Heart of the Sandhills

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  Thomas Quinn grasped Aaron’s hand. “And just how do you know them—if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Genevieve Two Stars is my stepmother,” Aaron said, “and Daniel is a good friend.”

  The clerk behind the counter nearly swallowed his cigar.

  “Your stepmother?” Quinn said. He looked Aaron up and down. Then, with a sideways glance at the clerk; he thrust out his hand and smiled warmly. “Then you’d be Aaron Dane.”

  Aaron’s blue eyes smiled. “Yes.” He grabbed Quinn’s hand and shook it again. “Yes. You know them?”

  Quinn nodded, then shrugged. “Can’t say as I know them real well, but my missus has been quiltin’ with Mrs. Two Stars and Mrs. Lawrence, and we’ve tried to be neighborly.” Quinn smiled. “My Lydia says, Mrs. Two Stars talks about you and your sisters a lot. She said you’d be comin’ to visit.” He cleared his throat. “We were right sorry to hear about your sister. I hope she’s doing better.”

  “Thank you,” Aaron said, “she is. Just not ready to travel. I promised her we’d come again next summer when she’s stronger.”

  “You don’t mind waiting while I do a little shopping, I’ll take you out to their place. I go right by it on my way home.” He nodded toward the door. “My team’s dapple gray.”

  “Great,” Aaron said, “that’s great. Thank you.” He headed for the door.

  Quinn handed the clerk his list.

  Reaching behind him to retrieve a spool of thread, the clerk said, “Ain’t that somethin’. A white boy calling a squaw his mama. Bet his real mama don’t like that one bit.”

  Quinn turned away. Walking to the back of the store, he rummaged for a box of nails. When the clerk made another reference to Aaron’s blond hair and Genevieve Two Stars’s blue eyes, Quinn cleared his throat. “Just fill the order, Harley,” he said abruptly. “I got to get home.”

  “Now calm down, Abner,” Jeb pleaded. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervously at the half-dozen men gathered on his front porch, rifles in hand. “Let me set my coffee cup down,” he said. “I’ll be out. We’ll talk things over.”

  “Nothin’ to talk about,” Abner said loudly. “You’re getting rid of those thievin’ field hands of yours today—or we’re doing it for you.” He raised his rifle in the air and was only prevented from firing by Jeb’s grabbing the barrel.

  “No reason to be scaring my boys, is there?”

  “All right then,” one of the other farmers answered. “But get out here quick. We got business.”

  Jeb backed inside and closed the door in his neighbors’ faces with a trembling hand. He took a deep breath and headed upstairs where Marjorie was putting the twins down for a nap. “There’s trouble,” he said. “Bad trouble, I’m afraid. Abner’s convinced himself Daniel is some kind of horse thief.”

  Marjorie snorted indignantly. “What nonsense.” She started to laugh. “I’ll make them all my special coffee cake. They’ll settle down soon enough.”

  Jeb shook his head. “I don’t know, Ma. They’re awful riled up about this.” He took his wife’s hand. “I’m going to herd them all into the barn for a meetin’. The minute we’re all inside, you run down and warn Daniel and Robert. I hate to say it, but it might be good for them to make use of the trader’s place up near the old Redwood Agency. Tell ‘em I’ll come for ‘em soon as it’s safe.”

  Marjorie’s chin trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “But Nancy’s about to have the baby, Jeb. They can’t just be running off somewhere. Not now.”

  Jeb paused at the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. “You get down there as soon as you see we’re all in the barn, you hear?” With a glance toward the other bedroom he said, “We’ll just have to hope the boys sleep through it.” He hurried down the stairs.

  “But Abner,” Jeb Grant protested, “be reasonable. That Fetterman thing happened way out West. And we don’t even know how much of what you read is true. The only thing published in our papers is what the Indian does to the white man. We rarely hear what the white man does to the Indian.” He looked at the half-dozen men gathered in the barn and vaguely registered the absence of Thomas Quinn and Ed Baxter. Then he plunged ahead. “You don’t even know those bones you found are white. It could just as easy be some Chippewa killed a long time ago. Or some trader that got lost in a blizzard. It could be anything. Anybody.” Jeb pleaded, “I trust Daniel and Robert like they was kin.”

  “We trusted some of them back in ‘62, and you know what happened,” one of the farmers retorted.

  A young man with flaming red hair and a hint of a moustache spoke up. “Look, Jeb. We’re not saying they’re all bad. There’s exceptions to every rule. What we are saying is we should learn from experience. We didn’t come to Minnesota to live near Indians. They’re getting a good reservation in Nebraska. They should go there.”

  “Government’s givin’ ‘em everything they need. They even drove a herd of horses up from Kansas so’s they could all have one. Can’t see why they don’t just move on,” another one said.

  “Because this is their home,” Jeb said. He swallowed hard. “Listen. This is the exact homestead these two men had before the uprising.” While he waited for the men to absorb the news, Jeb paused. When they were quiet, he continued. “Fact is, after what happened last spring when those hostiles broke through the border and killed those homesteaders, I sleep better knowing Robert and Daniel are on the place. It never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes keeping a lookout, and they’ve proved themselves to me.”

  “Fool,” Abner muttered.

  Jeb drew himself up and challenged Abner. “You think I’m such a fool I’d let them stay on if I thought my boys and my wife were in danger?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Marsh said quickly.

  “Well, fact is, Abner, you did,” Jeb said. Sensing a glimmer of weakening in the onlookers, he hammered his argument. “I know most of you feel nothing but hatred for everything in the form of an Indian,” Jeb said. He eyed the faces in the small gathering, once more relieved that Quinn and Baxter were absent. He cleared his throat. “But I’ve known Daniel and Robert for nigh on two years now. I’ve seem them work hard and look the other way when they was called names and their women was treated poorly. You have any doubts about Daniel Two Stars and Robert Lawrence, you just take yourself on up to Fort Ridgely and ask Captain John Willets what he thinks of his two Indian scouts. He’ll tell you a thing or two about those men.” Jeb thrust his chin out and stared into the eyes of the six men surrounding him. ‘And I’ll tell you this. The day hasn’t dawned yet when somebody can ride onto the place I’m sweating to build and pouring my lifeblood into and tell me I got to tell two families I count as friends to git.”

  “Never picked you for a Injun-lover, Jeb,” Abner Marsh said. He added a few other choice terms to the moniker, stopping only when Marjorie appeared at the barn door.

  “I’ll have fresh coffee and cake for you men directly,” she called out cheerily. “You’ll all stay, won’t you?”

  “Got no time for socializin’ today,” Marsh replied.

  “I didn’t say anything about socializing, Mr. Marsh,” Marjorie teased. “I just don’t want you going home hungry, that’s all. My reputation’s at stake.” She looked at her husband. “I checked in with the Lawrences for you, Jeb. Robert said to tell you he’d get to plowing that new field today.” She glanced over the crowd of men. “Now you men don’t forget to stop up at the house for coffee when your meeting’s done.”

  When Marjorie had disappeared inside the house, Jeb took a deep breath and glared up at Abner. “We don’t see things the same, Abner. But I always respected you. I know you’ve had some run-ins with the Dakota. I don’t blame you for being suspicious. But I take it personal when you don’t believe what I know to be true.” Jeb eyed the other men, who looked away nervously.

  “I won’t have Injuns livin’ nearby,” Abner said stubbornly.

  “Well then,” Jeb said with a wicked smile.
“I guess your place’ll be for sale. I’ll pay you a fair price.”

  When the other men snickered, Marsh’s face reddened and he let out another stream of profanities. He snatched up his rifle and headed outside. “You keep yer Injuns if ya like, Jeb. Just see they stay close to home.”

  Jeb followed him. “What’s your Sally going to say when she finds out her porch railing’s not going to get finished?”

  “I’ll handle Sally,” Abner shot back. Snatching up his horse’s reins, he mounted up. Looking past Jeb to where the other men stood watching he said loudly, “Just see they stay close to home. A man never knows when some varmint’ll come out of the dark and blow him away. Be a shame if your blood brothers or their women got kilt by accident.” He wheeled his horse around and with a savage kick to its ribs, charged off toward home.

  “Uh-oh.” Thomas Quinn turned to watch Abner Marsh retreat into the distance. Marsh had come flying toward them at such a furious pace, Thomas had pulled his team over on the side of the dirt road to let him pass. Now Abner was gone, but neither Quinn nor Aaron had missed the rage on the man’s face as he whipped his horse past them.

  “Who was that?” Aaron asked.

  “Marsh. Abner Marsh.” Quinn guided his team back onto the road. “Guess we’d better see what’s going on.” He urged the team to a trot. They had gone nearly a quarter of a mile before Quinn said, “Guess I ought to tell you that Marsh doesn’t take to the idea of Daniel and Mrs. Two Stars and the Lawrences living so close.”

  He pulled his team into a narrow lane leading to an attractive two-story house. From his vantage point on the wagon seat, Aaron looked away from the house into the valley below. Two log cabins were visible in the distance, but there was no sign of activity near either one, and no smoke rose from the chimneys. He wanted to jump down and tear off down the hill, but hesitated when a crowd of men emerged from the barn. A woman appeared on the front porch of the house. She rested her hand on the ornate railing and called out, “Now who wants coffee before they head home?” When no one answered, she said, “Coffee cake’s just about done, too.”

  One by one, the men declined the woman’s invitation, tipping their hats and thanking her in a tone of voice at once polite and, Aaron thought, a little embarrassed.

  Quinn approached a short man with a grizzled beard and extended his hand. They exchanged a few words before the man limped over to where Aaron waited. He reached up to shake hands. “Jeb Grant,” he said. “Glad to meet you, Aaron. Call me Jeb.” He called up to the woman on the porch, “Marjorie, this here’s Aaron Dane.”

  At mention of Aaron’s name, Marjorie hurried down off the porch. “Aaron! Praise the Lord, it’s good to see you—Genevieve has just been—” she broke off, looking down the hill and then at her husband.

  Jeb took his hat off and swiped his forehead with his sleeve. He put it back on and raised his hand to the driver of the last wagon to leave the farmyard.

  “Where is Gen?” Aaron asked abruptly. He looked past Jeb down the hill to the cabins.

  Jeb grasped his arm and pulled him along. “She’s safe. They all are.” Quickly, he explained the neighbor’s uneasiness about having Indian neighbors. “But after this winter, I thought that was all part of the past.”

  “What changed things?” Aaron asked.

  Jeb grinned at Marjorie. “Quilting,” he said.

  Quinn nodded. “That’s right. Mrs. Grant invited my missus and a couple others to quilting.” He looked to Jeb and then back to Aaron. “Putting a face on things you think you hate can change your mind. Your stepma and her friend Nancy Lawrence are good women. If it’s up to me, they can live wherever they want.”

  Aaron said, “But from what we saw when we rode in, that’s not how most of the rest of the neighbors feel.”

  “It’s changin’,” Jeb said. “Just takes time.”

  “Where are Gen and Daniel now?”

  Jeb cleared his throat. “When this crowd come ridin’ in, they were pretty riled up. I got ‘em all in the barn where they could say their piece. While we was in there, Marjorie ran down and warned ‘em. Far as I know they went to an old traders place up by the Redwood. I told ‘em we’d come for ‘em when it was safe.”

  “Do you think it’s safe?”

  Jeb nodded. “Most of ‘em wasn’t that set on causing trouble anyway.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If I could just get Abner Marsh to settle down, there wouldn’t be any more trouble. But he won’t let it go. He’s convinced Daniel was one of the three Dakota that stole some horses from him years ago.”

  Aaron inhaled sharply. “A bay gelding and two others?” When Jeb nodded, Aaron continued. “Only the bay was worth anything. Otter let him go when Daniel got shot. The farmer got all his horses back.”

  “You know about that?!”

  Aaron nodded. “When we were in the captive camp back during the outbreak, Daniel used to tell us stories. One night he told us how he almost got killed for a horse.” Aaron sighed. “He was talking about how God had changed him. And how sin can haunt you for years after you’ve done it.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he looked at Quinn and Grant. “It sounds like Abner Marsh could be a dangerous man.”

  “Well, he’s angry. He plowed up some bones in a field the other day and he’s convinced it’s a victim of the uprising. It got him pretty stirred up.”

  “Do you think he’d talk to me?” Aaron asked. “Do you think he’d listen if I told him about the Daniel I know?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeb said. “Maybe. After he has a few days to calm down. He didn’t get much support today—in spite of what it looked like when you rode in.”

  “If I can borrow a horse, I’d like to go get Ma and Daniel and the Lawrences and tell them they can come home now,” Aaron said quietly.

  “I’ll take you,” Quinn said.

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Aaron replied, “I’d rather go alone.” He looked at Jeb. “I know about the trader’s cabin.” He cleared his throat. “Fact is, Daniel stopped there during the outbreak to warn some newcomers to get away. He was trying to get some supplies to help Robert.” He leaned forward. “Robert Lawrence had gone into the agency to get a horse shod the day the trouble started. He got shot in the belly. Daniel went after him. Carried him out of the worst of things and then helped Nancy get him to safety.” He stopped abruptly. Looking at Jeb he said, “You get Abner Marsh and anyone else you can to come to a meeting. I’ll tell them a few things about Daniel Two Stars and Robert Lawrence!”

  “We just might do that, son,” Jeb said. “But first let’s get ‘em back home. How well can you ride?” When Aaron looked surprised by the question, Jeb explained, “Don’t take it personal, son. I’ve heard Captain Willets up at Fort Ridgely moan about the city boys that sign up for the army and never sat a horse before. Happens all the time.”

  “My Uncle Elliot started teaching me to ride as soon as I began talking about going into the military,” Aaron said.

  “Well then. We’ll just saddle up Bones and send you on your way. He don’t look like much, but he loves to run.”

  As the men headed for the barn, Thomas Quinn said, “I’ll drop your bag off down at the Two Starses’, Aaron,” adding, “and if you organize that meeting, let me know and I’ll be there. I don’t need any stories to convince me about Robert and Daniel, but it can’t hurt to have somebody on your side in the crowd.”

  “Thank you,” Aaron said warmly. “And thank you for the ride out from town.”

  Aaron and Jeb headed for the barn. Quinn murmured, “That might be a boy in years, but there’s a man inside.”

  Marjorie nodded. “Maybe the good Lord is going to solve this mess after all.”

  Nine

  Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge …

  —Ruth 1:16

  “Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter!” Daniel slammed his hand down on the table
with such force the coffee in Gen’s cup sloshed over the rim. Seated opposite Gen on Daniel’s left, Aaron took a sudden interest in the oatmeal left in his bowl.

  The force of Daniel’s words made Genevieve flinch. He had never shouted at her before. She put her spoon down and, clasping her hands in her lap, watched a drop of coffee slide down the side of her cup and pool in the chipped saucer.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said quickly. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Gripping the edge of the table he said, “I’m not angry at you, Blue Eyes. I just—” he stopped abruptly and, pushing himself away from the table, stalked outside.

  Aaron finally broke the uncomfortable silence in the cabin. “I shouldn’t have been the one to come find you and tell you it was safe to come out of hiding. I should have let Mr. Grant do that.”

  Gen picked up a knife and pried a wedge of cornbread out of the pie tin in the center of the table. Sliding it onto the small plate beside Aaron’s cereal bowl she said, “I’m glad you came.” She stood up and walked around to his side of the table and patted him on the shoulder.

  “I’m glad I came too, Ma. But I’m thinking about the last time he saw me. I was a young boy looking up to him like a hero. And this time—”

  “This time you find him hiding out instead of defending himself,” Gen murmured.

  “That would be hard on a man’s pride,” Aaron said. “Awfully hard.”

  “Yes,” Gen sighed. “I suppose it would. And that would matter, wouldn’t it. A lot. I hadn’t quite thought of it that way.” She nudged the plate of cornbread toward his cereal bowl. “Finish your supper. We’ll be back directly.” She headed for the door. Just outside she hesitated. There was no lamplight spilling through the Lawrence’s window. She’d hoped to procrastinate by checking on Nancy.

  “He went up toward Grants’.” Robert’s voice sounded from across the road, just barely loud enough to be heard.

  “I thought you were asleep,” Gen said, making her way across the road. When she got close enough to see Robert sitting in the doorway, his rifle leaning up against the cabin, she shivered involuntarily.