The Fugitive Son (20 page)

A few of the men began to listen, apparently giving serious thought to Andy’s suggestion. Suddenly, Pa rode into the crowd. ““But nobody who obeys the prophet is going to sell their crops to the enemy!” he thundered, again raising the crowd to fever pitch.

Amidst the yells of “Yeah!” and “I’d rather burn ‘em first,” Andy protested. “But these are innocent people! Mothers and tiny babies, toddlers! Little children just like yours!”

“Innocent, my eye! You heard all the stuff they’ve done!” The man who seemed to be the main spokesman for the group took charge. “No way are we going to aid our enemies!”

“But doesn’t the Good Book say we should love our enemies and do good to those who would harm us?” Andy argued.

“Don’t rightly know what the Good Book says about it, but I’m right sure the Book of Mormon don’t preach no nonsense like that! I say, let’s get on with it!” the spokesman thundered.

Realizing he couldn’t accomplish anything here, Andy swung his horse around and told Pa, “I’m going back up to Aunt Hettie’s. Are you coming?”

Pa shook his head. “No, you go on along. I think I’ll spend the night down here with the brethren. We’ve got business to take care of. Give the kiddies my love.”

Andy rode like ghosts were chasing him, making the fifteen-mile ride in short order. Some distance to the west, he saw the wagon train lumbering through the high grasses of the well-watered meadow, obviously avoiding the trail to bypass problems. He hurried on toward Aunt Hettie’s, fervently praying that the train would be successful in keeping clear of trouble.

Coming close to Aunt Hettie’s cabin, he was shocked to see several horses already hitched in her yard. Indian horses. Chief Kanosh stepped out of the cabin just then, greeting him warmly. “Hello, friend. We stopped by to tell Hettie you safe. And get bread and jam for warriors.” He grinned widely, holding up a large hunk of fresh-baked bread slathered in raspberry jam.

Andy shook his hand. “Chief Kanosh,” he acknowledged. “I’m glad to see you. We need to talk about something.”

“So talk…”

As best he could, Andy tried to tell Kanosh about the peril of the whites and how he thought the settlers were setting a trap for them, appealing to Kanosh’s conscience not to help in any harassment.

Kanosh asked a few questions, then told Andy, “Indians not kill. Prophet say we can have the cattle and horses. At first we tell him, ‘But you say to Indians not to steal.’”

Andy asked, “What did he say to that?”

“He say not stealing. Just helping Mormons get back what belongs to them. It’s big reward for our help.”

So that’s what the big meeting with the prophet was all about. He must have been securing the help of the Indians in whatever plot he was conceiving. Andy tried once more to make Kanosh see that he shouldn’t take part, even insisting that the wagon train was well guarded with sharpshooters, and any attack on them would most certainly result in carnage to the Indians.

Kanosh shrugged. “Indians from all over already on their way. Many down in the meadow now. Can’t let them down. Our people hungry; cows give beef and milk for our babies. Must go, but promise no killing!”

Andy quickly fed and watered his horse, letting the argument rest while he went in to greet Aunt Hettie and his half-siblings. He quickly explained that he had to ride to Mountain Meadow immediately. He rode off with the speed of Paul Revere, hoping to warn the wagon train before the attack. There would be no sleep or rest for him this night.

New Mexico Territory

Lawson Reed, the wagonmaster of the southbound wagon train, called the wagons to a halt. “This looks like as good a place as any to set up camp for the night. Let’s circle up and get some vittles ready for supper.”

Elsie looked around at the wild, barren desert, destitute of anything but a few straggly cactus plants and wild sage. It had been several weary weeks since the train had split in the grassy prairies of Kansas. There had been little but desert since. A wave of homesickness swept over her. Back home in Kentucky, sage and mint would be scenting the air. Colorful hollyhocks would be waiting for little girls to make their beautiful blooms into dolls. The grass would be rich and green. The new owners of River Bend Plantation would be harvesting the beans, peas, squash, sweet corn and cucumbers she had so lovingly planted.

She heaved a deep, agonizing sigh. She was no longer a protected, delicate Southern belle growing up in privilege on a Kentucky plantation. Her future, whatever it mght bring, lay to the West. Squaring her shoulders, she joined the other women picking up dried cattle dung and whatever fuel they could find for their campfires. She would meet the frontier on her own terms, she decided, facing her uncertain future head-on.

Kentucky, with its life of ease, lay behind her. The Great Plains, which had seemed so frightening in their awesomeness, were no longer alien to her; she had conquered them. Now, just over the snow-capped purple mountains, was a new life as a mercantile owner in Santa Fe. Instead of viewing New Mexico Territory through the backward lens of her life in Kentucky, she determined she would accept it for its own beauty.

She stared hard toward the west, the land of the setting sun, the land of her future. The sky was ablaze with a magnificent sunset, stretching across the horizon in a riot of colors. The desert itself seemed to reflect the colors, painting the cliffs and buttes an array of purples, pinks, and scarlet. How many more of these spectacular sunsets would she enjoy before setting foot in Santa Fe?

Elsie’s melancholy stayed with her throughout the busy supper preparations and cleanup. Unwilling to call it a day and crawl into her featherbed, she sat on the rear stoop of her wagon and watched the fading sunset darken into a velvet blue sky. One by one, the diamond stars made their entrance onto the scene. Lit by the biggest full moon she had ever seen, the buttes in the distance seemed to loom larger than they had in the daylight, towering over the desert like dark monoliths.

“May we join you?”

Elsie startled when the voice shattered the silence of the night. Looking up, she scooted over on the stoop to make room for her visitors, the Morton sisters, Cindy and Sara.

“It’s way too pretty tonight to go inside,” Cindy said. “We’re just walking along jawing about what the future holds for us.”

Elsie grinned. “Don’t you mean who the future holds for you? You two are always going on about how you’re going to have to find a man in Texas, because every eligible male on this part of the wagon train is related to you!”

“We should have accepted one of those proposals before the train split and took all the available men to California,” Sara said with a sigh. “Sally was smart to marry Marion Tackitt, even if it did mean leaving her family.”

At the mention of her friend, Elsie grew pensive. “That had to be hard for her. She was so close to her mother and sisters.” She looked up at the golden orb rising above the earth. “I wonder if she and Marion are somewhere looking at this same moon?”

“As moonie-eyed as they were, I doubt if they’d pass up a chance to sit and spoon on a night like this!” Cindy laughed. “Which brings us back to our original question. Where are we going to find a fella to watch the moon with?”

Sara poked Elsie lightly. “You never talk about finding a man. With all your dreams of managing your own mercantile, you probably figure you won’t need a man.”

“You may find it hard to believe,” Elsie answered, “but growing up on a plantation in Kentucky, a young lady is prepared for one big role in life – marriage. I learned how to charm a man, how to talk to him, how to cook his favorite meals. I know how to run a home, supervise servants, and make myself alluring and submissive, all of which will no doubt be wasted in Santa Fe where the only males will be my brothers, the Mexicans, or the freight drivers.”

“Don’t forget all the soldiers in forts around there who will be coming to town to look for a pretty lass,” Sara teased.

“I may be set on marriage, but I’m not a foolish romantic,” Cindy chimed in. “Whomever we finally catch, one thing’s for sure – we’ll have to learn to keep our rosebud lips shut tightly when necessary and never express an opinion that contradicts the lord of the castle!”

The girls broke into giggles at Cindy’s sarcastic tone. “On second thought,” Sara said, “maybe I shouldn’t be in such an all-fired hurry to get a man!”

They laughed so loud, the people in the next wagon chided them, “Will you girls keep it quiet so a body can get some sleep?”

“Sorry,” Elsie muttered. Whispering to her friends, she continued the conversation. “In addition to learning to be agreeable, I also was taught to play the piano, recite poetry in French, and do needlepoint. How will any of that be useful out here in the wild West?”

The sisters agreed Elsie’s background wasn’t conducive to a life in New Mexico. “We’re a bit more prepared for our new life,” Cindy said. “We both can milk a cow, shovel manure, plow a straight row, ride a horse, plant corn. You name it, we’ve done it!”

“We’ve done those chores all our lives. And we’ve still been taught to be ladies. Yep! We’ll make some lucky Texas farmers great wives,” Sara added.

“But will they be the kind of husbands we want?” Cindy asked ruefully.

The commotion of an arriving wagon interrupted their whispered discussion. “Who on earth?” Elsie slid off the wagon stoop and peeked around the front of her wagon. A freight wagon had pulled up, and its driver was talking to Captain Reed. Recognizing the voice, she approached the men.

“Trip!” She exclaimed, surprised to see her rescuer this far back on the trail already. “Goodness gracious!” she declared. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Trip laughed. “Was hoping I’d catch up to you. After I left you in Kansas, I moseyed on into Kansas City, picked up a load of freight, then high-tailed it back along the trail, thinking maybe I’d catch up to you. My freight wagon makes a heap of a lot better time than your huge train could have with all its stock.”

“Well, I’m mighty happy to see you.” Elsie stepped back and glanced at his wagon. “But isn’t that a new wagon? I thought you drove for Ben Holladay?”

Bursting with pride, Trip pointed to the new sign on his wagon, clearly visible in the bright moonlight, “Triple A Freighters.”

“Yep! Truth be told, I got tired of ole’Holladay’s shenanigans, so I up and bought my own wagon and went into business for myself. Like it?”

Elsie nodded. “I surely do! So you’re going all the way into Santa Fe?”

“That I am. I knew that the Fancher train was splitting in western Kansas with the main group heading north. I thought I might be able to catch up to this part of it and escort you the rest of the way. Didn’t want you stuck alone along the Cimarron Trail… there’s no telling what might happen to you.”

Captain Reed joined in the conversation. “We wouldn’t have left her alone, but I’m mighty glad you came along just now. We’ve got a long way to go to get settled on our Pecos land before winter sets in, and every day counts. Yes sir, we’re mighty grateful to you, Trip. This way we can head straight there instead of having to go on to Santa Fe and then backtrack.”

Elsie was grateful, too, but she didn’t like the idea that she would have been a burden to her new friends. She didn’t like being a burden to anyone. While it wouldn’t have been fun, she could have managed the rest of the trail on her own. She hoped that once she got to Santa Fe, her brothers wouldn’t think she needed taking care of. She could pull her own weight.

She sighed once again. This being a woman had its ups and downs. Sometimes it was nice to sit in the wagon and let a man do the driving and loading. But having people think she was some helpless creature not capable of taking care of herself could be annoying. Which way did she want it?

Trip looked around. “Say, did Isaac ever show up?”

Elsie shook her head sadly. “No, we asked everyone we met, but no one has seen him.”

“I got a bit of news back at the last fort. It seems some bounty hunters had stopped at the fort on their way back toward Kansas City, empty-handed. Said they’d caught a runaway, a giant of a man who somehow managed to escape from them. They finally decided to quit looking for him and head back.”

Elsie smiled. “If that was Isaac, at least he got free and won’t be sold back into slavery. But where would he go?”

“Probably up into the mountains to lay low for a while. Could he survive in the wilds?” Trip asked.

“He could make it almost anywhere,” Elsie asserted confidently. “I’ve never seen anybody as self-reliant and capable as Isaac. But I hope he gets out of the mountains before winter sets in. I’ve heard the winters out here can be brutal.”

“I daresay if he’s as smart as you say he is, your Isaac will no doubt meet up with us in Santa Fe one of these days.”

Elsie went to sleep that night with Trip’s assurance on her heart. Her prayers were still for Isaac’s safety, but she was able to pray with much more detailed specifics now that she had some idea of where he might be.
And thank you, Lord, for sending Trip back in time to escort me safely into Santa Fe,
she added.
You knew how I was dreading that trip, and now I’m actually looking forward to it. You’re such a loving, caring Father!