First Dawn

by Judith Miller

  “He didn’t exactly tell us the truth about Hill City, either,” Macia remarked. “At least I hope Father didn’t bring us to this desolate place knowing in advance what we would find here.”

  “Rest assured that I expected much more. However, I think your brother will attest to the fact that you would be most happy with this house once you saw the conditions in Nicodemus.”

  Margaret gave her husband a look of concern. “Tell me, what can we do to help?”

  Samuel brightened at the question. Perhaps Margaret would take hold out here in the West if she had something other than housework to pique her interest. After all, she had maintained a busy schedule of charity and church work back in Kentucky.

  He patted her hand. “I plan to return to Nicodemus in the next week or two to see about Nellie’s progress. Perhaps we could go to the general store and purchase a few provisions that I could take along. The men did tell me they have sent out a representative to seek assistance from larger cities back east. They’re holding out hope they’ll receive at least some supplies through that process. When I return, I’ll ask if there’s any specific help that we can provide.”

  Once again, Margaret began to massage the back of her neck. “Well, it’s just all too horrid! For the life of me, I don’t understand why any of you men think living out on the frontier is such a wondrous concept. And those poor women over in Nicodemus are likely wondering the same thing!”

  Macia scooted to the edge of her chair. “Could I go with you when you return to Nicodemus?”

  “I believe you’ll find the conditions far worse than I have described, Macia. I’ve offered to examine any of the settlers who need medical treatment, and I fear you’ll immediately want to leave. It’s probably best you remain at home.”

  “Harvey’s no more accustomed to seeing such conditions than I, and he appears to have survived the ordeal. Perhaps there’s some way I could be of help, too. I truly want to go with you, Father. I promise I’ll not utter a single complaint if you will please permit me this one concession.”

  Samuel knew Macia’s request wasn’t unreasonable, yet he wanted assurance he wouldn’t be forced to leave Nicodemus before administering aid to those in need. He had to admit that when difficult situations arose, Macia wasn’t always one to remember her promises.

  Macia gave her father a wary look. “You aren’t planning to stay the night, are you?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “No. Unless the weather should take an unexpected turn, we should be home in time for supper.”

  “Then I shall go,” Macia said and placed a kiss on her father’s cheek.

  CHAPTER

  20

  Macia selected two reading primers from a small bookshelf in her room and carried them downstairs to find Harvey waiting by the door. She had used both books while learning to read as a young girl. Although she’d been quick to chide her mother for loading their trunks with such items, she was now pleased the older woman hadn’t relented. Without a school in Hill City, it was obvious that parents would be the ones relegated to the task of educating their children. And in Lucy’s case, that would mean no instruction at all, at least so far as Macia could ascertain. Given her assessment of Jeb, it was unlikely he could read very well—if at all. And even if he could, she doubted that he would devote any time to such a chore. Macia was pleased she could at least supply Lucy with some additional reading material and spend a small portion of time helping the girl.

  When they arrived at the Malones’ a short time later, Lucy joyfully embraced Macia and tugged her inside by the hand but merely nodded at Harvey. “Jeb’s over at the barn. He said for you to go over there.” Without waiting for a response, she firmly closed the door.

  Macia grinned at the girl’s forthright behavior. Anyone who could stand her ground with Harvey was certainly an ally to be cultivated. “I’ve brought some books we can use for your reading lessons.” Macia handed the books to Lucy and then removed her coat and gloves. She watched with delight as Lucy began leafing through the primers.

  An infectious smile played on Lucy’s pale pink lips. “Where did you get such fine books?”

  “They were mine when I was a young girl, and my mother has kept them for all these years. Shall we begin?”

  Lucy bobbed her head up and down. “Let’s sit over by the fire where it’s warmer.”

  Macia picked up one of the straight-backed chairs and moved it closer to the fire. “Why don’t we begin with this book? You can start out by reading to me; then I can see where you need help.”

  Lucy began to read haltingly from the first page. However, with a bit of coaching, she became more confident and soon required little assistance. It didn’t take long until Macia found herself focused upon her surroundings rather than Lucy’s reading, her gaze flitting from place to place as she attempted to fathom what it would be like to live in such a hovel as this. Certainly Jeb had done much to make the dwelling habitable—much more than Harvey could have accomplished in the same circumstances—or any of the other young men she knew. He had plastered the inside walls to cover the sod bricks, and the furniture, though sparse, was arranged in a pleasing manner. There were even two windows flanked by neatly hemmed curtains. She wondered how long their parents had been dead. By Macia’s standards, the house was uninhabitable, yet there were many feminine touches showing someone had attempted to make the soddy livable.

  Lucy tapped on the page with her finger. “Do I read the next page?”

  “First I want you to tell me what you read.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me the story—in your own words. I want to be certain you truly understand what you’ve read.”

  “Why? I thought you said this was a reading lesson.”

  “It is a reading lesson, but if you don’t understand what you’ve read, then reading isn’t much help.”

  Lucy shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to explain the story in great detail. When she had finished, she gave Macia a whimsical smile. “How did I do?”

  “You did very well!” Macia complimented. “That’s likely enough reading for today, unless you’d like to do more.”

  “Would you help me fix my hair with the combs you gave me?”

  “Yes, of course. I was just noticing the pretty curtains. Did you hem them by yourself?”

  Lucy giggled. “No. I can’t sew, but I think they look very nice, too.” She began digging through a drawer and soon retrieved the combs, along with a silver filigree hairbrush. “This was my mama’s.” The child reverently stared at the brush.

  Macia’s eyes widened at the sight. “It is quite lovely.” There was no need to stretch the truth. The brush was obviously part of an expensive dresser set and seemed strangely out of place in these surroundings.

  “I have the matching pieces, too. Jeb says they’re mine to keep forever,” she confided as Macia brushed through her fine golden brown hair.

  “They are a wonderful keepsake. One day you can pass them on to your daughter.”

  “That’s what Jeb said, too.” Lucy’s lips curled into an impish grin. “I think he likes you.”

  “Did he say something about me?” Macia asked as she continued brushing.

  Jeb hadn’t said more than a few words to her since their first meeting, when she had rebuffed his invitation to go fishing. Granted, she had no interest in him, but knowing of his continuing attraction stimulated her ego. After all, she hadn’t heard from Jackson Kincaid since leaving Georgetown, and there was little to boost her self-esteem in this place. The few people in Hill City were too busy attempting to survive.

  “He thinks you’re pretty, and so do I. If you and Jeb got married, you could be my sister. Wouldn’t that be grand?”

  Macia needed to change the subject. “Do you have a mirror you can look in while I arrange your hair?”

  Lucy jumped up from the chair. “There’s one that matches the brush.” Once again, she dug through the drawer. “We have Mama’s wedding dress, too. I
t’s beautiful, and you could wear it if you and Jeb get married. This is a picture of Mama and Papa on their wedding day.” She held the brush in one hand and a framed picture in the other.

  The child was correct. The dress was quite stunning, and Macia wondered if Lucy’s mother had come from a wealthy family. Though why would anyone of affluence come to this place? She nearly laughed aloud at her thought. After all, her father was considered prosperous, and they had come west. Yet this small, poorly furnished soddy didn’t suggest a family of means. Perhaps Mrs. Malone’s family had disapproved of her husband and had disowned her when she married him. But surely they wouldn’t have purchased an expensive wedding dress for their daughter if they hadn’t approved.

  “Let’s finish my hair.” Lucy’s request startled Macia back to the present, and she picked up the brush.

  “Hold the mirror so you can watch how I twist your hair before inserting the comb.” Macia carefully twisted the child’s hair and then used the comb to secure her handiwork. “Now let’s do the other side. If you were going to a special party, you’d want to heat your curling iron on the stove and use it to turn up the ends of your hair, but we won’t do that today.”

  Lucy covered her mouth with one hand and chuckled. “We can’t anyway, ’cause I don’t have a curling iron.”

  Macia brushed Lucy’s remaining hair into place as Jeb and Harvey entered the soddy. The frigid air followed the two men into the room, and Macia shivered.

  “Well, doesn’t your hair look pretty,” Jeb told his sister as he pulled off his coat.

  A slight blush tinted Lucy’s cheeks. “Thank you. You think Mama would have liked it?”

  He nodded. “She would think you’re the most beautiful girl in all of the world. What’s this picture doing out?” he gently inquired, picking up the framed wedding photograph.

  “I was showing Mama’s pretty wedding gown to Miss Macia. I told her the dress is all packed away and if she married you, she could wear it and she’d be my sister. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right,” Jeb agreed. “All she needs to do is tell me when and where.” His lips formed an ornery grin. “But I don’t think she’s gonna agree. She’s got her a beau back east, remember?”

  Lucy looked across her shoulder at Macia. “But you could change your mind, couldn’t you?”

  Harvey winked. “Of course. She could.”

  “Please don’t listen to Harvey,” Macia said. “I hope to wed Jackson Kincaid. It would be best for you to plan on someone else wearing your mama’s wedding dress, Lucy.” She handed the girl her hairbrush. “I think we should be going home before the weather turns any colder, Harvey.”

  “Notice she said hope. Jackson’s probably found two or three girls to court since we left home,” Harvey teased.

  Macia pulled her coat from the wooden peg near the door. “Come along, Harvey. We need to be getting home.”

  Lucy directed an admiring gaze at Macia. “But he’d never find anyone prettier than you.”

  “Thank you, Lucy. You practice your reading, and if Jeb gives you permission, you can come to the house and let me check your progress. Why don’t you come on Sunday afternoon, and we can have tea?”

  “Can Jeb come, too?”

  “I don’t think Jeb would be interested in coming to tea. I’m sure he has other more important things to do.”

  Much to her dismay, Jeb shook his head. “Not at all. Sunday afternoon would be just fine. We’ll see you then.”

  “Thank you for fixing my hair and for the books. I’ll practice hard,” Lucy promised as Macia and Harvey bade them good-bye.

  Macia bit her lip until they were several yards away from the house. Then she doubled her fist and punched Harvey in the arm. “Why did you do that, Harvey? You think your behavior is amusing, but it’s not. I know you’re teasing me, but Lucy doesn’t. You’re giving the child false hope by telling her exactly what she wants to hear. She longs to have a woman live in that little house and become her big sister, and you’ve told her I might consider that option.”

  Harvey rubbed his arm as he walked alongside Macia. “I don’t know what you’re getting all riled up about. Jeb’s surely told Lucy he doesn’t stand a chance with you. But Jeb would be a better choice for you than Jackson—especially living out in these parts. Jackson would be even more useless than I am.”

  “Well, I don’t intend to live in Hill City. When Jackson and I wed, we’ll be living in Kentucky, so I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from encouraging Lucy to think I’ll marry her brother. And Jeb would not be a better match for me. Jackson and I are perfectly suited.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t count on Jackson. You know he’s got a wandering eye. Do you truly believe he’s sitting at home pining for you?”

  “Yes, of course I do.” But she knew neither she nor Harvey believed her reply.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Ten days later, with the gifts and supplies loaded into the wagon, Macia and her father headed off toward Nicodemus. The provisions would not be enough to help the fledgling community to any great extent, but the Johnsons were not scheduled to replenish their shelves until later in the month—and perhaps even until January or February if the weather didn’t cooperate enough to permit a journey to Ellis. Had the Johnsons been agreeable, Macia believed her parents would have purchased everything in the store. And though the Johnsons wanted to help the settlers in Nicodemus, they also needed to maintain stock for the local residents.

  Macia snuggled under a layer of blankets and thought back to their trip to purchase goods at the Johnsons’ general store. Mrs. Boyle had embraced their shopping venture with an enthusiasm that had surprised Macia. “We’ve been given the opportunity to bestow special gifts during the holiday season,” her mother had declared as they had entered the mercantile. Though her mother had attempted to equate the shopping endeavor with some of their family’s previous Christmas adventures, Macia had thought the comparison preposterous. After all, how could purchasing goods in the poorly stocked general store measure up to their yearly Christmas excursions and shopping in Lexington and Frankfort? However, Macia had tried to match her mother’s enthusiasm. After all, outside of attending church services on Christmas Eve, purchasing these necessities would likely be the height of their holiday celebration.

  At her mother’s insistence, Macia had located several pieces of ribbon and tied them around a few of the packages. “A bit of festivity is good for everyone,” Mrs. Boyle had declared.

  And likely she is correct on that account, Macia thought as the horses came to a halt in front of what appeared to be a burrowed hill fronted by sod bricks. “What kind of dwelling is this?”

  “It’s a dugout, but the hills are low, so they’ve added sod bricks to form the front of the house, along with rafters and thatching topped by more bricks to form part of the roof. Having this type of front allows them a window for more light, and they can use wood doors.”

  That “door” was no more than several wood planks nailed together, but she didn’t correct her father’s assessment. The town appeared much like Harvey had described: nothing more than a number of sod projections jutting outward from the hills. Macia shivered at the sight and wondered how anyone could survive the winter living in one of the gloomy dugouts.

  “Are they as terrible inside as they appear from the outside?”

  Her father shrugged. “They provide no more than shelter—you’ll find nothing luxurious about these accommodations.”

  Macia rubbed her hands to ward off the cold while her father knocked on the dugout door. “I don’t find our own home luxurious.”

  The door opened, and a broad-shouldered young colored man of about Harvey’s age greeted them. “Dr. Boyle! Didn’ ’spect to see you standin’ there when I opened the door.”

  Macia’s father shook hands with the young man. “I told you I’d return to check on Nellie.”

  “Yes, sir, I know dat, but, well . . . I guess I didn’ really �
��spect you’d come back. What with the weather bein’ so cold and all.”

  “And the fact that most white folks haven’t kept their word to you in the past?”

  “I s’pose that, too.” There was an awkward pause before the colored man asked, “This here your daughter?”

  “Yes. Macia, this is Calvin Harris and that’s his wife, Nellie. And if memory serves me correctly, this young lady is Jarena Harban. Am I correct?”

  The attractive young lady with bright chocolate brown eyes smiled. “That’s correct. Pleased to meet you, Miss Boyle.”

  Macia smiled in return. “Why don’t we dispense with formality and use our given names? After all, we are out here in the middle of nowhere. Please call me Macia.”

  “Thank you. I’m Jarena, and this is Nathan.” She proudly held the baby up for examination.

  Miss Hattie cleared her throat and leaned forward with a twinkle in her eye. “And I’s Nellie’s grandmammy, but ever’one calls me Miss Hattie—you can do the same. Take your coat off and set a spell.”

  Macia removed her coat and handed it to Calvin, who hung it on one of the pegs along the wall. The interior of the soddy was as dank and dark as Macia had imagined, but so far as she could tell, no one seemed to notice or care. Of course, she had no idea of what kind of homes they’d lived in before coming to Kansas. Perhaps they had lived in even worse, she decided.

  Dr. Boyle approached Nellie’s bedside. “I can see that young Nathan is doing well, but I’ve come to check on how you’re faring, Nellie. Any problems that need attention?”

  “I been doing perty good,” she said brightly. “My milk come in and Nathan’s been nursin’ real good. Granny and Mrs. Kemble been watching after me and say everything looks fine. And Jarena’s been comin’ over every day to help out.”

  “You had a rough time of it, so you shouldn’t try to do too much for at least a few more days. I’m glad to hear you’ve been helping, Jarena.”