A Dream Unfolding (38 page)

Leading her to the wagon, he helped her climb up on the seat, sitting next to her.
 
Not knowing what else to do, he placed his arms around her.
 
He hoped his compassion would give her some comfort.
 
Silently he prayed for her, that God would not leave her and that she would be able to heal from this dreadful blow, for he was certain it was just that.
 
Many times he witnessed hints at the deep abiding love shared between Drew and Hannah.
 
How does one go on after losing someone so intertwined?

After a while, Mrs. Lancaster came by with some water, her eyes red-rimmed as well.
 
Hannah was still crying but not with the same force.
 
Climbing up next to Hannah, Mrs. Lancaster wrapped her in a warm embrace, freeing Joshua from his duty.
 
Her eyes said that it was alright for him to leave Hannah in her care.

Stiffly he retreated from the wagon, headed towards his tent.
 
Joshua fought the raw emotion that welled within him.
 
Drew was gone.
 
Not only did he save Joshua’s life when he suffered from that bullet wound, but Drew also led him to the one who saved his soul.
 
He answered all of Joshua’s questions about God, no matter how silly or insignificant they seemed—questions that dogged him for years.
 
And in the process, the two men became fast friends.
 
Joshua taught Drew how to shoot a rifle, how to watch the sky for signs of approaching weather, how to watch the area around him for danger.
 
But, it had not been enough to keep him from such an awful death.

What would become of Hannah?
 
Who would drive her wagon the rest of the way to Granite Creek?
 
What would she do to survive in this wilderness?

As he neared his tent, Sergeant Bixley approached.
 
“Lieutenant Harrison, Major Willis is asking for you.”

Numbly, Joshua walked towards the major’s tent.
 
He noticed the hunting party returned and butchered several elk.
 
Food that cost him his friend’s life, he thought bitterly.
 
Fires were now blazing.
 
They would have both the heat and food they needed.
 
Yet, the thought did not bring him much comfort.

Stepping into the major’s tent, he cleared his throat.
 
“Sir?”

“Lieutenant, sit down.
 
Fill me in on what happened,” requested the major.
 
Joshua—the lieutenant—recounted the story emotionlessly with the practiced ease of an experienced officer.
 
In truth, he was thankful for his military training in moments like these, for Joshua—the man—would not be quite so composed.
 
After finishing his report, he requested permission to leave.
 
The major dismissed him, but Joshua hesitated.

“Is there something else, Lieutenant Harrison?” the major asked.

“Yes sir.”
 
Joshua paused as the thought from mere seconds ago, fell from his lips, “With your permission, sir, I would like to drive Mrs. Anderson’s team for the remainder of the journey.
 
I feel it is my duty to see her safely to her destination.”
 
It was the least he could do for the man he owed his own life.

“Harrison, this is most irregular,” sputtered Major Willis, “but, I will agree to it.
 
Have Sergeant Bixley provide me with the daily reports.
 
He can also keep watch over your men until we reach Fort Whipple.
 
At that time, I will expect you to return to your duties.”

“Thank you, sir,” Joshua replied this time leaving the tent when dismissed.
 
With determined steps, he headed back towards Hannah’s wagon.
 
He would do everything he could for Drew’s wife, no matter the cost.

Sometime during the night, Hannah woke with a start.
 
Momentarily forgetting what happened, she bolted upright.
 
As the fog of sleep began to lift, everything came back in heavy, undaunted grief.
 
Drew was dead.
 
She was alone.
 
God had forsaken her.
 
Tears began to fall again.
 
Her head hurt from all the crying and her eyelids felt heavy.
 
Irritably, she frantically swiped at the tears wishing she could make them stop.

How could you!
 
Her heart screamed in anger at God.
 
How could a loving God lead them to a new land, only to leave her a widow on the doorstep of their new life?
 
This journey was supposed to bring hope—a new life.
 
Instead, it brought death.
 
Drew’s death.
 
The death of her heart, her only true love.
 
There was no life without her beloved Drew.
 
What kind of God are you?

Realizing her fists were balled so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, she shifted her position and released her grip.
 
Her stomach growled.
 
She could not remember the last time she ate.
 
Quietly moving about, she stepped off the wagon to stand by the dying campfire—light that matched the dimness of her heart.

When she looked up, even in the deep shadows of night, she realized they were not camped in the same place.
 
Frightened she looked around.
 
The light of the moon reflected on the snow capped mountains, which were further away than she remembered them.
 
Where was she?

She wished she would have known they were leaving.
 
Had the men from the wagon train found Drew’s body?
 
Was he given a proper burial?
 
Or would his grave be unmarked, melting away as winter turned to spring?
 
The morbid thought brought a fresh wave of tears.

Hearing someone stir in the tent pitched next to her, Hannah froze in place.
 
Why was there a tent next to their wagon?
 
Her wagon.
 
There is no more us.
 
Her mind reminded her again of her widowhood.
 
Seeing nothing was where
she
left it, she climbed back into the wagon.
 
Sitting stiffly, she pulled the blanket around her and crossed her arms in defiance.
  
Her anger boiled over.
 
She wanted to scream.

“Hannah,” she heard her name being whispered as the weight of someone’s step shifted the wagon to one side.
 
Hope grew within her.
 
Was it Drew?
 
Was this all a bad dream?
 
Was he really here?

Just as she parted her lips to speak his name, reality killed her heart.
 
The man’s head poking through the opening of the wagon cover looked familiar, but it was not her beloved.
 
As he spoke her name a second time, she recognized the voice.
 
Since when had Lieutenant Harrison started calling her by her first name?
 
And what was he doing here?

“I heard you stirring.
 
Can I get you anything?
 
Are you alright?
 
You must be thirsty, let me get you some water,” he whispered in rapid succession.
 
She felt the wagon shift weight twice more, likely him getting down and then back up again.

“Here,” he said.

She took the offered cup of water and chugged it in the most un-ladylike manner, swiping away the dribbles with the back of her hand.

Still leaning into the wagon from the springboard seat, Lieutenant Harrison said, “We’ve been so worried about you.
 
You have been impossible to stir for two days now.
 
Even with all the swaying and lurching of the wagon, you have not moved in the slightest.”
 
His concern was evident.

She said nothing.
 
She was still too angry.
 
And she really did not care if anyone was concerned or not.
 
Her husband was gone and her life was over.
 
They could just stop her wagon by the side of the road and leave her here to die.
 
It mattered little to her.
 
In fact, it did not matter at all.

“Would you like something to eat?” the lieutenant asked.
 
“I can find the bread Mrs. Lancaster set aside for you?
 
Or I can see if I can find some dried beef?
 
Do you have a preference?”

Hannah did not make any noise or acknowledge him in any way.
 
She did not care if she ever ate again.
 
Her Drew was gone.

She startled when the lieutenant touched her shoulder softly.

“Hannah, you have to eat something.
 
If not for you, then for the baby.”

His comment angered her further.
 
She grabbed his hand and threw it from her shoulder before spewing forth words coated in bitterness.
 
“What baby?
 
I don’t have a baby.
 
What are you talking about?”
 
Was she losing her mind?

“Mrs. Lancaster said you were…um…with child and that if you moved so much as an inch I should ensure you ate.”

The truth hit her, almost physically knocking her back as she suddenly realized she
was
with child.
 
That explained the nausea for the past few weeks.
 
She placed her hand on her stomach, tears streaming down her face again.
 
This was not the picture of family she longed for.
 
This was Drew’s child.
 
He was supposed to be here, at her side, to raise this child with her.
 
Family was not a widow in a wilderness raising her child alone.
 
But, she would do what she could for her child, her last living link to her treasured Drew.

Barely audible, she whispered, “Some bread would be nice.”
 
Needing little encouragement the lieutenant quickly offered her a small meal of bread, dried beef, and more water.

Still sitting in the dark wagon, she nibbled slowly.
 
The lieutenant remained on the wagon seat as she ate, not attempting further conversation.
 
Only when she finished eating and was once again settled down to sleep did he return to his tent.

As sunlight filtered through the opening of the wagon cover, Hannah woke.
 
The wagon was already swaying.
 
Curious as to who was driving the wagon, Hannah moved so she could see out the narrow opening.
 
It was Lieutenant Harrison!
 
Shouldn’t he be with the cavalry?
 
What was he doing?

Though she wanted to stay abed all day and forget the tragedy consuming her thoughts, an urgent need to relieve herself spurred her forward.
 
She climbed through the opening and took a seat next to the lieutenant.

“How are you this morning?” he tentatively asked.

Clearing her throat, she lied, “Fine.”
 
She would never be fine again.