Authors: Jeffry S.Hepple
“
All right. If that’s what you want, I won’t mention it to Paul or John.” She took a breath. “Thomas, could we go home for Christmas?”
“
I can’t afford to be gone from here that long, Jane.”
“
This is probably the last year that your mother will be at the Point.”
“
We’ll see her when she comes through next spring on her way back to Mesilla.”
“
How would you feel about me going home alone?”
“
To New Jersey?”
“
Yes.”
“
To see my mother?”
“
Yes. And Anna, Nancy and, of course, the boys.”
Thomas shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
She looked down at her hands and rubbed them together. “I’m sorry, Thomas. I was hoping you’d agree, but I’m going, with or without your approval.”
“
I forbid it, Jane.”
“
I’m going, Tom. And if you try to stop me I’ll go anyway and I may not come back.”
December 27, 1854
Van Buskirk Point, New Jersey
A
be clicked to the horses, flicked the reins, and the sleigh glided off over the snow with Anna, Nancy, Paul and Johnny in the seats behind him. “Hold on. There’s a bit of a bump crossing the pond,” he shouted.
Anna was kneeling backwards in the rear seat, waving goodbye to Marina and Jane, who were standing on the porch of the big house. “Mother looks so old.”
“
Didn’t you hear Abe?” Nancy tugged on Anna’s coat. “Turn around, sit down and hold on.”
Anna settled into the seat and took a grip with her gloved hands on the grab-bar. “That was more pleasant than any Christmas that I can remember.”
“
That’s the first Christmas that I can remember when you weren’t angry at someone,” Nancy replied.
“
Oh, that’s slanderous,” Anna complained.
“
Truth isn’t slander.” Nancy thumped Paul on the shoulder. “Isn’t that true, Pea?”
Paul looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “I’m not getting into that argument.”
~
“
This has been the nicest Christmas in years,” Jane said, waving goodbye at the sleigh. “It never seems like Christmas in Texas without snow.”
Marina opened the front door and went into the house. “It’s never seemed like Christmas to me since John died.”
It took Jane a moment to realize that Marina was speaking of her late husband. “Yes. I miss him too. He was a fine man.” With one last wave to the sleigh, she followed Marina inside and closed the door.
Marina walked to the fireplace and turned her back to it, rubbing her hands vigorously. “The cold didn’t seem to bother me as much when I was young.”
“
I should have made you put a coat on.” Jane sat down in an overstuffed chair.
“
I’m sorry that I haven’t been a better mother-in-law to you, Jane.”
“
What?” Jane shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Marina.”
“
Yes I do. I owe so many apologies to so many people that I feel like the Charles Dickens character, Jacob Marley, dragging all my sins along behind me on a long, heavy chain.”
“
My biggest regret is that I treated Clementine so badly.”
“
You’ve said that before, but, frankly, I don’t think you treated her as badly as you remember.”
“
I judged her very harshly.”
“
She deserved it. She had a tough start in life and took the easy road.”
“
I’m surprised to hear you say that.”
“
Why? Because Clementine and I were both trollops when we were girls?”
“
Well…”
“
In self-defense, I was a captive slave. My choices were to submit or die. Clementine had some freedom of choice. She chose the easy way. I might have done the same if John hadn’t come into my life, but I didn’t.”
“
Do you know what’s bothering Johnny?” Jane asked. “I tried to talk to him but he insisted that nothing’s wrong.”
“
He’s in love, that’s all.”
“
I hope that’s all.”
Marina blew on her hands. “When are you planning to go home?”
“
Are you coming with me?”
“
I might. Does that make a difference as to when you’ll leave?”
Jane dropped her eyes for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to wait until the weather’s warmer?”
“
It makes no difference to me if I’m cold here, in Texas or somewhere in between.”
Jane laughed. “If you’re wondering if I’m going to follow through with my threat to leave Tom, the answer is that I miss him.”
Marina smiled. “I never thought your threat was serious.”
“
I was planning to go back sometime in the middle of March,” Jane said.
“
Then I’ll go with you. If you don’t mind.”
“
I’d be delighted for your company.”
“
Good,” Marina said. “What shall we do until then? Or did you intend to stay cooped up here all winter?”
“
I haven’t given it much thought, but I’d dearly love to see whatever’s playing at the Astor Opera House in Manhattan.”
“
It’s closed. The Mercantile Library took over the building. But there are a number of new theaters on Broadway now.” She turned around to look into the fire. “Josiah and I saw some operas and plays in New Orleans. I think it may have been the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“
I’m sorry about Josiah, Marina. We’re all going to miss him.”
“
It’s going to be as hard to be back in Mesilla without him as it is to be here without John. Odd how you associate people with places, isn’t it?”
Jane nodded. “My father loved Manhattan. Let’s go over tomorrow, while the Christmas decorations are still up.”
“
I’d like that,” Marina replied. “But let’s take the iceboat and have some thrills on the way.”
March 1, 1855
San Francisco, California
J
ack Van Buskirk was behind his desk signing a stack of orders when the Regimental Sergeant Major looked into the office door.
“
Colonel?”
Jack looked up. “Yes, Sergeant?”
“
Sorry to bother you, sir. There’s an Indian boy that’s been pestering everybody, sayin’ that he wants to see you.”
“
What about?”
“
He won’t say.”
“
So why are you telling me this, Sergeant Major?”
“
We keep tryin’ to run him off, but he comes back and stands outside by the sidewalk like one o’ them wooden Indians they put in front of the cigar stores back east.”
Jack looked toward the rain-spattered window. “He’s out there now? In the rain?”
“
Yes, sir.”
Jack got up and walked to the window. A long-haired teenage boy was standing in the street at the edge of the sidewalk. “He looks like a drowned rat.”
“
Yes, sir. I was wonderin’, sir. That is, would you object if I let him in? Only ‘til the rain stops. There’s that empty storeroom in back. I know that regulations don’t…”
“
By all means.” Jack walked back to his desk. “Bring the boy in, dry him off and send Corporal Johansen to buy him some dry clothes. Take the money from the petty cash box, bring me the receipt and I’ll reimburse the box. When he’s dry and warm, I’ll talk to him.”
~
“
What’s your name?” Jack asked.
“
No name,” the boy answered. He was perched on the edge of a chair facing Jack and he looked as if he might flee at any moment.
“
What do people call you?”
“
Kid, Boy, Indian and some bad words.”
“
What did you want to talk to me about?”
“
They say you will be leading a wagon train north to Yellowstone.”
“
Yes.”
“
I would go with you.”
“
Why?” Jack asked.
“
To return to my people.”
“
Who are your people?”
“
Lakota.”
“
Sioux?”
The boy nodded.
Jack took a moment to answer. “We’ll be a very small train and we’re not going that far north.”
“
You are going to the Teton Valley. In the spring, my people hunt elk and buffalo in the Teton Valley.”
“
About half the wagons that’ve signed on will leave us at Fort Bridger to go west on The Oregon Trail, the others will go east to Fort Laramie and beyond. My wife and I will travel north to explore Yellowstone.”
“
Alone?”
“
Yes.”
“
A man and woman alone will die,” the boy said. “You need another gun.”
“
I need my head examined.”
“
What?”
“
Never mind. We need to find you a place to live and get you some warmer clothes.”
The boy shook his head and waved his hands. “I want nothing except to go with you. I will pay you for these clothes you bought. The sergeant told me how much.”
“
It’s not charity that I’m offering. It’s payment in advance for your services as a guide.”
The boy stood up. “When do we leave?”
“
Exactly one month from today. April first. April Fool’s Day.”
M
arch 31, 1855