The Crossed Sabres

Home > Other > The Crossed Sabres > Page 12
The Crossed Sabres Page 12

by Gilbert, Morris


  “I—I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Then I must speak plainly. What if one of our church members had come to this house and found you and Pastor Crenshaw alone?”

  Faith stared at her, dismayed. “Why, surely there’s been nothing—”

  “Ah, but there is!” Ada Crenshaw cut in, her eyes hardening. “The Scripture enjoins us to avoid the appearance of evil.” Her lips curved down at the corners, and she shook her head with distaste. “I must say I am surprised at my husband’s lack of discernment, but he’s a very simple man.”

  Which means he doesn’t know how to keep designing women like me from snatching him away from his wife, Faith thought. Anger rose in her at the accusation, but then she felt pity for Willis Crenshaw. The poor man was in for a tough time, she realized. “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw,” she murmured. “In the future, I’ll be more careful.”

  After that incident Ada Crenshaw never gave her husband any opportunity to be alone with the new missionary. She went with them to meet with the mission board, and in the house Mrs. Crenshaw never took her eyes off either of them. Meals were a torment, for Faith had to analyze every comment before she spoke, lest she offend the woman. The situation had become unbearable to Faith. The pastor, too, was going through a private hell of his own, which was evident by his harried expression and nervous manners.

  ****

  Faith brought her mind back to the present, gave her hair one last vigorous stroke, and walked out of her bedroom. With a serene expression, she went straight to the breakfast table. She waited until the meal was finished; then over coffee, she said in a casual manner, “I’ve decided it would be more convenient if I lived close to the school, perhaps in the same building.”

  “Why, that would never do!” Crenshaw exclaimed. “The station is in an isolated location, has no conveniences, and the building itself is not fit to live in.”

  “I don’t mind that.”

  Mrs. Crenshaw fixed her steely gaze on Faith. “It’s not a thing a woman should do. Reputation is everything, and people would talk.”

  Faith looked at her, curious. “People will always talk, won’t they? The important thing is the work, and if I live as a Christian woman should, anything contrary would just be gossip.”

  “That may be so,” Crenshaw said, “and it may also be true that you’re not afraid of hardship; but the fact is, Miss Jamison, it wouldn’t be safe for you. This isn’t St. Louis, you know. The men around here are rough—very crude. A single woman living in an isolated location would be a temptation for them.”

  Faith listened to their arguments—or to Mr. Crenshaw’s, at least, for after her first remark, Ada appeared to give up. Finally, Faith said, “I feel very strongly about this, Pastor Crenshaw. I don’t want to be stubborn or rebellious to authority, but it’s something that the Lord seems to be telling me to do.” She smiled and added, “Let me try it for a few days. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another way.”

  Crenshaw argued against the idea, but discovered that Faith was not to be moved. He finally gave up, saying, “Very well, it’ll be as you say.”

  “Thank you, Pastor,” Faith said. “I’ll have my things ready in an hour. Could you take me to the mission this morning?”

  “Well, I suppose so,” the minister said, but after glancing at his wife, said hastily, “But I remember that Brother Owens said he’d like to go. He mentioned he’d like to take a couple of his clerks out there and give the place a good cleaning.”

  Poor man, Faith thought, for it was obvious that he was in bondage to his wife. So it was with great relief when Faith saw Owens drive up. He and the pastor loaded her things in the wagon, and when they were secure, Faith said to Mrs. Crenshaw, “I so much appreciate your hospitality. You’ll be coming out to visit me when I get settled, I hope?”

  “Why, certainly!” Mrs. Crenshaw gave her husband an uncertain look, then nodded, “Yes, we’ll both come.” She hesitated for a moment. “Be very careful, sister—and if you need help, just call on us.”

  As they drove away, Owens gave her a half-concealed smile. “Glad to be leaving?” He saw that she was startled by his question, then shrugged his shoulders. He was a plain man, but highly intelligent and had known the Crenshaws for a long time. “Ada’s a fine woman,” he remarked casually. “But she’s not too secure where her husband is concerned.” When Faith turned to him with a question in her eyes, he added quickly, “Didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Pastor Crenshaw’s not a man to look at another woman, no more than I am. But Ada just can’t believe that she’s got a man who’ll care only for her. She was late marrying, you know—over thirty. She thought she was fated to be a spinster.”

  Faith realized Owens was presenting Ada’s side, and she appreciated that. It revealed a man of great compassion. “I’m glad you told me, Nick. It helps to understand better.” Her face broke into a smile, and she touched his arm, saying, “You wait and see! She’ll learn to trust her husband to me before I’m through!”

  Owens looked at her approvingly. “I’ll bet you’ll do it. You’re a clever woman, Faith—and a stubborn one, too. You’ll need some of that to make this school work.”

  The morning air was clear and sharp as they drove along the narrow road, rutted and weathered and lined by scrub pine. They crossed a creek, which Owens informed her got too deep to cross during rainy seasons, except at a ford three miles south of the road. The road meandered aimlessly across the land, now dodging into the jaws of a small canyon that led between the jutting brows of twin hills, then circling around a towering butte. Finally Owen said, “There it is.”

  Hmm, Faith thought. Not very impressive. The barn-like structure, with missing boards here and there, had weathered to a silvery gray. Next to it stood a small shack with a door and two windows in the front. Behind the barn a makeshift corral of sharpened stakes had been put up. The place looked abandoned, but Faith was undaunted. “Oh, this will be fine, Nick!” she said.

  He had been expecting a different reaction. “Pretty poor doin’s.” He shook his head. “Going to take a lot of work. I’ve hired two men to come and put things right. They’ll start in the morning.”

  “Come on,” she said, jumping excitedly to the ground. “Let’s see if the roof of the house leaks.” She ran ahead while he tied the team to a fence post driven into the ground for that purpose. “The roof looks tight, Nick,” she said when he stepped inside. “We can put my things in here.”

  “Not yet. You can’t stay here until we get the place fixed up,” he replied, shaking his head. “I didn’t know it was in such bad shape.” He looked around morosely, noting the trash of empty cans and bottles, the stovepipe hanging sloppily over the bigbellied heating stove, spilling soot everywhere, and the broken glass on the floor. “Got to get new glass in all the windows,” he commented, then walking around the room and passing into the other room, added, “Take at least two or three days to get this cleaned up.”

  “Send the men in the morning,” Faith suggested. “I’m staying here tonight. Is there a well?”

  “Yeah. Fortunately it’s a pretty good one,” he admitted. “That’s the best thing about the place. Only trouble is that everyone knows it. The hunters and Indians use it a lot.”

  “Good!” she nodded. “I’ll get a chance to preach to them.”

  Owens scratched his head and stared at her, then smiled. He was not an impressive man, but he was solid, a person who knew quality in man, woman, horse, or dog. Finally he said, “Let’s go back to town. You’ll have to pick out your furniture, get groceries, get lumber ordered for desks and stuff for the school. You’ve got to have a horse and wagon, too, and a whole list of things to get this thing started. Tomorrow you can come back with the carpenters. They can stay until the job’s done. They’ll bring some blankets and sleep in the barn, but you’ll have to cook for them. How’s that sound?”

  Faith smiled. “I may be stubborn, Nick, but I’m not unreasonable. I’ll do just as you
say. All right?”

  Fully expecting an argument, he was taken off guard by her compliance. “You are a dangerous female, Faith!” he stated. “Know how to get your own way, don’t you? And then turn right around and make a man feel good about lettin’ you have it.” He laughed, slapped his hat on, and said, “Let’s get back to town before you get any more ideas!”

  ****

  “Get your house fixed and your daughter settled; then you can get started with the scouts,” Captain Moylan said. Moylan, a stocky man with a broad, plain face and a heavy sandy-colored mustache guarding his upper lip, was captain of A Company. He was known for being tough, but he was fair and understanding since he had children of his own. “We’ll see that she gets a ride to school and back, Sergeant. But who’s going to look after her when you’re on patrol?”

  “Mrs. Jennings offered to help,” Tom replied. “I’ll see if I can hire some woman to stay with her when I’m out.”

  “Be a good thing for Eileen,” Moylan nodded. “She gets lonesome. The girl will be company for her.”

  Winslow borrowed the wagon from the quartermaster in Eileen’s name and drove across the river to town. He was sober, even gloomy, for since he’d seen Spence Grayson, his whole world had shifted. Old angers he thought long dead had come alive, making him keep a tight rein on his words. Only when Laurie had asked, “Are you mad at me, Daddy?” did he grasp what the sight of the man was doing to him.

  As he drove down the dusty street and pulled up in front of Owens’ hardware store, the sight of Faith Jamison coming out with a heavy box helped him shrug off his mood.

  “Let me get that,” he said, taking the box. “In the wagon there?”

  “Yes.” She watched as he placed it in the wagon, then smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, Tom. How’s Laurie?”

  “Fine. We’ve got a house.” His lean face lightened with a smile as he added, “It’s good for Laurie. She’s turning out to be a real housekeeper.” His eyes flitted from the wagon back to her. “Looks like you’re buying the store out.”

  She explained her new situation, her face flushed with excitement. “I’d like to start tonight, but Mr. Owens made me come back and wait until tomorrow.”

  “Good idea,” he said. “Where are you staying tonight?”

  “Why, I’m not sure.” She had been so busy with her shopping that the idea of a bed for the night had not occurred to her. “I suppose I could go back and stay one more night with the pastor and his wife.”

  He caught a tone in her voice that told him she didn’t really want to do that. “Come and stay with Laurie,” he said. “We can have supper, and Laurie would like it.” He hesitated, then added, “So would I.”

  “But it wouldn’t look good, Tom.”

  “Why, I didn’t mean—!” He grew red with embarrassment and said quickly with some awkwardness, “I’ll stay at the barracks, of course. Just thought it would be good for Laurie to have all the women friends she can.”

  She was amused at his embarrassment and said, “I think it’s a wonderful idea. I have some books picked out for her, and this way I can take them myself.”

  He made his own purchases, then helped her load the wagon with more packages. Finally, Nick Owens said, “Miss Faith, that wagon won’t hold any more. I’ll get the lumber on another one, and you go get a good night’s rest. Be here at dawn, and I’ll ride out with you.”

  “Thank you, Nick,” Faith said. “I’ll be here.”

  She got the books for Laurie and a small case, then let Tom assist her into his wagon. The night air had turned cool. “Winter’s coming soon,” Tom said. “Be sure you have plenty of wood cut. This weather can be a hungry wolf sometimes.” He admired her covertly, taking in her high color and the brightness of her eyes. At the same time, he was afraid of his impulses, for he had built such an impenetrable wall around himself as far as women were concerned that he wasn’t sure how he should act.

  When they arrived at Tom’s place, Laurie came bursting out of the house. She hugged her father and greeted Faith warmly. “Miss Eileen let me make most of the supper, Daddy!” she cried, then asked, “Are you going to eat with us, Miss Faith?”

  “She sure is,” Tom nodded. “And she’s going to spend the night with you. I’ll have to go to the barracks, so you two can talk about books all night.”

  Eileen had watched them from the window and met them as they stepped inside.

  “This is the new missionary, Faith Jamison,” Tom said. “And this is Mrs. Jennings.”

  The two women spoke, each with some restraint. It was a delicate situation, for Eileen had no idea what Tom’s relationship with the attractive young woman was, nor did Faith know why the woman was in his house.

  But Laurie broke the ice, getting them all to the table as soon as possible. And when they sat down, Tom said, “I wish you’d bless the food, Faith. I do a sorry job of it.”

  Faith asked a brief blessing, then was generous with her praise of the meal as they began to eat. “This roast is so good!” she exclaimed. “Better than I’ll get from now on. Unless you’ll come and help me cook sometimes, Laurie?”

  Tom saw the curiosity on Eileen’s face and explained that Faith had come to Dakota to open a school for Indians. Neither Tom nor Faith missed the slight hardening of Eileen’s face at that information, but it was obvious she was not impressed. Tom thought, She probably hates Indians for killing her husband. He changed the subject immediately, and the rest of the time went very well. After they were finished, Eileen rose and said, “I must leave as soon as the dishes are done.”

  “You’ve done enough,” Tom smiled. “I can’t thank you enough, Eileen. But don’t run away so soon—”

  Eileen shook her head, and after saying good-night to them, she gave Laurie a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear,” she said, then turned to Tom. “If you get called out, please leave Laurie with me.”

  “That’ll be a help,” he said warmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” When she was gone, he said, “Now, you two can look at books, and I’ll do the dishes.”

  Laurie was enthralled over the books that Faith had brought, asking her one question after another. Tom watched them as he cleaned up the kitchen. He was happy for Laurie. When he finally came to sit down beside them, Laurie showed him the books, going over all the pictures as one by one Tom exclaimed over them. After a while he said to Faith, “I’ll have to find a way of making this right with you. Maybe I can do some work on your school.”

  “Oh, I loved doing this! But if you really want to help, tell me about the Indians.”

  “What about them?”

  “What they’re like. What I should do to reach them. What I should be aware of. There must be mannerisms we have that would offend them, customs I’d never think of.”

  That was the beginning, and for the next two hours, Winslow talked. Laurie read for a while, then came over to sit beside him, looking up at him as he talked. He had a vast knowledge of Indians and respected them. Faith said little, but soaked up his words, storing them up for future reference.

  Finally he rose, with an embarrassed laugh. “Never talked so much in my life! Getting to be a regular bore.”

  “No,” Faith countered, coming to stand beside him. “It’s been so helpful, Tom. I can tell that you love the Indians—many people don’t.” She hesitated, then asked, “Tom, I . . .don’t like to ask for help, but I know so little. I’m willing enough, but there’ll be times when I won’t have the least idea of what to do. If you’d just . . .”

  When she hesitated, Tom said, “Be happy to do what I can. The school is a good idea, but some of the tribe will be against it. I know one or two of the leaders. Maybe I can put in a word for you.”

  He was surprised to see tears in her eyes, and even if she turned away so he wouldn’t notice, saying nothing, he understood her a little better. She was a courageous woman, but she was being thrown into a world so different from the one she’d known that she was somewhat apprehensive. The s
udden glimpse of vulnerability he’d seen made him say, “Faith, you can do it. These people are going to be hurt. They need to see someone who cares for them—someone with a white skin. I can’t think of anyone who’d do better at it than you. You don’t know the language, but if you love them and are kind to them that’s a language we all understand.”

  Faith brushed the tears away, then turned to face him. “Thanks, Tom. I . . .I needed to hear that.”

  He kissed Laurie, who had been listening to them, and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he nodded to Faith. “I’ll be here early to take you to Bismarck. Laurie, you can go, too.”

  When the door closed, Laurie said, “I saw you crying.” She came closer and said shyly, “I didn’t know grown-ups cried.”

  “Sometimes they do, Laurie.”

  Laurie hesitated, then put her arm around Faith’s waist. “It’ll be all right. My daddy will help you!”

  “And will you help me, too, Laurie?”

  “Me? Why, what could I do?”

  “You could ask Jesus to keep me safe from harm.”

  Laurie looked at her wide-eyed. “But—I don’t know how to talk to Jesus!”

  Faith gave her a warm hug. “Then maybe I can teach you how to do that, Laurie.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Nothing Ever Dies”

  Lieutenant Charles Varnum looked less like a soldier than any other officer of the Seventh, but Tom Winslow soon discovered that beneath the deceptive appearance lurked a tough, hard fighting man. When Winslow walked into Varnum’s office early Friday morning, the man before him resembled an unsuccessful banker or a Boston shoe clerk. A fussy-looking individual, thin and pale, with a high balding forehead and a carefully trimmed mustache overlapping his lips.

  The steely look in the officer’s brown eyes reminded Winslow of Sergeant Hines’ words: He don’t look like much, but he’s tougher’n whang leather. He knows something about Indians, too, which this outfit is gonna need pretty soon.

 

‹ Prev