Chasing the Sun (13 page)

“Well, I’m not opposed to Him,” Tyler replied casually.

Hannah didn’t expect such an answer and turned to study him. It was too dark to see him clearly, but she could tell he was returning her gaze. “Exactly what is that supposed to mean, Lieutenant?”

“I guess . . . that is to say, I figured God gave me strength to make my way in the world. He expects me to go about my business and do the right thing.”

“And how do you determine what the right thing might be, Lieutenant?”

He said nothing for a moment, and Hannah wondered if she’d upset him. Men were funny creatures when it came to discussing God. “I suppose that you believe as Benjamin Franklin stated—that ‘God helps those who help themselves’?”

“I thought that was a Bible verse, to tell you the truth.”

“Not at all. God does indeed call us to go about our business and do the right thing, but I believe our business is to know Him better, and that the right thing can only be determined by studying His Word.”

“Whoowee, Miss Dandridge, you sound like a regular Sunday preacher. But I didn’t ask you out here to talk about God.”

“And so what did you wish to discuss, Lieutenant?”

“You. I figure you’re about the prettiest gal in all of Texas. Do you have a beau?”

Hannah hadn’t realized this was the direction Lieutenant Atherton had figured to take. “My father’s partner has proposed marriage,” she replied. “However, with my father missing, I cannot even begin to think of courtship or proposals.”

“Your father’s partner is Mr. Lockhart, is he not?”

“That’s right. Do you know him?”

“Enough to know he’s not a good choice for you. He’s old enough to be your pa. Most likely he just wants what he can get from you—money and property and such. He’s that kind of a man.”

Hannah bristled. “I see.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it to sound like you weren’t prize enough. It’s just that someone like Lockhart is always thinking of his own needs, and if your pa is . . . well . . . if he’s not coming back, then Lockhart probably figures to get this ranch for himself.”

“Well, thank you, Lieutenant Atherton, for sharing your opinion with me.”

“On the other hand, Miss Dandridge, I admire you for yourself. I think you’re a fine woman.”

Hannah shook her head. “You are kind to say so, Lieutenant. However, if you would excuse me, I promised my brother and sister I would read to them.”

He reached out to take hold of her arm. “I’m sorry if my boldness offended you. It’s just that I don’t have much time, and I thought I should make my interest known. Will said you weren’t anything to him . . . I mean . . . Well now, that sounded bad. He just told me that you two weren’t a couple or . . .”

Hannah didn’t know why it hurt to hear him say that she wasn’t anything to William Barnett. She didn’t want to be anything to him, but at the same time it stung her heart that he would tell his friend that she was nothing.

“Thank you for the compliment you are paying me, Lieutenant Atherton, but I have no interest in seeking a beau. And Mr. Barnett is quite correct. We are nothing to each other.” With that she left the lieutenant and made her way into the house.

T
he cows, they give good today,” Juanita said, setting two pails of milk alongside the two Hannah had just placed on the table.

“They did indeed. And the chickens laid well, too. We’re in high cotton, as my father would have once said. It’s a blessing, too, with all the extra mouths to feed.”

“Sí. Those men, they get hungry.”

Hannah nodded. “I’m just glad that they appreciate ham and beans. It’s probably more than most Confederate soldiers are getting.”

“You are good to share with them, Miss Hannah,” Juanita said, placing a cloth over the pails.

“It’s our duty to feed the hungry,” Hannah replied. She shaded her eyes and looked out across the yard to the sloping hills and prairie. The men had gone out early to round up steers close to home. She had no idea of when they would return, but given her agreement with He Who Walks in Darkness, Hannah felt somewhat confident her family would be safe enough here at the ranch.

“Mr. Will tell me they should be back by supper. Tomorrow they will travel much farther. I will make them food to take, but what would you like for us to eat tonight?”

Hannah considered it for a moment. “Why don’t you make that spicy pork he likes so much?” Truth be told, it was a favorite of hers, as well. “We’ll have that with rice and corn bread. And since we have plenty of eggs and milk, would you make us some flan, as well?”

“Sí, that will be a very good treat.” Juanita smiled. “Mr. Will like flan very much.”

Hannah didn’t reply. She wasn’t looking to please Mr. Barnett. Her heart was still troubled by Mr. Lockhart’s declaration that William had fought at Vicksburg. She tried to put it from her mind—had prayed that God would give her peace about the matter—but still the horror of it all lingered in her mind.

“Miss Hannah, you must know Mr. Will is a good man. I know him for a very long time now. He was always good to his mama and she love him very much. I think he was her favorite. Mr. Lyle, he was more like their papa. But they were all good people.”

“I’m sure they were, Juanita.” Hannah tried to put aside her thoughts of Vicksburg. “After all, they brought you here and kept you on to run the place. I’m so glad for our friendship.” She looked at the woman and smiled. “I honestly wouldn’t have gotten through these last months without you, Juanita. You have been a good friend.”

“I’m glad we are friends. Mr. Barnett, he did not like to be friends with his workers.”

“You’re speaking of the father?”

“Sí. He like your father. They are men who keep orders.”

Hannah wasn’t sure she understood. “Keep orders? What do you mean?”

“They are the boss. They work to run the ranch.”

“Oh, you mean they order people about? Yes, that’s true. My father comes from a long line of men who give orders.”

“Give orders. Sí.” She paused and nodded her head. “This is what I mean.”

“I grew up in a house where everything was well managed,” Hannah said, remembering her childhood. “My grandparents owned three slaves and the slaves cared for the house. My grandfather and father were lawyers—
abogados
,” she added, using the Spanish she’d learned while in Dallas.

Juanita smiled and nodded. Hannah liked being able to learn some of the woman’s language, though it was completely foreign to Hannah. She’d not known a single person of Mexican descent until coming to Texas.

“As lawyers, they made good money and we shared a large house. So having people to do the household work was something I always knew. That’s why it was so hard for me to come here. Even in Dallas we had a housekeeper. I’ve had to learn so much living out here. Especially about taking care of children.”

“It is a hard life here,” Juanita agreed. “You have been a good mother to Andy and Marty. They are most lucky to have your love.”

“I can’t imagine my life without them,” Hannah admitted.

Movement on the horizon caught Hannah’s attention. She squinted and put her hand to her forehead as a single mounted rider drew closer. The rider was clearly Comanche, but she didn’t recognize him until he’d come nearly halfway to the house.

“It’s Night Bear,” Hannah said in surprise. She noted that he still wore the splint and sling she’d put on his arm.

She and Juanita stepped to the edge of the yard to greet him. “Night Bear, you are welcome here,” Hannah said with a wave of her hand.

The young man halted his horse. “We have great sickness in our village and need your help.”

“What seems to be wrong?” Hannah questioned, walking closer. “Describe what the sickness is.”

“My father sends me to you. He does not know what this sickness is. There are little sores all over the faces, the hands of our people. They have fever and much pain.”

Hannah looked to Juanita. “It sounds like smallpox, but I can’t be sure.” She turned back to Night Bear. “Where is your village from here?”

He pointed back and to the northwest. “A day’s ride. I stopped along the way to rest, but must return now. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Hannah said without thinking.

Juanita put her hand on Hannah’s arm. “Miss Hannah, you cannot go. Mr. Will would never want you to do this.”

If anything, Juanita’s words only served to make up Hannah’s mind. “I am going to go and help these people. They’ve come to us in need. To do otherwise wouldn’t be Christian. Let’s gather some food and medicine, and I will go and do what I can. When the men return, you can tell them where I’ve gone and that Night Bear is seeing to my care.”

She could see that Juanita wasn’t at all happy with this plan. “Night Bear, I must get some things, but I will come with you to the village. Have you eaten?”

He nodded. “But I would like more of your sweet bread.” He smiled. “It was very good.”

“I don’t have any sweet rolls made,” Hannah apologized. “But we have cookies. You can have some with milk if you like while you are waiting for me, and then I will take some extra with us for the road.”

He threw his leg over the head of the horse and jumped to the ground. “I come.”

Half an hour later, Hannah rode out from the ranch with Night Bear. She felt apprehensive now that she’d had time to really consider what she was doing. White women had been taken hostage by the various tribes in the area—some were returned and some were never heard from again. She prayed she was making the right choice. She knew Mr. Barnett would never approve.

“Why did your father send you for me?” she asked Night Bear.

“He said you were good with my healing. Our medicine man is dead. Most of our older people, too. Almost everyone has the sickness. We are very weak.”

“But you aren’t sick.”

He looked at her and for the first time Hannah noticed he seemed more than just tired. “You are sick, aren’t you?”

“I am not so sick yet. I do not have the sores. I just feel much pain in my head.”

“Oh, Night Bear, I am so sorry. Can you make it back to the village? You said it would take us all day.”

“It will be night when we reach my people. We are hidden in the rocky places far beyond. I will be able to ride there.”

As the journey continued, however, Hannah could see Night Bear growing weaker and weaker. She tried to make certain he drank plenty of water, and at one point insisted they brew some willow tea for him to drink. The tea seemed to help and as they continued out across the vast unmarked land, Hannah couldn’t help but wonder if they might come across some of the ranch hands or soldiers who were rounding up cattle. But the farther they traveled the less likely that possibility seemed.

The sun set early, as was the pattern with the coming of the winter months. Hannah was only a little afraid. Her fear of wild animals was second only to her concern about renegade Indians. Night Bear didn’t seem to mind the darkness, and as the sky once again filled with stars, Hannah found that she didn’t fear it so much herself.

There was a real sense of peace in her spirit. God had sent her here. He had sent Night Bear to her for such a time as this.

She knew her healing skills were only average, but her mother had taught her much—her grandmother, too. Juanita had added to that knowledge with frontier skills that were necessary to endure life in Texas. But if God had sent her to these people, then God would also send her the wisdom to deal with their illness. If it was smallpox, there wasn’t a great deal she could do for the Numunuu
,
but see to their comfort.

She had no idea of the hour when they finally reached a series of ravines and rocky crags. Night Bear maneuvered them along a narrow path until finally they were well hidden in the canyon. Before long, they came upon the village without Hannah even realizing it. Only the fact that Night Bear had halted his horse and was dismounting told her that they’d arrived.

A faint glow of light came from across a small circle of darkness. Hannah strained to see and thought she could trace the pattern of several tepees.

“You can get down. We will go to my father first.”

Hannah did as she was told, surprised to find that there were two other men who had silently joined them. Night Bear spoke swiftly in his native tongue and the men replied with what sounded like grunts to Hannah.

“They will take care of our horses and bring your things. Come. We will speak with my father.”

Pulling her coat close, Hannah prayed that God would show her what to do. She thought only momentarily of how angry Mr. Barnett and the lieutenant would be when they realized she was gone.

Night Bear pulled open the flap to one of the tepees and motioned her inside. Hannah’s senses were assaulted with the stench of sickness and unwashed bodies. A small fire had been made in the center of the room, but it was dying out. Along the walls of the tepee, Hannah could see two people lying on the ground.

Moving to one side, Night Bear knelt and spoke to his father. Hannah remained standing, not knowing what else she should do. The young warrior motioned her over.

“My father would like to know what this sickness is.”

“I will need light,” she told Night Bear. “Build up the fire. I have some candles in my bags. Have them brought here quickly.”

He did as she instructed while Hannah knelt beside the chief. “I was sorry to hear you were sick,” she told him.

The Comanche looked up at her with a glazed expression. His black hair splayed out wildly around him. “My people are dying—many are dead.”

She nodded. “Night Bear told me. It sounds like smallpox, but I will need to see better before I can be certain. Even then, I’ve only seen it once before. I’ve had medicine to prevent my getting it, so I should be able to help you without taking sick.”

“Here are your things,” Night Bear said, motioning the two men into the tepee. One brought Hannah’s supplies while the other stoked the fire and added wood. The room brightened considerably and Hannah realized she didn’t need to worry about the candles.

Studying the sores on He Who Walks in Darkness, Hannah’s suspicions were confirmed. It was smallpox. She glanced at Night Bear, who stood swaying slightly to her right. “You need to get to bed,” she told him.

He Who Walks in Darkness looked at her in question. “Your son is sick with the smallpox, just as you are. I presume most of the village people are ill?”

He nodded, but spoke in Comanche to Night Bear. Hannah heard the boy reply “Haa—yes.” Then he went to a pallet and sank to the ground.

“Can you cure us?”

Hannah looked at the chief and shook her head. “No, there is no cure for this. I can, however, help to make you comfortable. The strong will survive this, but the weaker ones will most likely die. I will not lie to you—it is a horrible disease.”

He closed his eyes. “It is good you do not lie. Ura
.
”

“You are welcome,” Hannah replied. “Now rest. I will get some willow bark tea brewing and check on the others.” She looked to Night Bear. “I’m sorry, but I suppose I will need your help a bit longer. I do not wish to alarm your people. They will need to know that I am not here to harm them.”

Night Bear nodded. He got to his feet. “I will show you to the others and explain.”

Hannah drew a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy no matter how she looked at it. Smallpox had swept through the village—probably brought to them by diseased blankets or some other trade goods. Now that it was here, however, it wouldn’t just go away without exacting a huge toll.