by Kari Trumbo
She moved her hand and let him read further. He would read until they reached the small round dot then she would repeat it. They read what he told her at the end was the first three chapters. She didn’t believe she knew any more about reading than she had the night before, but it was more pleasant than sitting in front of the fire thinking of Pete.
It didn’t take her long to realize riding with the proper equipment was much easier than she’d experienced before. They rode quicker without Pete, though they kept to a trot and took a short break at each mealtime for the horses to rest. Making excellent time riding, it took only a week for them to enter a town which Morgan told her boasted it was the first stop in Kansas. This was where she wanted to be, so why did it feel as if she needed to continue searching?
Chapter Nine
Pete balanced on his heels out of sight in a little copse of trees. Morgan and Rose had stopped outside of town and they were talking. Rose was up and moving again. He couldn’t help but be pleased about that.
He’d been waiting at this town for a day and had ventured into it once. The people were friendly enough, though leery of a lone Indian. None had been forthcoming with help in finding somewhere to make a living, if that was still what he wanted to do.
Leaving Rose wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d had it all planned out when they left Santee. He would get her to Kansas, be her hero, and find work so she wouldn’t have to. The whiskey smugglers had spoken of wealthy ranches, big cities, and even bigger dreams. Perhaps he was too close to the edge of Kansas to expect such things?
Rose looked all around her. She could probably feel him watching her. She’d always had good instincts, except when it came to Morgan. He frowned. That he couldn’t figure out.
They rode closer to town and the further Rose got, the more he couldn’t stand to let her go. Pete moved from clumps of trees to long prairie grass, following the pair as closely as he dared.
~~~
Morgan reined up just outside the little town. “I need a few things. We are out of meat and I’d like to talk to a few people, get a paper, and see if there are any advertisements. Our best bet is finding someplace looking for us. We’ll fit in better if they need us.”
Rose fiddled with her reins. “Where should I go?”
“It’s spring. School’s out for planting. Why don’t you see if the teacher is in the school? Maybe she could help you with some books more suited to beginning readers?”
She nodded and dismounted, walking toward the small white building on the edge of town. He’d told her riding astride would be frowned on in good company so she let him tie the horse and would walk wherever she needed to go. She ran her hands down her dress, knowing she probably looked even more unkempt than she felt. Noises rose from inside the school, and she approached the door with caution.
A harsh slapping sound and a child’s yelp after each slap assaulted her ears. Her eyes flamed in anger. She yanked the door open to find a young girl with blond braids down each side of her head, tears streamed down her face with her hand held, palm up, in front of the teacher. The woman held a narrow stick roughly as long as her forearm out over the child’s hand.
“Stop!” Rose rushed toward the poor girl. “How dare you treat a child that way?”
Fear took over the child’s face and she shrieked, running for the front of the schoolroom.
The teacher glared at her. “Who do you think you are, barging in here and interrupting me? This is my classroom and this child needs discipline, something her father has not given her. You are not her parent. This is not your concern.”
Rose bore down on the teacher. “Beating a child is no way to make them mind.”
The teacher took in Rose’s filthy dress, dark skin, and long braid hanging over her shoulder. Rose had stopped wearing the bonnet long ago. She took her stick and held it to her cheek, smirking. “You don’t know anything of education or what it takes to run a class. In fact, you don’t know much of anything, do you? Heathen.”
Rose wasn’t sure what a heathen was, but by the way it was said, she was sure it wasn’t kind. She flipped her braid over her shoulder, and readied herself for a fight.
Morgan drawled from the door. “Pardon me, ma’am?”
Her face changed in the instant she saw him. Was she imagining a blush on this harsh woman’s face? She smiled and her hand fluttered at her chest. Rose turned to see him standing there.
“Rose, you forgot your bonnet.” He handed her the offending garment.
The teacher pushed past Rose and approached Morgan. “Yes, what can I do for you?” she twittered.
“Dr. Morgan Johnson.” He held out his hand to her. “I was just here to bring Rose her bonnet. She came to ask if you have any spare readers.”
The teacher looked at his hand but didn’t shake it. “Oh...Well, I’m afraid we don’t. The children always have to return their books. The school cannot afford new ones every year. I doubt she would have the aptitude to read anyway.” She looked back at Rose and put her hand to her mouth, whispering, “She is only a savage.”
Morgan blinked at her then leaned against one of the desks.
“Well, there’s where you’re wrong. Rose has already begun reading. She just needs help from a book that’s a little easier than the one she’s been using.”
Rose watched the small child scoot her way along the wall to the back of the room while he spoke. The door closed with a soft click behind her. She smiled behind her hand. The poor thing would probably catch it the next time she came to school, but today she was free. Rose pulled her attention back to the two others in the room.
“I don’t have any books for your Indian friend.” She gestured at Rose, searching the room with her eyes. Rose giggled as the teacher realized the little girl had escaped her. Slamming the ruler on her desk, she screamed at Rose. “That child will learn to mind me!” Her voice rose with each word.
The door to the school opened again and the child returned with someone else.
“Miss Hurst, what is the meaning of this?” A man shorter than Morgan, well dressed and astute, strode into the room followed by the child. He held her left hand. Taking the girl’s right wrist, he shoved her hand out for all to see. Large welts had formed on her palm from the thin stick.
“She failed to complete her work...again. That is the punishment. I am fair. All children who don’t finish their work receive the same.” She didn’t look at the child’s hand, only at the man.
“You know she lost her mama only last week. How could you do this? It’s a wonder she is even back here. She only wants to make up what she’s missed.” He flushed crimson the longer he spoke. “The school board will hear about this.” He turned to lead the child away and Morgan stopped him.
He took the little girl’s hand in his without touching the palm and went down on one knee to look her in the eye.
“Will you let me help you?”
She nodded her assent and walked with him outside. He picked a few broad, flat weeds from the grass behind the school. Mashing them up in his palm, he placed them on her hand.
“Did you see which leaves I picked?” He pointed to the patch of them. “As soon as your hand starts hurting again, take those off, pick a few more leaves, mash them, and put them on your hand.”
She smiled at him and nodded, bounding after the balding man. It wasn’t until after she’d left that Rose realized she hadn’t heard the child speak at all, only cry out.
“Thank you for coming to look for me, doc. I got myself into a scrape.” She crossed her arms over her chest and followed him back toward the horses.
He smiled sheepishly and looked at the ground. “Don’t make fun. I am a doctor. I’m hoping the same town where you decide to stay needs me as well. It will be nice to put down roots.”
She blinked a few times letting this new bit of information settle in. “You’re a doctor? Why didn’t you tell me, and why didn’t you stay where you were?”
He wove his hands together be
hind his back walking next to her. “I only stayed for my aunt and uncle. My sisters are all married and happy. The town had two doctors: myself and my brother.” He looked away and his words were difficult to hear. “They didn’t need me...You did.”
His comment made her stop in her tracks. Pete only took her away from the reservation because no one else had offered. Now Morgan was here, saying the things she’d wanted to hear from Pete. He’d left because Morgan was there.
Pete didn’t care.
That had to be it. He’d never said he did, but he’d always acted like it until they’d left.
She wasn’t interested in Morgan, of that she was certain. He was older and didn’t understand where she’d come from and what she’d run from. It had never seemed quite the right time to tell him about it, either.
“Did you finish your business?” she asked, wanting to avoid the thoughts tumbling in her head.
He continued walking with her, nodding his head. “Yes. I have a paper, but even better, I got a tip. There’s a ranch maybe a day’s ride from here looking for help with the house, cooking, and a five year old girl.”
Rose perked up and smiled. “I could do that. Does the town need a doctor?”
“I won’t know until we get there. The name of the town is Little Springs.”
She let the sound of the name wash over her. Little Springs sounded like a peaceful haven, but only going there would reveal whether it was the right place or not. She smiled as she bounced herself up and into the saddle. They had a destination and the end of their long journey was in sight. She may not ever have to share what she’d been through with anyone.
Chapter Ten
Growing more restless with each passing hour, she tried to think of things other than what life might be like on a ranch in Little Springs to pass the time. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the stories Pete told her out of her head. As the sun dipped lower, she knew they wouldn’t make it all the way to Little Springs, and he would stop them for the night. One more night on the hard ground. Then...what?
Sure enough, Morgan pulled up his horse and she followed him. It wouldn’t do to argue. The horses were tired and so was she. Even if they made it to Little Springs, it wouldn’t be right to go calling about a job after dark and when they were hungry. Her stomach growled its agreement with her mind’s assessment.
She prepared the last of the vegetables from the sack and they sat in silence in front of the small campfire. After washing the dishes and placing them back in the bag, she didn’t know what to do with herself. They’d ridden longer than usual today and it was too dark to read.
Morgan pulled out a knife and began whittling a small piece of wood.
He flashed her a glance. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it to town today. I know you hoped we would.”
One side of her mouth tried to lift, but drooped instead. “I did hope, but we did our best and it wasn’t to be. I also wonder where Pete made it to. If he is close by...”
Morgan chuckled and his eyes crinkled in the light of the crackling fire. “I don’t think that boy’s as far away as you might think, and I hope he’s taken this time on his own to cool down his hot head and figure out a few things. I heard they’re looking for a cow hand or two on that ranch.”
She pulled her knees up to her face, tucking the long skirt under her feet. “You aren’t thinking of working with cows, are you?” She couldn’t imagine why a doctor would consider wasting his time as a hand.
“No, I’m not.” He flicked his wrist, and a long peel of wood shaved off the hunk in his hand. “But if Pete would learn to settle down a mite, he’d be good for the job.”
She hid her face in her knees. The topic of Pete was painful. “Pete told you he didn’t want our paths to cross again. He told me when we left the only reason he took me away was because no one else offered.” Her voice caught in her throat. “You came along and told me you’d take me, and then he left. Seems pretty plain to me he only cared...because no one else did.”
He leaned on one elbow, holding the knife out away from him as he regarded her. “The only thing I’ve ever done for you is read to you. I’ve never seen a man act more jealous in all my life. That man won’t leave you until you tell him to...At that point, his honor won’t let him stay. Your paths will cross again. Mark my words.”
He sat up again and positioned the knife. “Take care what you say to him when that happens. Right now, his pride is probably still in control, and it’s mighty bruised.” He made one last long slice with his knife, looked at what he’d cut, and handed it to her.
She took the piece, realizing it was a cross. She held it close as he rolled out his bedroll and turned his back to her.
Rose shut her eyes tight against the hope his words had caused. “How can you be so sure I’ll see him again?”
Morgan didn’t move or respond to her question.
She stared into the fire with her arms wrapped around her knees until the popping flames died down to glowing coals. Morgan had read to her, and she’d repeated, all of Genesis and Romans on this trip. Looking up, she saw the endless night sky and more stars than she could ever count or name.
She clutched the cross to her chest. “God, I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but the book about you says if I confess with my mouth and believe with my heart that your son died for me and rose from the grave, I will be saved. I’m asking that you take my confession and belief and save Pete...instead. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing but keep him safe, and maybe bring him back to me, God. Please.”
She spoke her prayer in a whisper. If Morgan heard, he might question her feelings. As much as she trusted him, she wasn’t ready to share anything beyond this time with him. She rolled out her own bedroll, banked the coals, and lay down to sleep.
She couldn’t relax. Every muscle in her body protested laying on the ground. The conversation that night replayed over and over, always ending with the promise to see Pete again. Her eyes searched the stars for any signs of the Heavens and this God of the Bible. Each time her mind settled down enough to sleep, something just outside of camp would make a noise and she would sit up and squint into the darkness to see what had made it. She was far enough from home now that she’d seen a few animals that weren’t familiar to her and she did not know if they were a threat or not. Try as she might, she couldn’t find the source in the darkness.
~~~
Pete knew he should go. He was too close to her, too close to her camp. He watched the flames of her fire dance and cast a glow on her hair. After a few weeks on the trail, he should have seen her as rumpled and filthy, but her hair shone in the light. She looked scared or distressed, and it pierced his soul to think he was at fault.
Morgan had been right. He hadn’t been far off ever since leaving. He’d never ventured more than a day ahead and once they’d hit Kansas, well, frankly, he was shocked Rose hadn’t seen him. He’d been a lot less careful than he should be.
Her prayer to the God of the nuns had rocked him. No doubt about it. His ears had picked it up and he couldn’t keep from listening. Pete slumped his shoulders against the chill of the night and again the pouch fell from the front of his shirt. The beautiful scent tickled his nose once more.
The God Rose had prayed to would have no use for medicine men or charms. Pete reached for the fragrant pouch and opened it. Inside lay dried and mostly crushed rose and lavender petals. The lavender scent reminded him of the oil Rose used to keep illness away in her home after her mother had died. Had the medicine man known of his feelings for Rose and that he would need a reminder of the woman who should have been with him?
Pete gathered the remnants and poured them back into his pouch, kissing it, and holding it between his hands.
“Thank you, Rose,” he whispered, tossing the bag into the brush.
~~~
The sun peeked over the horizon and she rolled up her bedroll, stiff and tired from the long night and lack of sleep. Morgan offered her a piece o
f dried beef for their breakfast and she gnawed on it with slow, lock-jawed movements. They cleared camp together completely, covering the fire with soil.
Mounting their horses, they continued on, knowing they should see Little Springs soon. The sun had almost reached its peak when the outline of a town came into view on the horizon, Rose gasped. He pulled his horse to a stop and she did likewise. They both dismounted and he walked over, a stern look on his face.
“I’d like you to stay here with the horse for now.”
She put her hands on her hips before he could even finish.
“Now don’t look at me like that. We don’t know how the people of Little Springs will take to an Indian. You also might want to take the time to do a quick wash-up while I find out where the ranch is that’s looking for help. They might not hire you if you don’t look clean and ready to work. I’ll probably be gone for three to four hours.”
As much as she wanted to argue and see the town, she had to agree. It wasn’t unheard of for Indians to be arrested simply for coming where they weren’t wanted. And he was right. Her dress had filth all over the hems from the trip. She nodded but her hands remained on her hips as she watched him mount his horse again. She wanted him to know she was unhappy about the situation. He looked at her and chuckled over his shoulder.
“Use that look sparingly, little Rose. You could melt steel with it.”
After Morgan left, she looked for a water source. Washing would be impossible without one. She spotted a string of trees in the distance. Taking the horse with her, she ambled toward what looked like a river. She was glad for an excuse to just walk. It didn’t take long, and the sound of the running water drew her in. She stepped up her pace until she reached the line of trees around it.
Stopping short on the bank, the river stretched in front of her. It was much broader than she’d expected. She slumped against a tree. Her hope had been for more of a creek. This was a wide, rapid river. Her heart beat in her chest and, unbidden, her mind flew back to the day her mother died.