Nola’s eyes widened. “You mean you gave yourself to him willingly?”
* * *
Fawn plunged another shirt into the rinse. “At first I was angry and hated all Indians. After all, one of them killed my folks. But as time passed, I realized the one who killed my family was just a bad apple. The Lakota have been much more accepting of me than my own race would be of one of them. I want to go home to my husband and have my baby. Shouldn’t that be my choice?”
“I reckon.”
Turning to her friend, Fawn twisted water from the uniform and sighed. “Have you ever been in love, Nola?”
“Naw. Ain’t ever had the time. We move around so much even if I saw someone I might be itching to meet, we’d be gone before I could introduce myself. Till I got here, I didn’t see many men my own age. There is one here I do have my eye on, Tyler... Private Tyler Kelly. He’s a good-lookin’ man. That’s how I get through all these clothes. I pretend every uniform belongs to him.”
Fawn glanced at the stack yet to be rinsed and pointed. “I’d say your Private Kelly has too many uniforms and a pretty dirty job.”
For once she made Nola laugh.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fawn sat on an upside down bucket and munched on the ham sandwich Eliza had sent with her. Two weeks had passed, and she hadn’t made any progress in finding a way home. Discouragement weighted her shoulders and stole her smile.
Nola pulled a bucket up next to her. “I’m so tired I could die. At least it would be a good long rest. Ain’t had one in so long.”
Fawn smiled. “I’m not that desperate yet.”
Nola opened her lunch sack. “Tell me more about your husband. I want to talk about anything except laundry.”
She took a huge bite of bread and waited.
Fawn stared into space, her mind filled with the image of her handsome husband. “Little Elk? At first, I didn’t much like him. His friend, Black Crow, was a bad influence on him. But once Black Crow left the village, Little Elk could be himself. He taught me how to speak the language, and...” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she blotted her eyes. “He’s handsome, kind, and very excited about this baby.” She rubbed her belly. “He wants a son.”
“He sounds very nice, although I’ve always heard that Injuns are heathens that kill and scalp people.”
“That’s not true,” Fawn snapped. “All most want is to be left in peace to live on the lands the government promised them, like the Black Hills. But now the Lakota’s sacred mountains are overrun by those in search of gold.”
“Like my uncle?”
“Yes, him and hundreds more. The government lied to the Lakota and took back the land they gave in treaty. Many of the tribes have been moved to reservations with dishonest agents who steal the money meant to buy food for the people. Those who still manage to remain free are being squeezed from their land, the land they love and respect. Would you not fight for what rightfully belonged to you?”
“I guess I would.”
“You bet you would. What if someone came here and tried to take your lunch this minute? You’d fight because you’re hungry, and it’s yours. Well, the Lakota hunger for their freedom and to have their land back. They don’t fight without just cause.” Fawn gazed into the distance. “I just want to be back with them before the baby comes.”
“When is the child due?” Nola asked between bites.
“I’m not exactly sure. I’ve never done this before. I expect within two months... Maybe sooner.”
Nola patted Fawn’s knee. “For what it’s worth, even though I’d miss you, I hope you find a way to get home.”
* * *
Fawn rested her hand atop Nola’s. “Me too, Nola, me too!”
* * *
Fawn’s stomach had grown inches in just the past week. The bib of her apron bunched up atop her belly, and it was hard to get her arms back to tie her bow. The girls at the laundry kidded her about waddling like a duck. She didn’t take offense, but agreed.
The baby moved about more frequently, making its presence known and demanding freedom from its cramped environment. She massaged the side of her pregnant belly. “Nola, come here. I think I feel a foot.”
She placed her hand on Fawn’s abdomen. “I think you’re right. I feel toes.”
“I’m so tired.” Fawn sagged against the wall. “It seems like I’m up half the night using the chamber pot. I used to go to the privy, but it got to be too much. I’d be twice as tired from walking back and forth all night. At least that disgusting Private Riley hasn’t been dogging me of late.”
Nola chuckled. “Of all the men I’ve seen around here, he’s the last one I’d want following me around.”
“I hope you never have to get close enough to smell him.”
“Are you kiddin’? My nose is so full of lye, I can’t smell anything anymore.”
“Believe me, you’d smell him.”
Thelma walked by. “Ladies, you two better get to work. You’ll end up here long after the rest of us have gone home.”
Nola grumbled and dipped her hands back into the hot water. “Work, work, work... I do this in my sleep. It’s no wonder my hands are the color of beets. I sure wish my uncle would find that darn gold, so I could get out of here.”
“There’s no gold involved in my wish. I just want to go home.” Fawn sighed as she picked up another pair of pants.
* * *
Eliza finished drying and putting away the breakfast dishes. She turned to the table where Grace sat. “Colonel Jamison can’t accompany me to church this morning. He’s off on some silly patrol again. Would you like to join me this morning?”
Years had passed since Fawn had stepped foot in a church. Her father had never been a religious man, so the family didn’t go. She had attended Sunday school with a friend and enjoyed it, but only for a short time when she was very young. Perhaps, church would be a welcome change of pace. “I’d love to go.”
“Good. Let me get the family Bible, and we’ll be off.”
“How are you doing in the laundry?” Eliza made small talk while they walked to the fort’s tiny chapel. “I hope it isn’t too tiring given your condition.”
“It’s tiring in any condition, but I’m doing all right.”
“You know, if I had my way, you wouldn’t have to work there at all.”
She patted Eliza’s shoulder. “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“You amaze me. I don’t know how you do it when you’re so close to having that baby.”
“I don’t see that I have much choice. Do you?”
“I guess not.” Eliza stopped and gestured toward an open door. “Here we are. Let’s find a place to sit.”
The church was almost full, but they found two seats together, sat, and opened their hymnals. The pastor signaled the congregation to stand for the first song and instructed them to turn to page sixteen. As Fawn thumbed through her book to find her place, voices raised in harmony to sing “Amazing Grace.” She glanced up to see Eliza smiling at her.
* * *
Fawn felt unusually tired. Steam from the wash tub spiraled up into her face. Overheated, she felt faint. She straightened for a moment, brushed back the wisps of damp hair that had worked loose from her bun, and heaved a loud sigh.
Nola looked up. “Are you all right?”
“Just feeling exhausted. Will this day ever end?”
After glancing around, Nola leaned in closer. “Do you still want to get out of here?” she whispered.
Fawn widened her eyes. “Of course. Why?” She kept her voice low, too.
“I’ve talked with my uncle about helping you.”
“Will he?” Fawn pressed her palms together and held them beneath her chin. “I’ve prayed for this moment.”
“He thinks there’s a way to get you past the guards. Of course, it’ll cost you. You know I wouldn’t charge you anything, but, well...you understand, don’t you?”
“Times are hard. How much?”
“How much do you have?”
Fawn did a quick mental calculation. “Last time I counted I had twenty-five dollars.”
Nola made a quick scan of the area again. “Keep it down. We have to make sure no one hears us.”
“Do you think your Uncle will accept the money I’ve earned in exchange for his help?”
“I’m sure that’ll be enough.”
Her exhaustion forgotten, Fawn’s heart pounded. “How soon?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
Thelma walked by carrying a new stack of dirty laundry and dumped it next to them. “I swear, I’m gonna have to separate you two,” she joked. “You’re like schoolgirls chattin’ away behind the teacher’s back. Stop the talkin’ and get back to work.”
Fawn turned back to the washtub. “Sorry, Thelma.”
“We’ll make plans at lunchtime,” Nola whispered as soon as Thelma walked away.
* * *
Nola and Fawn sat apart from the rest of the women while they ate.
“What’s your uncle’s plan?” Fawn was so excited she talked while she chewed.
Sitting on a bucket, Nola hunched forward. “There are so many wagons that come and go during the day, the guards don’t even stop them anymore. Usually I walk out the front gate, and Uncle Pete picks me up there. But he could drive into the fort and stop in front of the laundry and pretend to be dropping off a load. If the guards are watching, they would see him near the front of the wagon, but I could quickly help you into the back and cover you with a blanket. What do you think?”
“What about Thelma and the others?” Fawn looked over her shoulder.
“I believe close to quittin’ time would be best. Thelma is usually busy putting everything away, and all the others are getting their things together. You and I could clean up a little earlier and be ready when Uncle Pete comes.”
“This plan could work.” A smile crossed Fawn’s face. “By golly, it could work. I’m willing to try anything to get home.”
“Tomorrow night?” Nola asked.
Fawn nodded. “Tomorrow night, I’m going home. I can’t believe it. Thank you, Nola.” Happy tears stung her eyes. She wanted to express her thanks again, but the lump in her throat choked off her words.
* * *
Today, the work didn’t seem so hard or the water so hot and her back didn’t hurt nearly as much. Tonight, she’d leave all the daily drudgery behind and return home. Fawn was so excited, she found it hard to hide her glee. Instead of scrubbing dirty uniforms, she wanted to dance, sing, and yell at the top of her lungs. She viewed each piece of clothing as a step closer to her husband and friends. Any negative thoughts about what she might find upon her return were pushed aside in anticipation of the arrival of Nola’s Uncle Pete.
Determined not to do anything to bring Thelma around, Fawn stayed busy. While her fingers gripped each shirt collar and scrubbed them clean, she counted the minutes in her head and thought of Little Elk.
At lunchtime, Fawn joined Nola as usual. Fawn chattered at first, but unable to quell her worries any longer, her fervor faded to silence. Troubled by negative thoughts, she shuddered.
Nola nudged her. “Grace, what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”
Fawn wrung her hands. “I don’t dare say it aloud, lest it come true.”
“Don’t be silly. Saying it won’t make it so.” Nola shook her head. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“I guess you’re right, but I can’t stop thinking these horrible thoughts.” Her gaze locked with Nola’s. “What if Little Elk is dead. What if I go home and he isn’t there? He’s the real reason I want to go back.”
“I know he joined a war party, but you have to believe he’s there waiting for you. Chances are he made it home just fine.” She patted Fawn’s hand. “Don’t you worry. You and the baby will find him there waiting for you.”
“From your lips to God’s ear, Nola. I hope you’re right.”
* * *
The end of the workday approached. Fawn made sure tomorrow’s laundry was soaking, her own washtubs were emptied and dried, and her washboard and apron hung on their respective nails. She breathed a silent “thank you” that she wouldn’t have to wash another uniform.
While Fawn cleaned her work area, Nola stood near the rear door and watched for her uncle Pete. The smile on Nola’s face when she tapped Fawn on the shoulder conveyed the message she waited for. “He’s here,” Nola whispered.
Fawn’s heart pounded like the war drums at her wedding. She glanced around to make sure no one else watched then crept to the rear door. As soon as the wagon stopped, Nola placed a bucket at the back and prepared to help Fawn climb aboard.
Nola leaned close. “This may be too hard for you. I can lower the tailgate if you’d like.”
“No, I can make it. We don’t need any unnecessary noise.” Fawn hoisted herself up and over, dragging her belly across the splintered wood.
Nola clung to the tailgate and peered in. “There’s a blanket there. Throw it over yourself... And be careful. I’ll miss you, Grace...” Her voice cracked.
“And I’ll miss you. As a last favor to me, I wish for you to remember me by my Lakota name. Please think of me as Dancing Fawn. Grace Cummings is no more.” She patted Nola’s hand. “I’ll pray you find the happiness I have found.”
Fawn stretched out on the warped planks of the wagon floor and spread the cover over her body. Before ducking underneath, she touched her friend’s hand one last time. Tears welled in Fawn’s eyes. “Thank you, Nola. I’ll never forget you.”
Nola, her eyes damp, backed away and pounded on the side to signal her uncle. With a crack of a whip, creaking wheels turned, and the wagon lurched forward. Fawn hugged the floor and prayed that no one would stop them. Her body tensed.
Powdery dust sifted up between the gaps in the wood. Covering her face with both hands, Fawn tried to keep the dirt from her nose. Even a cough could give her away. The wagon’s movement caused her to bang her head against the floor, and a wayward splinter stabbed painfully into her hip. Each time the wagon jostled her she was reminded she was one step closer to the gates and freedom. She waited and prayed, feeling like she’d been in one position for an eternity. Her entire body ached.
The wagon halted. Listening for voices, she heard none. She wanted to poke her head out from underneath the blanket and take a deep breath but feared being seen. She remained covered and perfectly still. Suddenly, someone ripped the blanket from her. Her eyes widened in fright. Had she been discovered?
She focused on a white-haired old man with a long drooping moustache and a well-worn hat. His grin revealed missing front top teeth. He peered over the tailgate. “Well, you gonna just lay back there, or would you like to come up front and ride in comfort?”
Fawn struggled to a sitting position. “Are you Nola’s Uncle Pete?”
“In the flesh.”
“Did we...did we make it out without problems?”
He laughed loudly. “Would I be standing here inviting you up front if ‘n we didn’t?”
She buried her face in her hands. “We made it. I can’t believe we made it.”
Fawn looked up to accept his invitation, but he wasn’t there. The wagon dipped and creaked as he climbed onto the wagon seat.
He looked back at her and patted a place next to him. “Crawl on up her, little lady. It’s a little more comfortable, I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
A cool breeze caressed Fawn’s face as the wheels creaked along through the prairie grass. Still, she couldn’t relax and kept looking back through the wagon canvas to make sure no one followed them.
Uncle Pete made a clucking noise. “Will you relax, gal? Ain’t no one gonna come after us.”
“Are you sure?”
“If ‘n they knew you was missin’, they’d already be hot on our tail. I counted nigh on to fifteen wagons leaving about the same time—Conestogas, Prairie Schooners, and jes�
� plain old farm wagons outfitted with bonnets like this un here. Hell, even if they know’d you were gone, how’d they know which wagon you’d be in?”
She took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’m right. Trust me.”
“I will.” Tension drained from her rigid muscles. Her hunched shoulders sagged. “So tell me, did Nola tell you where I need to go?”
“She tol’ me you needed to travel up river. She didn’t say how far.”
“I’m not sure how far. I took two days to reach the fort from where I was taken prisoner, if that helps any.”
“Well, for the money you’re payin’ I s’pect I can get you close to where you need to be. You just have to make sure none of your red kinfolk decide to lift what little hair I have left.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t worry, Uncle Pete. I’ll make sure.”
* * *
The wagon’s rhythmic movement caused Fawn to doze. Her head bobbed, and her eyelids drooped. The constant creak of the wheels served as a lullaby.
“Whoa,” Uncle Pete yelled and reined the team to a halt.
She jerked awake and almost tumbled back into the wagon bed. Her breath caught in her throat. “What’s wrong?” She asked, scanning around the wagon.
“Nothin’ wrong. Figure we’ll make camp here and get an early start.”
His aging joints popped as he climbed down from the wagon seat.
Fawn stretched and arched her aching spine. “That sounds good to me. I’m really tired. It’s been quite a day.”
Clanking pots and pans piqued Fawn’s curiosity. She scooted to the end of the seat and peered around. Uncle Pete rummaged through a storage bin on the side of the wagon and pulled out a large iron skillet.
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