First Dawn

by Judith Miller

  Charles nodded as though he understood, yet his eyes were filled with anger. “Seems as though you just moved right in and made yourself a part of the family.”

  “Not without an invitation,” Thomas replied curtly. “Best I be going. I need to get busy with this plow.” He stalked off.

  Charles thrust his axe deep into the ground and then met Ezekiel’s puzzled gaze. “I don’t trust him, Mr. Harban.”

  “He’s been a mighty big help to me since we got here.”

  “I don’t think you should leave him alone with Jarena—I think he’s sweet on her.”

  Ezekiel rubbed the back of his neck. “We ain’t got time for no arguin’ or pinin’ over the womenfolk. There’s too much work needs done ’fore winter sets in.”

  The sun had barely begun to peek over the horizon the next morning when Thomas loosed a hobbled team of horses and led them to the wagon. With a quick precision, he hitched the team and then hoisted the plow into the wagon bed. Ezekiel had finished a warm bowl of mush when Thomas approached the lean-to.

  “The wagon be ready when you is.”

  Ezekiel nodded and waited until Jarena wrapped several chunks of corn bread in a piece of cloth and handed the package to him. “Gotta have me a little somethin’ to eat along the way,” he said before giving Jarena a hug. “Tell the twins I said to behave—and make ’em help you.”

  “You told them last night, Pappy, but I’ll remind them.”

  Thomas walked alongside Ezekiel to the wagon. “I’m feeling a mite guilty ’bout sending you off by yerself.”

  “No need. Think I might enjoy the time alone—just me and the Lord.”

  “And the horses. You might check with Mr. Goddard at the livery and see if he gots any cheap feed for the horses. We’re gonna need to find some way to nourish them this winter. I know the people come first, but I’s worried ’bout dem animals.”

  “I know, boy. I’ll see what I can do. Try to find enough to keep yerself busy.” Ezekiel laughed heartily, for he knew Thomas would have little time for rest.

  “I’ll have a go at it. And don’ you worry ’bout things back here. We be fine.”

  Ezekiel gently slapped the reins, and the horses stepped out. The wooden freight wagon gently swayed back and forth as it rolled through the thick buffalo grass. Thomas watched until the wagon was out of sight before returning to the lean-to.

  He picked up the axe and rested the wooden shovel handle across his shoulder. “I’ll be on the other side of the hill. I plan to start diggin’ today,” he told Jarena.

  She looked up from her mending. “I’m going to send the girls down to the river to fetch water so I can wash. If you have anything that needs laundering, you can put it in that pile.” She indicated an overflowing basket of clothes.

  “Looks like you’ve already got more’n enough.”

  “Few more shirts and overalls won’t make much difference. Besides, it doesn’t appear you’ll have much time for doing laundry.”

  A smile creased Thomas’s lips, and he hesitated only a moment longer before gathering his dirty clothes and adding them to the basket. “Thank you,” he said before heading off.

  “I’ll bring your dinner out to you.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and met her bright chocolate brown eyes. “That be nice. Maybe the twins could come along an’ we could eat together.”

  “I’ll see how far my washing and the twins’ chores have progressed by then.”

  Thomas nodded and trod off to the hillside Ezekiel had chosen for their temporary dugout. Even though Thomas and Ezekiel would begin their soddies out on their own land claims next spring, Thomas agreed with the older man: remaining near the other settlers throughout this first winter was prudent, even if it meant digging out a home they’d use for only a short time—at least that was their hope. The two men reasoned that they would salvage any sod bricks for later use in their new homes.

  Though he’d worked with the horses and breaking plow and had used an axe to cut sod bricks over the past month, this would be Thomas’s first day of digging into the hillside. Angling the shovel, he thrust it into the deep-rooted grass without success. Using his full weight, he pushed on the shovel and emitted a loud grunt when the spade finally wedged into the hardened earth that lay beneath the thick, grassy roots. He didn’t recall the work being quite so strenuous when he helped Mr. Horton down in Ellis.

  Perspiration soon dripped from his forehead, and the warm breeze did little to cool his sweaty body. He should have carried a jug of water with him, but perhaps Jarena would bring extra at noonday. If not, he’d go down to the spring himself. He swiped his shirtsleeve across his forehead and then gauged his progress. Digging out a hovel that would accommodate the Harban family might prove more difficult than he’d expected.

  The morning hours wore on, and the sound of axes and shovels being plunged into the ground fell into a rhythmic pattern that could be heard throughout the townsite. By the time noonday arrived, Thomas was anxious for Jarena’s arrival. When she finally rounded the hill carrying a cloth-covered basket, he heaved a weary sigh and dropped to the ground.

  She smiled as she lifted the basket off her arm. “You look tired. Are you thirsty?” she asked, offering an earthenware jug of water.

  He nodded and lifted the bottle to his mouth with shaking hands. She likely thought him ill-mannered, but he continued to take great gulping swallows until he could hold no more.

  “You nearly downed the entire jug,” she said before turning to leave.

  “You’re not gonna stay and eat with me?”

  “I left Truth and Grace rinsing the clothes. I best return. You can bring the basket back this evening.”

  “Please stay—jest for a few minutes. Did you eat yet?”

  She hesitated, and he quickly spread out the tattered cloth that had covered the basket before pointing to a spot where she could sit.

  “I suppose it won’t hurt to sit down for a few minutes, but I’ll eat with the twins when I return.”

  He scooted up beside her and looked inside the basket.

  “There’s some fish in there. Mrs. Wilson brought it over. I think Mr. Wilson would rather fish than dig,” she said with a giggle.

  “Cain’t say as I blame ’im. This dirt is hard as a rock. I been at it all mornin’, and dere’s all the progress I made.” He jerked his thumb toward the small mound of unyielding earth he’d dug out of the hillside.

  “Appears to be going slow for everyone,” she said. “Where’s your family, Thomas?”

  Her question was tossed at him with a nonchalant innocence that caught him unaware. He opened his mouth to tell her the truth but stopped short. “Here and there. Never stayed too long in one place, but iffen things go all right, I may just stay in Nicodemus. You ever lived anyplace ’sides Kentucky?”

  “No, Georgetown’s the only place I ever lived. Do you have friends or family in Kansas?” she persisted.

  “No, I don’. It’s excitin’ getting to see new places, don’t you think?”

  Jarena picked a tall blade of buffalo grass and began to wind it around her finger. “I would have been happy to live and die in Georgetown.”

  “Even with Charles Francis out here in Nicodemus?” His dark eyes twinkled as he watched for her response.

  She continued to wrap the blade of grass around her finger. “I doubt whether Charles would have left Georgetown if I was still there.”

  “I see. Well, Charles appears to be a nice enough fella, I s’pose.”

  The blade of grass fell to the ground. “And what does that mean?”

  “Don’t mean nothing ’cept I don’ know him well enough to say much more’n that.”

  “Charles is a fine man—just ask anybody.”

  “No need. I ain’t lookin’ to make Charles my friend, so it don’ matter what I think of him.” Thomas bit into a piece of the fried fish.

  “You think Charles isn’t worthy of your friendship?”

  Clearly sh
e was upset. Thomas broke off a piece of corn bread while he considered his reply. “I ain’t lookin’ for an argument, Jarena. I’ll take your word that Charles is a good man—ain’t got nothin’ to do with him being worthy of my friendship. For now, I’m not lookin’ to make any friends—’cept maybe you.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Don’t forget the basket.” She rose to her feet and hurried off.

  Thomas swiped his shirtsleeve across his mouth. “Now, why I’d go and say that aloud?” he muttered to himself. “Shoulda kept my big mouth shut!”

  CHAPTER

  11

  Word of Ezekiel’s return spread among the Nicodemus settlers like wildfire across the prairie on a windy day. They gathered together at a surprising pace and focused their attention toward the approaching wagon. Jarena waved a threadbare handkerchief high in the air while the twins raced pell-mell to the wagon. Their father smiled broadly, leaned back, and reined the horses to a halt long enough for both girls to clamber up alongside him.

  “Looks like he’s happy. Let’s hope dat’s a good sign,” Thomas commented as he walked next to Jarena.

  “Good sign of what?” Charles asked as he approached Jarena from the opposite side.

  “That he was able to bargain for a decent price on the supplies.”

  “If you were worried, maybe you should have gone along instead of spending your time trying to impress Jarena,” Charles said brusquely.

  The look of surprise on Thomas’s face didn’t escape Jarena—nor did the scowl that followed.

  “How would you know what I was doin’? I thought you was busy with yer own diggin’.”

  Jarena stood nearby as her father and the twins scrambled down from the wagon. “Any difficulty on the journey?”

  Ezekiel gathered her into a quick embrace and brushed a fleeting kiss upon her cheek. “Ever’thing went jest fine, daughter. Thought maybe I’d win over some of the Georgetown folks that’s recovered from the measles and they’d come and give the town a look, but that’s not gonna happen. They’s all made up their minds to go back to Kentucky. I was able to convince a few of them to loan me some extra money— not much, but enough to hep get some extra feed fer the horses.”

  “I’m worried ’bout food fer my fambly, not dem animals,” one of the new arrivals said.

  Ezekiel gave the man a warning look. “You best remember that dem horses is worth their weight in gold. They more than earned their feed when we was cutting sod, and it’s the horses that hauled our supplies back from Ellis. Without horses, we be in trouble for sho’.”

  While Jarena and the twins joined the other folks gathered around the wagon, Thomas grasped Ezekiel’s arm and pulled him aside. “Ya returned the plow?”

  Ezekiel nodded. “Mr. Goddard said he’d see it wuz returned to the owner.”

  “You didn’t take it to Mr. Horton?”

  “Didn’t have time fer goin’ to Mr. Horton’s place. ’Sides, you tol’ me Mr. Goddard’s an honest man. Why you actin’ so edgy ’bout that plow?”

  “I wanna be sure it gets back. I gave my word.”

  “Well, it got back to the livery, and that’s as much as you promised. Now quit yer worryin’. How’d things go ’round here while I was gone?”

  Thomas tugged on the frayed cuff of his shirtsleeve. “Charles been sniffin’ around where he’s not wanted. Otherwise, dere’s been no problem what I know of.”

  Ezekiel pulled off his hat and slapped it across his knee. “I knowed dis was gonna happen. Charles is sweet on Jarena, and you’s not likin’ it, are ya?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “No such thing. I’s not interested in Jarena. I was jest tryin’ to look out for her while you was gone,” he insisted.

  “Ha! Ya think I believe that nonsense? Don’t ferget that I was once young myself. I know how you young’uns think. Come on now and let’s get this wagon unloaded ’fore dark sets in.”

  Thomas scanned the contents of the wagon. “Looks like Mr. Hepple was well supplied.”

  “Sure ’nuff. The train got there with his supplies the day afore I did. Never seen so much fancy furniture sittin’ in a store. He tol’ me there’s a doctor comin’ to live in Hill City, and he shipped his belongings by train. Mr. Hepple agreed to keep the doctor’s belongings at his store ’til he arrives. Said the doctor even special-ordered farmin’ tools. Seems he’s bought a house, but he’s gonna do some farmin’, too.”

  Thomas scratched his head. “I never knowed a doctor to take up farmin’.”

  Ezekiel grinned. “I tol’ Mr. Hepple it pleased me a heap to know there might be someone tryin’ their hand at farmin’ that knew even less than we do.”

  “You know about farmin’, Pappy,” Truth said.

  “I knows ’bout growin’ hemp, and this here land ain’t good fer growin’ hemp.”

  “Can’t eat hemp, neither,” Truth said with a girlish giggle as she lifted a burlap sack of cornmeal from the wagon.

  Ezekiel was bone tired, and his back ached as he unhitched the team. He wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a night of sleep. However, his suggestion that they wait until morning to divide the supplies was met with a host of angry protests. Waving as much as his weary arms would permit, he finally silenced the crowd. “Do whatever you see fit,” he relented. “I’m too tired to argue. Jest remember that this here food’s gotta last us all winter—best be careful and use it wisely,” he admonished. Shoulders sagging, he grasped the reins and began to lead the horses away.

  “You go and rest,” Thomas offered. “I’ll take care of the team an’ then bring our portion of the supplies to the lean-to.”

  Ezekiel nodded. “Believe I’ll take ya up on that offer.”

  Grace’s eyes were shining with excitement as each bag of beans or rice was opened. “Can we stay and watch?”

  “If it pleases ya,” Ezekiel agreed.

  Jarena linked arms with her father and matched his stride. “I’ll come with you. I’ve got a pot of rye coffee boiling. Mrs. Wilson said a farmer’s wife told her how to make it when they were in Ellis. It’s not like real coffee, but it’s better than no coffee at all.”

  “Where’d ya get the rye?”

  “Mrs. Wilson. She said the farmer and his wife gave them some. Said they considered it an act of mercy. The Wilsons didn’t understand the comment until they saw this place. Then they knew why the couple had taken pity on them.”

  Ezekiel laughed wearily. “I bought some coffee, but it sho’ won’t be lastin’ all winter.”

  “Tell me what else you saw when you were in Ellis, Pappy. Is it a big town like Topeka?”

  “Ain’t nowheres near as big as Topeka. Only one street lined with stores, but there’s lots more folks livin’ ’round ’bout that area—farmers and the like. They got a good livery and blacksmith—and they was all nice to me. Didn’t seem to have no dislike ’bout doin’ business with a colored. They was all excited ’bout that doctor—all of ’em comin’ into the store to look over his furniture and making guesses about how much each piece cost. Mr. Hepple seemed to be enjoyin’ all the fuss.”

  Jarena’s brows furrowed. She couldn’t imagine why a doctor who could have a fine home and a normal life in any large city would want to move west. What could possibly entice an educated man who had been living in Kentucky to uproot his family and move to Kansas? She wondered if this doctor was like her father—trying to fulfill some distant dream. Did he have children? Were they like Truth and Grace, excited over the prospect of a new adventure, or were they like her— opposed to change?

  Ezekiel handed her his empty coffee cup when they got to the lean-to. “Some of the folks down in Ellis is hopin’ the doc will change his mind and settle in Ellis. Guess they ain’t got no doctor in their town, neither.”

  “But if he’s already bought land in Hill City . . .”

  “That’s what I said. Ain’t no way he’d be able to farm all them acres iffen they live in Ellis.”

  “If they’re wise, they’ll turn arou
nd and go back to Kentucky,” Jarena muttered as she balanced the coffeepot atop the hot ashes of the fire she’d been using to boil the wash water.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Georgetown, Kentucky • October 1877

  With a thud, Macia Boyle plopped onto the train seat and folded her arms across her chest. She molded her features into a glowering frown. It was the same unpleasant look she had been directing at her father for the past several weeks—or had it been even longer? At this point Samuel was uncertain, but he forced himself to smile graciously while settling beside his wife.

  No doubt this was going to be a long journey. Samuel looked about at his family members and momentarily questioned his decision to uproot them from all they held dear. He was uncertain who appeared more angry, Macia or Harvey. And his dear wife, Margaret, seemed completely forlorn.

  “Lovely day for traveling, don’t you agree?”

  Margaret gave a faint nod while Harvey and Macia continued to focus their icy glares in his direction. Perhaps he’d try again. “Our accommodations are quite acceptable, don’t you think?”

  Another nod and enduring cold stares were all Samuel received in reply. He leaned back in his seat and decided he’d wait until the frosty environment thawed before attempting any further conversation. Surely someone would soon have a question and be forced to speak. Macia opened a book and began to read while Harvey closed his eyes—likely hoping this was all a bad dream, Samuel decided.

  They had traveled only a short distance when Margaret shifted toward him. “I do hope our furniture has arrived. I won’t be able to keep a decent house without my own things surrounding me. I realize that such a concept is difficult for a man to understand, Samuel, but it’s true. Attempting to roll a piecrust or make biscuits is nearly impossible without your own bowls and utensils.”

  Samuel smiled and patted her hand. It had been years since his wife had prepared her own biscuits or piecrust, but this wasn’t the time to remind her of that fact. Such a comment would likely send her into another diatribe about Cook and the maid being unwilling to make the move west with them. He had promised to hire someone to help with the household duties, though he remained uncertain how or when he’d be able to accomplish that particular feat. At the moment, however, he needed only to allay his wife’s concerns over their household goods.