The Pilgrim Song (30 page)

“I’ll . . . try.”

Lewis felt her hands pulling at him. She was a big, strong woman, he could tell that. When he put his left foot on the ground, he summoned all his strength and stood up. He barely made it to a standing position before he doubled up, falling over her shoulder. “That’s it. You be right still now.”

Lewis gritted his teeth. He felt the strength of the woman as she moved. She had lit a lamp, but he could see nothing, for his sight was bleary in his exhaustion. When she lowered him into a bed, the pain was terrible.

She pulled him into a partially upright position and held a glass of a strong-smelling liquid to his lips. “Got to set that leg of yours,” she said. “You drink this, and it won’t hurt so bad.”

Lewis drank the bitter-tasting liquid and groaned, “My family.”

“I’ll take care of that. First we gotta fix this leg. How long was you in that gully?”

“More than a day,” Lewis whispered.

He lay there until the medicine, whatever it was, began to take effect, and he found himself unable to speak. The room was whirling around, and he thought he heard her say, “Now then, we’ll see. . . .”

****

Sunlight filtered in through the room and touched Lewis’s face, but he knew he was no longer in the gully. He felt the bed underneath him, and his memory came flooding back.
He opened his eyes and saw the woman sitting beside him in a chair. When he tried to speak, he found his voice was hoarse.

“Well, you’re awake. Let me get you some water. I know you’re dried out.”

Lewis watched as she poured from a blue pitcher into a tumbler. He sat up, noting that his trousers were off and his right leg was in a splint. He gulped the water down thirstily until it was gone. “Could I have some more?”

“In a minute. Let that kinda soak into ya. What’s your name?”

“Winslow . . . Lewis Winslow.”

“I’m glad to make your acquaintance. My name’s Missouri Ann Ramey.”

Lewis was regaining his faculties quickly. He saw that she had jet black hair with a silver streak that began on the right side of her face. He couldn’t keep from staring at it.

“I guess I’m right lucky my whole hair didn’t turn silver. Don’t know what done it,” she said. She smiled at him and then put her big hand on his forehead. “Well, you ain’t got no fever. That’s good. And your leg’s okay too. Wasn’t a bad break. I’ve set lots worse.”

“My family . . . I’ve got to tell my family.”

“You tell me where y’all live, and I’ll send for ’em. I’m afraid to leave you right now.” She gave him another half glass of water and said, “I’m gonna leave this by you, but don’t you drink no more than a little bit. All right?”

“All right.”

The woman left the room, and Lewis looked around, his mind still confused. A rush of gratitude came to him, for he knew that she had saved his life. “Thank you, Lord,” he muttered. “I know it was your doing.”

He was in a log cabin, he saw, a large room with a stone fireplace that took up one end. At the other end a set of stairs led upward to a loft, and a door at the back led to what was apparently a bedroom. The walls were filled with articles of clothing hanging from pegs, and the furniture, from what
he could see, was sturdy and handmade. There was a small fire in the huge fireplace with a steaming black pot hanging over it. It gave forth a delicious smell, and he became acutely aware of his hunger.

Lewis drank the water sparingly and then dozed on and off until the woman returned.

“You hungry?”

“Starved.”

“That’s good. You need to keep up your strength.” She went to the fireplace, picked up a bowl from the table beside it, and used a large spoon to fill it. She sat down beside him. “Here, you want me to feed you?”

“No, I can do it.”

Lewis took the bowl and lifted a spoonful of the soup to his mouth. He swallowed and began eating eagerly. “This is good. What is it?”

“Turtle soup,” Missouri said.

“Best soup I ever had.”

“Eat all you can,” Missouri encouraged him. She sat back and watched him, then went over and got a bowl for herself.

With a little food in his stomach, Lewis was starting to relax. “Do you have a family?”

“Did have. My husband, Ed, he died two years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It was his time, and God took him. He was a good man. We had two children when we weren’t much older than babies ourselves, but they both moved off. I live here all by myself now.”

“How did you happen to find me?”

The woman reached up and stroked her hair. It was a feminine gesture, which almost struck Lewis as odd. She looked mannish in her clothes, although he could see she had a womanly figure. She was not fat, just large, and her large eyes and wide lips were attractive on her strong face.

“Well, I’ll tell you, Lewis,” she said. “It had to be of God.”

“I believe that,” Lewis said fervently.

“You a Christian man?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good. Well, I don’t go to the river much anymore, but I just took a notion to go. Thought I was goin’ after turtles, and I got five big ones. But it was the Lord. If I hadn’t gone, I don’t reckon you would have made it.”

“I believe you’re right. I’m thanking God that you did go for those turtles.”

“Oh, God’s got everything under control.” She smiled broadly, leaned forward, and took the bowl from him. “More soup?”

“Not right now, but perhaps in a little while.”

She studied him for a time, and he could not understand the look that was in her eyes. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’m causing you,” he said.

“You’re no trouble at all, Lewis. God brought you here, and He took me out to find you.”

Puzzled, Lewis said hesitantly, “Well . . . I’m sure God must plan things.”

“Plan things! Why, He plans it all!” Missouri exclaimed. Then she startled him by grabbing his hand. “I’ve been praying for a man, and you’re the one God has sent.”

Lewis stared at her blankly, thinking at first he had not heard her correctly. “What was that?”

“Why, I know you’re a little bit surprised—or maybe more than a little bit!—but I’ve lost my man, and I asked God to send me another husband, so I’m thanking Him that He did.”

There was no misunderstanding this. Lewis was very conscious of the woman’s hand on his. He sat there unable to speak for a moment. Finally he squeezed out, “I guess I’m past such things as that, Mrs. Ramey.”

“You can just call me Missouri. Everybody does. It was my mother’s name.” Starting again, she said, “What do you mean you’re past such things? How old are you?”

“Fifty-five.”

“Why, there’s lots of men older than you that get married. You’re able to love, aren’t you?”

Her words brought a new flush to Lewis’s already red face. He dropped his eyes. The question seemed innocent enough—it was as if she’d asked him if he liked to eat potatoes.

“I . . . I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Well, I do. God wouldn’t send me a man that couldn’t love. You see, I’m only thirty-eight years old, Lewis, and I love babies. So I asked God to send me a man who would give me some babies.” She squeezed his hand and said, “I’ll get you some more soup now.”

Lewis watched the curious woman move across the floor to the fireplace. His mind was so confused he could not put his thoughts together. The closest he could come was to breathe a silent prayer,
Oh, Lord, what have I gotten into? What kind of woman is this?

When Missouri Ann came back, she sat down and said, “I know it comes as a shock to you ’cause you’ve not been praying like I have. But the answer came to me right strong. I knew almost as soon as I seen you in that gully that you was God’s gift. But I won’t rush you none, Lewis. Won’t rush you none at all. You just enjoy your soup.”

****

Neither Hannah nor any of the other family members had spoken of their fears openly, but by the second morning after Lewis’s disappearance almost all hope was gone. The neighbors had responded valiantly. Sheriff Beauchamp had rounded up at least thirty men from town, and they had combed the woods up and down the river. Clint had even taken a bunch across the river on the chance that Lewis might have crossed over.

But hope had almost faded, and now as Hannah stood beside the stove pouring coffee, she glanced over at Kat, who had gone to sleep curled up in a tiny ball.
Poor thing,
Hannah thought.
She’s taking it harder than any of us. It’s so terrible.

Jenny was asleep also, for they had all been up most of the night. Now Clint and the sheriff had taken the men out for another sweep. The sheriff had tried to be encouraging, and several of the women from town had stayed with Hannah and Jenny, consoling them and trying to be hopeful.

Devoe Crutchfield had been there from the beginning. He had contacted all the male church members to get them involved in the search and had stopped by with some encouraging words.

Hannah turned from the stove, sipped the coffee, and then put it down. She had not been able to eat much, just nibbling at her meals, but she had drunk too much coffee.

Her head came up at the sound of an approaching horse. As she moved to the door, Jenny stirred, as did Kat, both of them sleepy eyed. Hannah opened the door, and a man she had never seen before dismounted a strawberry stallion and pulled his hat off, saying, “I’m lookin’ for the Winslow place.”

“This is the Winslows’.”

“Miss Missouri sent me over to tell y’all that she found your pa.”

Hannah’s hand flew to her mouth. She cried out and ran to the man. “Is he all right?”

“He busted his leg, but he’s fine. I guess Miss Missouri didn’t want to move him right now, but I can take you to him. My name is Henry Franks.”

“We’ll leave a note for Josh and Clint,” Hannah said. “Can you tell them how to get there, Mr. Franks?”

Franks nodded. “You can tell ’em to go to Jesse Cannon’s place. You know him?”

“Oh yes, we know Jesse.”

“Well, he knows where Missouri Ann lives.”

“Come on, we’ll hitch up the wagon,” Jenny cried out. “Are you sure he’s all right?”

Franks smiled at her. “He’s fine. When Missouri takes care of a man, he’s all right.”

Franks nodded ahead from astride his horse and said, “That’s Missouri’s place right there. Reckon you’re anxious to find out about your pa.”

“Yes, thank you so much, Mr. Franks,” Hannah said.

They had made the trip quickly, and now as they pulled the wagon up in front of the log cabin, she saw a woman come out.

“Missouri,” Franks said, “this here’s Mr. Winslow’s daughters come to see about him.”

Hannah, Jenny, and Kat all jumped out of the wagon and approached the large woman who stood waiting for them. “I’m glad to see you,” Missouri greeted them. “Your father knew you’d be worried about him.”

“Is he all right?” Jenny asked quickly.

“He busted up his leg, but I set it. He’ll be fine. Come along inside.”

Lewis was sitting up, his back to the wall, his leg stretched out, when his children entered. They rushed over to him, hovering over him, all touching and embracing him together.

Missouri stood back and smiled. She was looking at the children carefully and thinking,
Fine-looking girls, all of them.

Jenny finally said, “We’re smothering him. Stand back and give him some air.”

“Where were you, Daddy?” Kat said. She was so happy she could hardly speak, and she stood holding Lewis’s hand tightly as if he would run away.

“Well, I fell in a gully, and if Miss Ramey here hadn’t found me, it would have been pretty bad.”

They all turned, and Kat looked at her with big eyes. “She saved your life?”

“She really did, and she set my leg too—as good as any doctor.”

“I don’t know how we can ever thank you, Miss Ramey,”
Jenny said as she extended her hand to the woman. When she took it, Jenny was amazed at the size and strength of it. She herself had to look up, for Missouri Ann Ramey was at least as tall as her father.

“Well, the good Lord does all things well.” Missouri smiled. “It was all planned to be.”

Lewis flinched, for he was sure that her next statement would be to announce their engagement. He intervened quickly. “Where are my manners? Let me introduce my daughters to you.”

As Lewis said their names, Missouri smiled and nodded at each of them. “You have beautiful children, Lewis.” And then as naturally as anyone ever spoke, she said, “Since I’m gonna be your new ma, we’ll have to get to know each other.” The girls all stared at her with huge eyes and open mouths. “Well, I’ve been praying for a man, and God sent your daddy. But there’s no hurry. While Lewis is healing up, we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted.”

Lewis felt the shock that ran through his daughters and spoke up quickly. “Miss Missouri, I sure appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I want you to understand that I’ll never marry again. God may have said something to you, but He hasn’t said anything to me.”

Missouri was not at all perturbed by this. She smiled gently and said, “Oh, He will, Lewis. He just has to get you ready.” Turning to the girls, she said, “I love babies. Mean to have at least two or three more.” She shook her head and added thoughtfully, “I sure hope they look like Lewis. He does father some beautiful children.”