First Dawn

by Judith Miller

  The sound of laughing voices and jingling bells skittered through Thomas’s head like mice chasing through the rafters. He drifted in and out of consciousness, the peacefulness of sleep drawing him back into its loving embrace. The jingling returned; his mare snorted and stomped and he awakened. Stillness blanketed the pure white countryside. Again he heard it. Jingling bells—and boisterous laughter. Forcing his aching, frozen limbs to move, he lunged forward and propelled himself out of the snow-packed enclosure.

  “Ho! Over here!” he called. He stood completely still and strained to listen.

  “Helloooo,” a voice returned.

  “Here! I’s over here!” Thomas shouted as he hurried to release the hobbles from the mare. He stood up, and in the distance, he saw a team pulling a box sleigh. With a determined yank, he pulled off his stiff hat and waved it high above his head. “Looks like we’s gonna make it, old girl,” he told the horse, unable to believe his own eyes.

  There were two men in the sleigh. Both of them appeared to be young—and white. For a moment, Thomas wondered if they’d help or leave him to die. “This ain’t the South—they’s gonna help you,” he muttered aloud, hoping the words would fortify him.

  He waved as the sleigh came alongside. “You lost out here?” the driver asked.

  “I’s from over in Nicodemus—tryin’ to make it to Hill City. We need a doctor real bad. We’s told there’s a doctor in Hill City.” His teeth continued to chatter long after he’d completed his reply.

  “My father’s the doctor. I’m Harvey Boyle.”

  The other man extended his hand. “I’m Jeb Malone, the blacksmith over in Hill City.”

  Thomas reached up to shake hands. “Thomas Grayson. Any chance you could haul me back to Hill City so’s I could talk to the doctor?”

  “Sure thing. Best tie your horse on the back of the sleigh. Looks like she could use some grain. Jeb’s the fellow who can help you out with that.”

  “That horse ain’t the only one hungry in Nicodemus,” he said as he tied the horse and then hoisted himself into the wagon. “I’m thankful fer your help. I hope I’m not causin’ you too much trouble.”

  Harvey emitted a boisterous laugh. “Jeb’s been trying to get me to take him back to town for a half hour, but this is quite a snow. I’ve been enjoying myself too much, so I refused. We don’t get snows like this one at home.”

  Thomas tensed at Harvey’s remark. “You from down south?”

  “Kentucky. We don’t get much in the way of heavy snow, and I wanted to come out here and enjoy a sleigh ride. Jeb is used to cold weather—he’s originally from up north, and he’d rather stay close to a fire.”

  “Is there more than one person sick over in Nicodemus?” Jeb asked Thomas.

  “No, and I wouldn’ truly say Nellie’s sick. It’s her time, and the baby won’t come. We got us a good midwife, but she ain’t had no luck gettin’ the baby to turn. You think your pappy’s gonna be willin’ to tend to a colored woman?”

  Harvey laughed and slapped his knee. “My father will be more than pleased to help. He took great pleasure in providing clandestine medical treatment to slaves before the war—much to the vexation of their owners. He cares little about the color of a man’s skin.”

  “Then ya think he’d be willin’ to make the trip to Nicodemus?”

  “Once he hears there’s a need, you won’t be able to keep him away.”

  Jeb turned on the seat and faced Thomas. “Did you sleep out in the storm all night—alone?”

  He nodded. “Just me an’ the horse.”

  A couple of miles farther on, they came to a community with several small structures and one large house. Thomas quickly surveyed his surroundings. From what he’d seen thus far, Hill City had progressed more than Nicodemus, but still, it wasn’t the town he’d expected to see rising out of the prairie.

  “You go in with Harvey and talk to Dr. Boyle,” Jeb said. “I’ll take your horse over to my place. I can rub her down and feed her for you.”

  Thomas wagged his head back and forth. “Don’ give that horse no feed. I ain’t got no money to pay ya.”

  “Give him some of our feed,” Harvey said before turning toward Thomas. “We’ve got plenty, and that horse is nothing but bones. Come on and we’ll talk to my father.”

  Thomas tipped his hat. “I thank you fer your kindness.”

  Harvey smiled and nodded. “Here in Kansas, folks have to look out for one another. Otherwise, most of us would perish. Jeb taught me that.”

  “Well, I know Jeb is right on that account ’cause we got us a whole passel of folks ready to perish over in Nicodemus—jest ain’t found no one to help look out for us.” Thomas followed Harvey up the few steps to the house and stopped on the front porch. “You tell your pappy. I’ll jest be waitin’ out here, and you can let me know what he says.”

  Harvey tugged Thomas by the coat sleeve. “No, of course not. It’s far too cold to wait outdoors. Come in.”

  Thomas glanced at the floor as they stepped inside the foyer. Their boots were dripping snow onto the carpet, and he wanted to go back outside. What if the mistress saw the mess he was making on her rug?

  “I thought I heard the front— Well, who have we here?” an older man inquired as he approached Harvey and Thomas.

  “This is Thomas . . .”

  “Grayson. Thomas Grayson. Is you the doctor?”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “I come to see if I could fetch you back to Nicodemus, Dr. Boyle. We got us a situation and we need help. One of our women, Nellie Harris . . . well, it’s her time, but the baby ain’t turned right and she’s in terrible pain, and the midwife ain’t been doin’ nothing to help and they sent me to get you and then—”

  Dr. Boyle held out his hands, palms forward. “Slow down and catch your breath. Here, come sit by the fire.”

  “I . . . I can’t. My britches is wet an’ dirty an’ . . .”

  Ignoring his protests, the man led him to a high-backed wooden chair. Once he’d warmed a little, Thomas told his story with clarity and speed, stopping only to take sips of the coffee and bites of the biscuit and ham Dr. Boyle’s daughter had brought him. When he was finished, he stood and walked anxiously toward the door. “You ready to head out?”

  The doctor grabbed his black medical bag as Harvey brought the sleigh up next to the front steps.

  “I hope my father is able to help your wife,” the doctor’s daughter said.

  “Oh . . . no, it . . . uh, ain’t my wife what’s having the baby. I jest volunteered to come get the doctor so’s Nellie’s husband could stay with her. I ain’t got no wife.”

  The girl gave him a gentle smile. “Then it was most kind of you to come out in this terrible weather to help someone else. Not many folks would be willing to place their life in danger for another. The Bible says that’s the greatest of all gifts—to lay down your life for another.”

  Thomas held the collar of his jacket closed and mumbled hasty words of thanks, but he silently wondered how she’d gotten the wrong idea about him. He hadn’t been trying to die for anybody, and he didn’t want this lady to think he was some kind of saint. He surely wasn’t.

  CHAPTER

  19

  While the sleigh moved toward Nicodemus, Harvey talked nonstop. He told Thomas about Georgetown and their move to Hill City, and he even repentantly related a few instances of his disorderly behavior while living in Kentucky. Thomas was stunned by Harvey’s revelations. Harvey didn’t seem the type of young man who shirked responsibility or disobeyed his parents. He had swiftly offered his assistance out in the blizzard and had even insisted upon feeding Thomas’s horse. Harvey admitted he was a changed man. While Harvey attributed the influence of Jeb Malone for the changes in his life, Dr. Boyle gave full credit to God. Either way, Thomas was thankful he’d met Harvey Boyle after he’d moved to Kansas rather than before.

  As they reached the outskirts of Nicodemus, they could see smoke rising from the low-lying hilloc
ks that made up the small settlement.

  Thomas pointed to the right, and Dr. Boyle turned the horses without hesitation. “That’s the Harris place over there,” Thomas directed.

  Harvey edged forward on the seat. “I thought you said they lived in town.”

  “This here is the town. It’s all we got right now. Over dere is Zach King’s place.” The words King’s Emporium had been carved into a thin piece of wood that was attached to the door. “Zach put up some shelves right inside his dugout door—calls it a general store, but it’s the home where he lives with his fambly. He ain’t got nothin’ on the shelves ceptin’ a few jugs of molasses and a little cornmeal he brought from Kentucky, but he says he’s gonna have the finest general store in town one day. I figure he’ll be usin’ that molasses and cornmeal to feed his young’uns afore much longer—if he ain’t already. Miss Hattie says Zach’s got him a general store that’s generally out of everything.” Thomas laughed. “But there ain’t nobody in Nicodemus doubting that ol’ Zach’s gonna have him a fine business one day.”

  Dr. Boyle pulled back on the reins, and the horses came to a halt in front of the Harris dugout. Thomas jumped down from the sleigh. “This here is Calvin and Nellie’s place. I’ll take ya in and introduce ya, Dr. Boyle, and then I’ll be on my way. I don’ wanna be in there, what with the baby coming and such.”

  Harvey’s eyes widened at the remark. “Me neither. I’ll wait out here in the sleigh.”

  “You can come over to the Harban dugout with me ’til after the birthing if ya like,” Thomas told him with a grin. “Jest wait right here.”

  Harvey propelled his head up and down as if he were priming a pump and settled back in the wagon while Thomas knocked on the door of the dugout. Calvin opened the door, his eyes shining with fear as he waved Dr. Boyle forward. Jarena stood up to greet the two men.

  “How’s the patient doing?” Dr. Boyle asked Jarena.

  “Not so good. I’m scared she might not make it. She’s weak, and Miss Hattie here is afraid the baby might be dead.” She tilted her head toward the old woman, who sat on a rocking chair near Nellie’s bed. “Oh, Thomas, it’s been horrible waiting for the doctor to get here.”

  His head dropped to his chest. “I did my best to get back as fast as I could, but the blizzard slowed me down more’n you can imagine.”

  “I know you did everything possible, Thomas,” she said, grasping his sleeve. “Please don’t think I was condemning you. We’re all grateful you went—truly.”

  He nodded. “I best be gettin’ out of here so the doctor can tend to Nellie. I’m takin’ his son Harvey over to your place until his pappy’s done here. Ya might point the way when he’s ready to leave.”

  “Of course. And thank you for everything, Thomas. You’ll have to tell me about your journey this evening.”

  Samuel Boyle neared Nellie Harris’s bedside. The girl had obviously been drugged, for she remained in a semi-conscious state during his preliminary examination. He turned toward Miss Hattie and arched his brows. “Laudanum?”

  “Midwife give it to her—had to do somethin’ to ease the pain. Only thing we got.”

  He nodded. He wouldn’t condemn. Folks had to do whatever they could in dire circumstances such as these. And there was little doubt Nellie needed relief from the pain. Thomas had told him the girl was young and strong, but she couldn’t physically endure days of birthing pains without something to relieve the agony. However, he hoped the dosage hadn’t been enough to harm the infant. The midwife’s assessment had been correct. Although Nellie was in labor, the baby hadn’t turned properly. The infant’s shoulder had lodged and now blocked the birth canal.

  With Nellie relaxed from the drug, Samuel knew what he must do. He cast an apologetic gaze at Calvin and then placed his large hands across Nellie’s abdomen. Using enough brute strength to force the child into position, he manipulated with a twisting motion that transported Nellie into a screaming wakefulness. Her earsplitting pleas shattered the room and sent Calvin racing outdoors.

  Dr. Boyle leaned over Nellie and took her face between his hands. “I’m not going to do that again, Nellie. The baby is turned, but you must now push as hard as you can. Your baby’s life depends upon you. Can you hear me?”

  She panted for breath. Beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip. “I’ll do my best.”

  Dr. Boyle smiled. “I know you will. I’m likely going to have to use forceps to help the baby down the birth canal. I apologize, but it’s going to hurt. The thing is, we’ve got to move quickly.”

  Samuel was correct. The birth was painful, but the baby boy gave a lusty cry as he entered the world. It was a good sign that the child would survive; he could only hope Nellie would do the same. The girl had suffered terribly, and she would need time to recuperate.

  Jarena handed Dr. Boyle a cup of weak coffee as the family began to discuss a proper name for the infant. The tenseness in his shoulders eased as he finally relaxed in a chair by the fireplace and took in his surroundings. He couldn’t be absolutely certain in the dim light, but the interior of the dugout appeared to be no more than sixteen by twenty feet. From what he could see, it looked as if the dwelling had been thoughtfully constructed using as much of the hillside as possible and then building up the sides with sod bricks so that under the eaves the height was about six feet. The fireplace took up one end of the room, and the remainder was filled to capacity with two beds, Miss Hattie’s rocker, a makeshift table and chairs, and several trunks. Shelves and pegs had been lodged into the walls and were laden with clothing and sundry belongings. The room was tidy, though Samuel wondered where the baby would find room to play once he began to toddle about. They’ll enlarge their dwelling by that time, he told himself as he downed the last of his coffee.

  He stood up and handed his empty cup to Jarena. “Decided upon a name?”

  Nellie gave him a weary smile. “We decided on Nathan Samuel Harris. We don’ want him to ever ferget the man who helped bring him into dis world.”

  “I’m honored. Now, you must all promise that Nellie will stay in bed and rest. I plan to return and check on both her and little Nathan very soon. However, I believe I best find my own son and head home.”

  Jarena jumped to her feet. “He’s gone to our house. I’ll show you the way, Dr. Boyle.”

  After leaving further instructions for Nellie’s care, Samuel donned his coat. He knew the family would do their best, but with so little food, Samuel wondered if Nellie would gain enough strength to rebound from her ordeal. She’d lost a great deal of blood, and he worried she might not recover. He’d have to find some way to help.

  Harvey’s silence was unsettling. Though the boy wasn’t given to intellectual conversation, he had remained unusually quiet throughout their return to Hill City. “Feels good to be home, doesn’t it?” Samuel asked as they pulled up in front of the house.

  Harvey gave a somber nod. “Never thought I’d be glad to see this house, but I am.”

  Samuel patted his son on the back and chuckled. “Amazing how much more we appreciate what we have once we realize there are others with much less, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not certain that’s the answer,” he said, his brow furrowed. “I knew most of the coloreds in Kentucky didn’t live as well as we did, but it didn’t bother me. Why is this so different?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps because you’ve never before been confronted by so many people in dire circumstances. Or perhaps because you’re beginning to mature and think of others rather than yourself.”

  “They need help, Father.”

  Samuel nodded as he opened the front door. “You’re right, but the matter needs more thought than I care to give it out here in the cold. Let’s go inside.”

  Margaret fluttered to greet them and immediately announced supper was waiting, though Samuel noted she was massaging the back of her neck. Likely she was suffering another of her headaches, which would probably lead to several days in bed. He wondered if his wif
e sometimes used her headaches and melancholy to escape dealing with life. She’d certainly taken to her bed more frequently since settling in Kansas. The thought caused him a twinge of guilt, especially since he was a doctor and had been able to do nothing to ease her spells.

  “Take off your coats and come sit down. I’ve a hearty stew and freshly baked bread. Both Macia and I are anxious to hear all the details of your mission of mercy. We can eat as soon as I dish up the stew.”

  While they ate their supper, Samuel detailed their journey and the birth of the child, stopping to answer his wife’s occasional questions and listen to her words of praise for his ministrations. Once he’d answered all her questions concerning the birth, Margaret insisted upon details about the small community.

  Harvey wiped his mouth and placed his napkin by his plate. “They don’t even have enough food to feed themselves.”

  “It’s a tragic situation,” Samuel agreed. “I don’t know how those folks are going to make it through the winter. Unfortunately, the information we received at the Ellis train station proved to be correct. The town they were promised is not there.”

  Leaning forward in his chair, Harvey captured his mother’s attention. “Many of them have feelings of deep hostility toward Mr. Hill.”

  Samuel took a sip of his coffee and thought of the weak brew he’d been served in the Harris dugout. “And rightfully so. He deceived all of them and has left their group in a situation that would test even the most adept frontiersman.”

  “It appears Mr. Hill is not a man to be trusted, yet I would like to believe he will return and give some justification for his behavior.” Margaret poured a dollop of cream into her coffee and began to stir. “I don’t want to believe that he would callously leave people in dire straits merely to promote his own financial gain.”