Authors: Nancy E. Turner
He made it seem like the most important thing in the world to him, and before last night I never knew why some women would actually desire to do those things with a man, but now I truly do. Always with Jimmy it was just a matter to be finished and hope it took, like breeding a mare.
The sun was touching my eyes and I woke knowing it had to be nearly noon. The lamp had burned out in the night. Jack, I whispered, turning to see his sleeping face on the pillow beside me. Jack, I don’t want the earth to open up and swallow you down any more.
He opened his eyes then and looked at me real strange and wrinkled up his brow. I reckon that’s good, he said. Was that a possibility in your mind?
Well, I said, I was really scared last night when you were gone so long.
Thought I wouldn’t come back? he said, gleefully wrapping me up in his arms and scooping up blankets with me in a bundle. Or, did you think I would? He gave me that piercing look and I know he is right inside my head looking at my thoughts, then he nodded and stuck out his lips and said, Well, are you sorry I came back?
I suppose not, I said.
You suppose? Suppose! What does it take to convince you?
I just grinned at him.
Sarah! how shameless! he said, acting like he was shocked, but I know he wasn’t at all. Well, he said, Wife, you’ll have to be convinced later. I’m worn out and hungry. Even the Army feeds its prisoners.
Well, Husband, I said, then we should get dressed and eat.
And so we began our wedding trip, and we will stay one more night in this hotel and leave tomorrow at 7:15 on the train for Texas.
December 23, 1885
The huge train jerked and puffed and the whistle blew. They would all be there without me for Christmas. Ernest will be gone before I get back. Goodbye, I said into the glass.
Mama waved and her mouth was saying Merry Christmas. Savannah was just a flash in the conductor’s red lamplight. Suddenly I knew how she must have felt to say goodbye to her family in Texas to come here with us. I hung onto the window, feeling the frozen metal edges around the sliding glass, staring into the cold past the vapor and sparks, back toward the light from the depot. Hot, salty tears seeped from my eyes and dripped from my chin.
I sat across from Jack on the strange, upright seats, and he gave me a look that was for once not a smirk but one of real sympathy, and he handed me his handkerchief. They’ll be here when we get back, he said.
Not Ernest. Right away, my thoughts turned to my brother and the long talks we had had just before my wedding. While he made quick work of checking and repairing all the horses’ hooves, he said he was proud to have me married to Captain Elliot. He said his job as blacksmith was pleasing to him, and it put him to doing something valuable that didn’t take such a keen eye for distance. I tried to get him to tell me things about Jack, but he just went on and on with stories about their army life. I suppose men don’t look on the same things in a person that a woman wants to know. Ernest seemed to have no suspicion at all that a man could be a bad husband even if he didn’t cheat at cards, or could be cruel or thoughtless to his wife even if he was a straight shooter about his business affairs. He acted like I was being peevish for no reason.
Just before we all drove to town for the wedding, Ernest gave me a gift for my wedding. He must have saved up a long, long time, for he gave us a solid silver bowl, and six real silver spoons and knives and forks for the table. He told me to polish them with potash, and said it will taste better than eating off tin forks. Then he gave Jack a real stiff salute and handed him a package, and inside it was a fine, smooth, pair of tall black cavalry boots for dress. He said he had the bootmaker take a pattern from Jack’s old ones while he was gone one time. Then, it seemed like Ernest had done what he came for, and he quit talking so much to me, and made himself part of the rest of the group as if he slipped away in the crowd. I asked Mama to keep my silver things safe until we get back, but Jack is wearing his boots now. When Ernest said goodbye to me, he hugged me long and hard, and there came a cold, faraway look in his eyes, and it was like I could see into yonder in that look, like I knew it was the last time I would see him.
The train was stuffy and cold, and even though the car had a little hot box at one end, it made me long for fresh air and warmth all at once. Jack had brought April a little slate and chalks and an eraser to amuse herself while we rode, and he left me alone for a while, talking to her and watching her draw scribbled rings, and exclaiming proudly at each picture when she announced what it was.
We ate breakfast later in a dining car, and there was pretty linen tablecloths and a colored man in a handsome white uniform that asked us what we wanted. April was good as could be, and talked a blue streak about the scenery out the window, and the napkin under her chin, and anything else that popped into her head. And when we stood to leave, she held up her hands to Jack instead of to me.
Well, I said, she’s a big girl, she should walk.
He looked at me and then said to her, Walk next time, ride now, and picked her up anyway. She’s my girl, aren’t you? And April put her arms around his neck while we returned to our seats.
It is so strange to have this happy feeling inside and be pleased that she likes him, and still so uncomfortable, like I am riding in a dream with a strange man. When he is gone, I feel more normal, but when he is nearby, I feel captured by him, and overcome with curiosity about him and everything in his whole life. But he is not the kind to sit and expound on himself, and I realized it took a glass of whiskey for him to tell me just one important fact from his past. Maybe it is not so good that he has given up all drinking, just to be married to me. There is too much I want to know.
A man in a train uniform came to us and gave me a note, saying it was from two ladies in the car on the other side of the diner. It said they had seen me at breakfast, and wanted to make my acquaintance, and would I come to tea in an hour?
Go ahead, Jack said, it will make the time pass quicker.
So I told the man Fine, if Jack would stay with April and watch her, and if she doesn’t throw a fit over me leaving, I will come.
Very good, said the man, real formal like, I shall tell Mrs. Faulkner and Mrs. Blankenship that you will join them presently. And may I present your name, Ma’am?
Yes, I told him, Mrs. Sarah, and then I caught myself and I know I blushed, and Jack stared at me hard, Mrs. Jack Elliot, I said. The porter left us, and Jack left his seat and sat by my side. He took my hand then, and seemed to be admiring the wedding ring in the sunlight coming in the window, but he didn’t say anything, and when I looked at his face he looked out the window fast, as if I had caught him at something.
April climbed in my lap, and I suppose because she had been up early, she drowsed and fell asleep, so it was no trouble to set her on his lap when the porter returned. And taking the man’s stiffly bent elbow, I went to meet the ladies. They seemed like very fine, high class women, and they were both dressed so elegant, and sat gracefully in their seats and ordered the porter to bring tea and cakes, just like they were used to ordering people around.
We had all said hello very politely, and they asked me if I’d rather have tea or coffee. Well, I said I preferred coffee, but if tea was more convenient, that would be fine.
They kind of sniffed, and one of them said, Coffee! Must be fresh from the Territories.
Well, yes, Ma’am, I said, I lived there all my life.
Then they asked me about my husband, and what he does, and I told them he was an officer in the Army and an Indian fighter, and they exclaimed and raised their hands to their mouths and were so interested and asked dozens of questions. They asked wasn’t I worried about him all the time, and I said, well, we only just married, and if there was Indian trouble around I would be much less worried knowing he was close by.
Well, they just practically twittered like little birds at that, and made eyes at each other and then this other much older lady sitting across the aisle said to me, Where do you live? So I told her about my ranch and tried not to seem proud, although they all said it must be vast and how nice to have all those acres and family with other holdings as they called it.
Yes, I said, and we have good neighbors too, and I told them about our friends and they seemed fairly shocked that we lived near Mexican people, but I said, For a fact, they are fine folks and good and generous. I’m proud to know them. They just smiled at each other and winked their eyes, and offered me cake.
Then they began to tell me about their families, as if they had a list written down to recount, and all the fine things they do and the fine houses they live in with a thousand acres around them. I wanted to be polite, and I listened and admired all the things they said. Then Mrs. Faulkner said her son went to West Point and her youngest daughter Persephone had married an Army officer who went to West Point, and did Captain Elliot go to West Point, and did I know she was such a beautiful girl and had already given her a grandchild, and did I know that Persephone was an ancient Roman name for the goddess of beauty?
It was a tangled knot of questions all at once, and I tried to remember them all. So I said, I am sure you are happy for your daughter, and I will ask the Captain if he went there since I didn’t know if she meant the west point of the Rio Grande or some other river, and then I said, Actually, Persephone is a Greek name for the daughter of Zeus and she was not a goddess she was a prisoner of Hades.
They just all clapped their hands over their mouths kind of shocked, and I could see Mrs. Faulkner had got riled up as her jaw got tight and her lips pinched together. The old lady, Mrs. Dunn, she said her name was, sort of chuckled, and said Where did you get your education, deary? How ingenious of you, how quaintly unsophisticated! Then she announced she was tired, and thanked me for coming but it was time to rest before luncheon.
I was being invited to leave!
Just at that minute, everything got quiet, and suddenly I saw Jack with April holding his hand coming down the aisle looking for me.
He took off his hat to the ladies, and said to me, Pardon us, but the Colonel here was disturbed at your absence, Mrs. Elliot, and ordered me to dispatch and find you immediately. April buried herself in my skirts, and I could feel her trembling.
Oh, oh, they exclaimed over April, How darling! they all said, blushing and fanning themselves at my husband as he bowed and smiled at them. I thought he looked pretty silly, and had a look in his eyes like he was making fun of them, but they just tee-heed about him and said, What a nice man to take care of the baby.
Then Mrs. Blankenship, who is a mousy grey little woman, said, But my dear, I thought you were just married?
My first husband was killed right after she was born, I said. Thank you for the coffee.
And I rose and left them without another word, although I could hear Jack saying goodbye to them or some other such nonsense and they were all twittering again.
Captain Elliot, I whispered, I wish I had my dictionary with me. And then I said to him, what does it mean, quaintly unsophisticated?
I don’t know, he said, and we sat for a while quietly.
I think they were insulting me, I said.
He just shrugged, and said, Foolish old biddy hens, I was going to tell them April was mine and we married yesterday, and see the look on their faces. You spoiled it.
Jack! that’s awful. But he smiled that smile he has, and I felt quietly pleased.
December 25, 1885
Christmas morning. The day started dark and cloudy and cold, and it seems to be snowing now and then, the flakes brush past the window and do not settle. April slept bundled in her own bunk last night, and I woke early, wrapped in Jack’s strong arms, comfortable. As he lay with me we watched out the little window and saw the snow skittering across the glass, and he said to me, I’m glad you’re here, I dreamed last night that I woke up and I had dreamed all of it, and I was back in the barracks alone.
We are anxious to be done with traveling, but Jack has talked more today, and we are good company for each other, and never seemed to tire of something to discuss.
I felt happy until today at dinner someone in the Dining car reminded me it is Christmas day, and started to hum a Christmas carol, and someone else joined in, until the whole car was singing Hark the Herald Angels Sing. Jack and April listened, but I just stared hard out the window. It feels like there is a hard knot in my chest. This is the first Christmas I have ever been away from my family, and nothing here is familiar, and I am gone away with a stranger and my baby, and I felt like I wanted to go back to bed and cry.
Sing, Papa, she said to Jack, and he looked up startled and opened up his eyes wide. Then I saw a look of warmth spread across his face like she had said the sweetest words he had ever heard.
He smiled at her and said, Well, I can’t sing right now, Mama has an owey and needs a sugar. April obediently kissed my cheek. Why don’t you tell her about Christmas? he said. I have to ask about the horses and take care of something, and I’ll be right back. Stay here and wait for me, okay? So I nodded. He kissed April’s head as he left.
April sat and listened like she was much older than two, as I told her about Mary and Joseph, traveling far away from their homes and being cold and lonely and scared. And my voice choked up, and I brushed away tears quick so she couldn’t see them. So I rushed the story ahead to the Baby’s birth, and the angels singing, and the kings from the east.
Jack came back looking worried. One of the foals is down. Hard to tell if it’s sick or just cold, right now, he said.
Is there anything we can do? I asked him.
He shook his head. Christmas carols continued all around us, covering our conversation.
Jack said, Do you know what good little girls get on Christmas? No? Good girls get presents from Saint Nick. Look here what I found back on your bed. He brought out a little wooden box, and April took it timidly. Open it, he coaxed.