the Bible was often difficult to comprehend. “So Jesus died for the people living then and now?”

  “Yes, for all times.”

  “It’s a shame He died for nothing, because people are still evil. His bones went back into the earth His Father created.”

  “Not exactly. God raised Him from the dead after three days. Jesus now lives in heaven with His Father, and all who believe in Him will one day live with Him, too.”

  “I need to think more about this,” she said at the close of the evening. “My head is spinning like a child’s toy.”

  “Of course, we’ll talk again.”

  Katie smiled. “I’m afraid I have disappointed Aunt Elizabeth by not instantly believing.”

  “She’s concerned because she loves you.”

  “And I love her…both of you so very much. Thank you, Uncle Seth, for taking the time to explain your religion to me.”

  He touched her arm. “I’m always here for you. For the next couple of days, I’ll be working late. Colonel Ross has need of me. You can always ask Elizabeth questions during the day.”

  She went to bed and woke the following morning with the same thoughts. She wanted to bel
ieve in God and accept Jesus as His Son for no other reason than to please her aunt and uncle. But she had so many questions. It made no sense. Her parents had died before their time. Did they now live in heaven with God? Couldn’t God have simply spared them a few years longer?

  Perhaps she was only being stubborn and rebellious, but this God didn’t seem fair. She missed her parents, and she needed them. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit how much she missed her Comanche friends.

  In the second week of her reading, Katie found the word rehoboth in the twenty-sixth chapter of Genesis. Seeing the word given especially to her by her father startled her, and she read it again. The verse stated that Abraham named a well Rehoboth. Slowly she read verse 22 for the third time, this time aloud.

  “And he removed from thence, and digged another well; and for that they strove not: and he called the name of it Rehoboth; and he said, for now the Lord hath made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.” Katie closed the Bible. Pa had believed in God, and he’d told her to leave the Comanches and find her rehoboth—to find her own well in the land so she would be fruitful.

  Perhaps Pa’s cries for Jesus were not fevered ranting, but a request for God to take his spirit to heaven. A tingling in the bottom of her stomach frightened her. The sensation caused her to tremble, and she pushed all thoughts of her aunt and uncle’s religion aside. Evil spirits might harm them if she did not fear them.

  “Katie,” Seth said one morning as he left for the blacksmith. “Sergeant Sinclair stopped by to see me yesterday. He asked if he could come calling on you.”

  Katie’s eyes widened, and she heard Aunt Elizabeth laugh.

  “I knew it,” she said, still laughing. “I knew from the start the sergeant liked the looks of our Katie.”

  “It’s your decision,” Uncle Seth said. “I told him I needed to ask you first.”

  Her thoughts flew to Lone Eagle, but she dared not say anything about the warrior. “I need some time to think about it.”

  “I’ll tell him so.” He smiled. “He’s not the only one who has expressed an interest in you, but up until now I haven’t felt a need to talk to you about courtin’ matters. You’re seventeen, right?”

  “Yes, sir, seventeen last January.”

  “I didn’t like the looks or the actions of a few others who expressed interest, but I like the sergeant. He’s a good man and a respected leader.”

  “Can we talk about it this evening?” Katie’s words trembled.

  “Seth, you go on now. You’ll have her in tears—embarrassing her so. She’s just being a woman, thinking things through.”

  All morning long, Katie pondered over Sergeant Sinclair wanting to court her. This strange notion bothered her. What would Lone Eagle do if he found out a white man wanted to spend an evening with her? Katie well understood what courtin’ meant, and she knew exactly what the warrior would do. Lone Eagle would kill him.

  But I’m not in the Comanche village anymore. I am a white woman in a white man’s world. Any feelings I ever had for Lone Eagle have to be forgotten. He will live in his world without me, and I must go on with my life without him.

  At midday Katie offered to take food for Seth to the blacksmith. During their visit, she agreed for Sergeant Sinclair to come calling.

  Chapter Four

  Aunt Elizabeth hummed a lively tune while mending Uncle Seth’s shirts. As a blacksmith, he burned holes in his clothes faster than she could keep them repaired. The sound of Katie’s aunt’s voice soothed the apprehension about Sergeant Sinclair’s visit that evening while she kneaded bread. Katie needed a distraction to keep from thinking about what Lone Eagle would do if he knew about the evening plans.

  Her mind slipped back to Lone Eagle’s parting words—the last time she saw him before her father died.

  According to the tribe’s tradition, young couples were not supposed to meet in public, so they arranged secret places for their conversing. Lone Eagle usually intercepted Katie on her way to get water. It was a trip she had to make frequently, and she never failed to look for the warrior standing among the trees near the riverbank. It became a game because he never hid in the same place twice. This time he stood straight in her path.

  “Nei mah-tao-yo [My little one],” Lone Eagle had whispered.

  “Hein ein mah-su-ite? [What do you want?]” Katie said, pretending to be annoyed with the interruption.

  Stealing behind her, Lone Eagle’s arms encircled her waist then turned her to face him. They held each other for several moments, basking in the warmth of young love. He released her long enough to tell her of the gifts waiting at Jeremiah’s tent. Three horses were a generous gift in compensation for a wife, but Lone Eagle wanted the white warrior to know how much Katie meant to him. If her father accepted the horses, then he agreed to their marriage. Lone Eagle told her he would be gone for several days. When he returned, the two would live as husband and wife. She well remembered the sound of Lone Eagle’s deep voice, the longing in his ebony eyes, and the warmth of his arms embracing her. Only his quick temper bothered her.

  With a punch to the bread dough, Katie faced confusion and fear. By now she would have been Lone Eagle’s wife. His property.

  Katie sensed her aunt’s gaze upon her, and she turned to smile into the face of the woman. If Katie felt certain of anything, it was the love of her aunt and uncle. In a world where everything had been snatched from her, she cherished her aunt and uncle. Tomorrow they, too, could be taken away, but today they were alive and real. Today she could reach out and touch them, and their words and faces were permanently etched in her mind. Ma and Pa, Lone Eagle, and Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Seth were all those she loved, and it didn’t matter whether they were in the flesh—in her heart they lived on.

  “I’ve taken the liberty to arrange something for you this afternoon,” Aunt Elizabeth said. A sparkle lit up her eyes.

  “And what might that be?” Katie said.

  “One of my friends, Martha Jameson, has a daughter your age, and I asked them to come by for a visit. The young lady’s name is Lauren. I hope you don’t mind,” she said. Now reservation rose in her voice.

  Katie paused a bit and considered the idea of having a friend her own age. Never had she experienced such a delight. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  “Katie, child, you amaze me how you think about things before you answer.” She laughed and wiped her hands with her apron. “I know you inherited that trait from Jeremiah. Many times he would hesitate in replying to our questions—always deliberating every part of other folks’ words.”

  “I guess I’m my father’s child,” Katie said, while sadness washed over her. “I try not to be impulsive. Pa said to always put yourself in the place of the one doing the talking. If you can think like they do, then you can understand their hearts.”

  “And what does this heart say?”

  Katie pressed her finger to her lips. “I believe we need to make a honey cake and dust off the teacups for we have guests this afternoon. And thank you for giving me something to think about other than Sergeant Sinclair coming by tonight. I’m nervous.”

  “I’m here for whatever you want to talk about.”

  While they readied for the visit, Aunt Elizabeth talked endlessly about Martha and Lauren, their large family, and their love for each other. The appointed hour soon arrived. The small home smelled inviting with the warm honey cake and freshly brewed tea.

  “They’re here,” her aunt said when a rap sounded at the door.

  Katie tore off her apron and hung it on a peg beside the front door. She shook a bit, wanting friends but apprehensive of what they knew about her.

  Aunt Elizabeth opened the door. “Martha, Lauren, it’s so good to see you. Do come in and meet my niece, Katie Colter.”

  One look at Martha and Lauren Jameson, and Katie felt at ease. Any concern she may have experienced about her association with the Comanches disappeared when they hugged her and welcomed her to Fort Davis.<
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  Martha towered over Aunt Elizabeth and Katie. She was a large-boned woman with white-gray hair and the telltale signs of hard work lining her face. Lauren didn’t resemble her mother except in the kind mannerisms. She barely stood five feet tall, tiny framed, and her hair matched the color of desert clay. Lauren appeared to be no more than a child, when in fact she had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday.

  Elizabeth ushered the women to their seats, brightening with the guests. Welcoming others into her home was indeed a gift.

  “It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed a good cup of tea,” Martha said, setting the delicate china cup back on its saucer. “You really didn’t need to make such a fuss, Elizabeth. Lauren and I have been meaning to come calling on you and Katie.”

  Katie peered into Martha’s soft brown eyes, as inviting and liquid as though pure love flowed through them.

  “And I’ve been enjoying her company so much that I haven’t properly introduced her to other folks. Katie is such a help, I don’t know what I ever did without her.” Pride rose in Aunt Elizabeth’s voice as she cut each of them a generous slice of honey cake.

  “I’m just so pleased that someone here is my age.” Lauren’s sky blue eyes held the same warmth as her mother’s, and she laughed easily. “How do you like our Fort Davis?”

  She must force herself to be congenial. “It certainly is different than living out in the wild with Pa. Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Seth have been wonderful, and I’m learning new things every day. Are you with the army?”

  Lauren shook her head, but Martha chose to reply. “No, we’re just seeking shelter until the territory is safer. We have a farm a few miles from here, but Indians kept stealing our cattle and horses, and then they burned our barn. Luckily no one was killed.”

  Katie’s stomach soured. If these women were aware of her life with the Comanches, they didn’t reveal it. Had Pa been a part of this? She hoped not, but why deceive herself?

  Martha continued. “But in answer to your question, Lauren is fixin’ to be part of the army.”

 

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