Heart of the Sandhills (26 page)

Gen closed her eyes while he held her, wondering if it might be the right moment to tell—she felt his arms stiffen. “What? What’s wrong?” she asked. He was looking toward the end of the bed. He pushed her away just enough to see her face. He was frowning as he looked from her, to the bed, and back again. She followed his gaze and sat up.

“It’s all right, best beloved,” she said, touching his cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Take the blanket off,” he said between clenched teeth. “Let me see.”

She slid off the edge of the bed and onto her chair, patting his hand. “This afternoon, Daniel. “When the doctor comes.”

“Now.” He didn’t look at her at all, but began pulling at the blankets. “I want to see it now.”

With trembling hands, Gen helped him lift the blankets away. She closed her eyes briefly, then turned her back to the wounds and watched her husband’s face. He frowned as he slowly rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. He grunted and must have tried to lift the stump, because he winced and let out a big breath and lay back against the pillows. He said, “All this time it’s been hurting and it isn’t even there.”

Gen explained, “Dr. Grainger said it’s called phantom pain. It’s normal.”

“Normal.” His voice was bitter. “Normal doesn’t quite seem the word to describe it.” He grimaced and looked away. “Cover it up.”

Gen did what he asked, talking while she arranged the blankets, fluffed his pillow, walked around the end of the bed to pour a glass of water. “Dr. Grainger said he has known men who get along so well you can’t even tell they’ve had it done. Picotte is carving a wooden leg. And if everything looks all right when we change the bandage today, Dr. Grainger said you can get up and—”

“I want to be alone for a while, Blue Eyes.”

She set the cup of water down on the table and turned to face him.

“Please.”

“All right, best beloved,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek. He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm.

“You know it doesn’t matter. Not to me,” Gen said.

He looked up at her. “But it matters to me.”

She cleared her throat. “We’ll face it together. Like—”

“Don’t.” His voice was sharp. “Just—don’t, Blue Eyes. Leave me alone now.”

Gen left.

Early that afternoon, Elliot visited. He explained phantom pain and proposed that Daniel’s recuperation could be effected much more quickly at Leighton Hall.

Aaron came and prayed with him.

Edward Pope brought soup.

Robert and Big Amos said he and Genevieve should stay with their families on the Niobrara for the winter.

And Doctor Grainger came, changing the bandage, answering Daniel’s questions, assuring him there was no reason he could not have a good life.

While everyone was visiting Daniel, Captain John Willets was looking for Genevieve. He found her in the corner of an empty stall in the stables. She was sitting on the hay with her legs drawn up and her arms around her knees. Her head was bowed and she was crying as if her heart would break.

As for Daniel, after all his visitors left, he longed for Blue Eyes to come back. He wondered if he would ever be the man she needed again. And he, too, cried.

Hear my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer. From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a tower strong from the enemy.”

—Psalm 61:1–3

“Get out! Get out and leave me alone! Just
leave me alone!
”

Intending to pay Daniel another visit, Elliot had just reached for the infirmary door handle when he heard his friend yelling at the top of his lungs. But it wasn’t the anger in the voice that kept Elliot from going through the door. It was a memory; the memory of his own seething anger when he woke in a military hospital without his left hand. It was the memory of the fear and desperation that visited every amputee in turn like a dark fog creeping in the hospital ward windows at night and swirling from bed to bed. Some wounded men gave the fog added substance and shrouded themselves in it. These men might leave the hospital healed in body, but they would be forever enveloped in darkness. Others convinced themselves they would be better off dead. Elliot was amazed at how often, in spite of healing wounds, these men died. And then there were the men who fought battles with the darkness and came out victorious. They were the heroes, Elliot thought—the men who accepted the reality of missing limbs as a challenge, conquered their limitations as best they could, and used their experiences to help others. Elliot did not count himself that kind of hero. He had, after all, only lost a hand when others must learn to live without both legs . . . or, what was worse in his mind, both arms. But in the world of wounded veterans, he was at least what a pastor had once called a wounded healer—someone willing to relive his own horrible history if it would help another.

When he heard Daniel’s outburst, Elliot waited outside, praying for words to help his friend. The silence on the other side of the door was deafening. Daniel might not be yelling anymore, but Elliot knew that anger wasn’t really the problem anyway. The real problem was the other emotions—the fear and desperation. He’d heard them both in his own voice for months after his hand disappeared with a cannonball at Antietam.

How long, 0 Lord? He’s been through so much already.
Elliot prayed for Daniel.
You know all things . . . I know that You know what You are doing . . . but forgive my unbelief Father, when I ask, are You sure You know what You are doing . . . he is young, and he has already endured so much . . .

From inside the hospital, Gen’s voice sounded to interrupt Elliot’s prayer. “Please, Daniel. Just let me—”

Anger once again obscured his fear and desperation as Daniel shouted back, albeit not quite so loudly as before, “I said
no!
Now go away and leave me alone!” Bitterness crept into his voice. “Go find Captain Willets. He’s what you want, anyway.”

“What on earth are you—” Now it was Genevieve’s voice that was tinged with fear.

Accusation was flung into the room. “Don’t think I don’t see you two walking together,” Daniel said.

Elliot grimaced and formed a prayer for Gen.
Help her to stay calm, Lord. You and I both know meeting anger with anger won’t help.
He was relieved when he heard the gentle reply.

“I go out to walk around the parade grounds because you won’t let me stay when Dr. Grainger changes your bandage. I don’t see what difference it makes if John Willets—”

“Since when do you call him
John?
”

“He asked me to.” She tried to explain. “Daniel, he saved your life. We owe him—”

“I may owe him my
life
,” the voice spat out. “But I don’t owe him my
wife
.”

Gen’s voice was still reasonable, but Elliot could hear the frayed emotions just below the surface when she said, “You’re upset. You don’t mean what you’re saying. Please, dear, just let me

“I said
no!
Now get out and let me be.”

Elliot heard footsteps hurrying toward the door. In a moment it was flung open and Gen rushed out of the infirmary, tears streaming down her face. She looked at him with such desperation he could feel sympathetic tears gathering in his own eyes. He opened his arms and Gen collapsed on his shoulder, sobbing.

“I—don’t—know—what—I—did—”

“Shhh, Genevieve, shhh,” Elliot patted her shoulder. “You did nothing. It’s
him
.”

“But he thinks—”

“No, he doesn’t. Not really. He’s angry, confused, frightened, and a little desperate. All normal reactions.”

Gen finished crying. She pushed herself away. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back on the porch railing, then turned away to look off toward the snowcapped mountains. “Well, he isn’t the only one feeling confused and frightened.” She swiped at her cheeks with her palms.

“Maybe I can help,” Elliot said. “I’ll try.” He put his hand out to pat Gen on the shoulder.

Gen put her hand over his. She looked up at him, but her lips trembled and tears threatened again, so she just shook her head and turned away.

“Take all the time you need,” Elliot said gently. “I’ll stay with him until you come back.” He smiled. “I’m bigger than he is. He won’t be throwing
me
out. In fact, why don’t you go on over to visit with Mrs. Grainger? She can show you that room she thought you and Daniel could use. I suspect you’ll be needing it in the next couple of days.”

“I—” Gen swallowed hard. “I thought I might go over to the chapel and just—pray.”

“Good. And when you feel better, stop at the doctor’s.” Elliot shoved her gently toward the stairs. “It’s going to be all right, Genevieve. Really.”

She nodded, inhaled deeply, and headed for the chapel. When she heard the infirmary door open and close behind her, she turned, half-expecting Elliot to come out again—or to hear something else crash against the door. Daniel had already flung a tin cup across the room in frustration. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did it again. But there was nothing. With another glance up at the mountains and a fleeting concern about snow and being forced to spend the winter here at Fort Phil Kearney, Gen headed for the chapel.

The sawmills just beyond the stockade walls were working hard today, and as Gen sat on the chapel steps, the high-pitched whine of blades slicing through logs filled the air. She knew she should be inside praying but she was exhausted. At the moment she didn’t know what to say to God or to anyone else. And so she sat, looking around her, wondering why life had become one eternal list of unanswered questions. Just over her shoulder, a guard marched back and forth along the walkway constructed along the stockade wall. Between the officers’ quarters strung along the parade ground she could see the battery composed of several mountain howitzers. Soldiers were drilling on the parade ground. She could hear their drill sergeant shouting orders from time to time. She shivered involuntarily, but just when she stood up to go inside, John Willets hurried up.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded, frowning. “Two Moons said she heard a crash and shouting over at the infirmary. She saw you come out and Elliot go in. I’ve been looking for you. What’s wrong?”

“He was trying to use Picotte’s leg and fell. It made him angry.” She forced a smile, disconcerted that she had noticed Willets had cut his hair and trimmed his beard. John Willets was looking especially handsome today. “If Two Moons heard a crash, that was it.” She grinned feebly. “Unless she heard the tin cup he threw across the room.”

The blue eyes were flecked with anger as Willets blurted out, “He threw something—at
you?
” Without waiting for a reply, he added, “Someone needs to inform him he can’t treat you like that.”

“Of course he didn’t throw anything at
me
,” Gen said quickly. The entire confrontation was making her uncomfortable. There was a possessive tone in Willets’s voice she didn’t like. It was new, she thought—or was it? Perhaps she’d missed something.

“I appreciate your concern, but it isn’t necessary. Honestly. Elliot arrived at just the right minute. He’s gone in to talk to Daniel, and I’ve come over here to pray. We’ll work it out. We always do.” She forced a smile and opened the chapel door.

“Isn’t there something I can do for you?” Willets asked.

Gen shook her head and looked down for a moment at Willets’s polished boots. When she met his gaze again she noticed how very blue his eyes looked now that he was once again wearing his uniform. And now she was feeling not only uncomfortable, but also a little guilty. “You must be about your business now, Captain Willets. And my husband and I must be about ours.” She clasped her hands at her waist lest she reach out to put her hand on his shoulder and be misunderstood.

“And exactly what is your business?” Willets asked. “What are you going to do?”

“Well,” Gen said. “Dr. and Mrs. Grainger have invited us to stay with them for a few days. Then I suspect we’ll be leaving for Fort Laramie.”

“And then?” Willets asked. He swiped his hand across his goatee in a gesture that had become familiar. “I—I care what hap-pens to you, Genevieve. I want to know you’ll be all right.”

“You’ve been a good friend, Captain Willets,” Gen said carefully, “to both Daniel and me. We owe you a debt we will never be able to repay. And we’ll never forget you.”

The blue eyes searched hers. “But where will you go, Genevieve? Daniel’s a good man, but a man with one leg—life could be hard. What’s going to happen?”

Gen shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know.” She smiled. “But it doesn’t really matter all that much, as long as I have my Daniel.”

“Aren’t you—aren’t you at least a little afraid?” Willets asked. “Or does your faith take care of that, too?”

“I’m a Christian, John. Not inhuman. Of course I’m afraid. So is Daniel. That’s what’s at the root of those crashes Two Moons told you about.” She smiled at him. “But—
What time I am afraid I will trust in thee
.”

“That’s it, huh?” His voice was gently mocking when he said, “Just trust in God and He’ll fix everything.”

“Not exactly,” Gen replied. “He doesn’t fix everything. He’s not going to give my husband a new leg. At least not a flesh and blood one.”

“So where’s the good in your faith?”

Gen thought for a moment. “I think perhaps the good is in the fact that while He doesn’t fix every
thing
, He can and does fix every
one
.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Gen glanced past him toward the infirmary while she groped for an answer. “My faith in God isn’t some ticket out of trouble. It helps me
through
and
in
the trouble. God doesn’t fix everything for His children so they don’t have difficulty. Actually, now that I think about it, what God does is something better than that. He promises to go
through
it with us. He says,
I will never leave you nor forsake you
. Think of that, John. If you know the God of the universe is right beside you, then you can pretty much take anything the world can throw at you.”

Willets nodded his head in the direction of the infirmary. “Seems to me Daniel forgot that.”

Gen nodded her head. “You could be right. What’s wonderful, though, is that whether or not Daniel remembers God is there, God hasn’t forgotten him. He’s still there in that infirmary with him.” Gen smiled. “Eventually Daniel will remember that.”

“So God was next to Daniel when old Doc Grainger was sawing away, huh?” Willets said. When Gen winced, he stepped for-ward and touched her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Genevieve—I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” Gen held her hand out to him. “No, that’s all right. But let me answer you. The answer is yes, John. Yes, God was there. And since I think I know your next question, I’ll say yes, God could have blinked His eye and restored Daniel’s leg. But here’s how I think about that: since He didn’t, that must mean He has something Daniel must learn that he could only learn with one leg.” Gen broke off. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh, John,” she said, “I only wish you could understand what I’m talking about. To you it probably sounds like a lot of nonsense. But I’m so glad you let me say it, because it was exactly what
I
needed to hear.”

“Can I—can we talk again sometime—about what you just said?”

Gen shook her head. She blushed as she said, “Daniel is concerned about—about our—friendship. There isn’t anything for him to be concerned about, but he is my husband and—”

Willets searched her eyes for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Of course. I understand.”

Gen tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and flung a plea for wisdom to heaven. Finally, she put her hand on his shoulder. “If God is calling you, John Willets—and I think He is—you aren’t going to be able to get away from Him. There are others who can answer your questions and give you answers. At least to the questions that have answers.”

“And what about the ones that don’t have answers?”

“Why, that’s what
faith
is for, John,” Gen said quietly. She patted his shoulder and then took her hand away. Now she could smile at him with true warmth. The something that had made her uncomfortable had been removed. She was free to care about John Willets’s soul—and only his soul.