Chasing the Sun (15 page)

“Have many died?” He Who Walks in Darkness asked.

Hannah knelt beside the chief. “Yes. Over half the people are dead. Many of the others are sick and may well die.”

He closed his eyes and grimaced. Hannah washed him with the warm water and wondered at the Comanche’s spiritual convictions. Did they believe in God? Or did they worship creation? She’d heard that some tribes honored a long list of spirits.

“Might I ask you a question?”

The chief opened his eyes. “Haa.”

Hannah smiled. “I wonder if you would tell me about your beliefs in God.”

“God? The white man’s God?”

She shrugged. “Or any other that you esteem.”

“I’ve no time for gods. I am a warrior—my life is war. We are . . . strong.”

“But what of this? What of dying? Do you believe in life after death?”

He Who Walks in Darkness seemed to consider her question. “There is a life after death, but it is no good to die like an old woman. My men should die in battle—I should die in battle.”

“I believe in Jesus,” Hannah told him while continuing to bathe his sores. “I believe that God—the one true God—sent His Son, Jesus, to save us from our sins.”

“What are sins?”

Hannah was surprised that he would hold any interest at all in what she had to say. She tried to pretend it was a normal question. “Sins are wrongdoings. Things that we do that go against what God wants us to do. Like stealing or killing. Those are sins.”

“Those are my ways,” the sick man replied.

She offered him a slight smile. “Unfortunately, we all have sins. We are sinful people. We do whatever pleases us rather than working to please God.”

“The spirits look for strength in a man. Not white man’s . . .” He seemed to struggle for the right word. “White man’s . . . religion.”

Pausing in her work, Hannah tried to think of how she could share her heart. The language barrier was a bit of a problem, but not as great as it might have been. She thought of how she might speak to Marty or Andy—not in a way to belittle them, but rather to make the concept simple.

“Do you know what the Bible is?” she asked.

“White man’s God book.”

“Yes. It is a collection of God’s wisdom and teachings to us. The Bible shows us who God is and how He wants us to live.” When He Who Walks in Darkness said nothing, Hannah continued.

“The Bible says we have all sinned. We’ve all done things that go against what God would like for us to do. We hurt each other and do things that cause great pain. That isn’t what God wants. He wants us to love each other, because He loves us.” She picked up the towel and began to wash him once again. “God says that payment for sin is death.”

“Every man will die,” He Who Walks in Darkness countered weakly.

“Yes, in the body,” she agreed, “but there is also the death of the spirit. Without being clean from our wrongdoing, we cannot please God. We cannot enter heaven. I don’t want your people to die without knowing God’s Son, Jesus. Jesus came to earth to save us from our sins. He died a horrible death as a sacrifice for our sin. If we believe in Him and ask Him to be Lord of our life, then we can be set free from the penalty for our sins.”

“White man’s stories.”

She looked at the chief and shook her head. “No, it’s so much more. I am here because I felt God wanted me to help you. I came to care for you and your people, as if I were caring for Jesus—my Lord. I know that must seem strange to you, but I speak the truth. I told you earlier that this disease is very bad. I told you I would not lie to you. I’m not lying now.”

“The white man has his ways. The Numunuu have their ways. The white man’s God would not want the Numunuu, just as the white man does not want us. So we will fight. We will make war on your people until we are gone from this place.”

Hannah felt a sadness overwhelm her. Perhaps if she spoke the Numunuu language, then she would be able to convince this very sick man that God truly did love him—that the color of his skin was not important to God.

Seeing that the chief was exhausted from their conversation, Hannah finished his care and got up to go. “I will pray for your people. I will pray to my God for you, He Who Walks in Darkness. I will pray that you will find a way to walk in the light.”

Leaving him, Hannah went to the small tepee Night Bear had shown her to the night before. The place had belonged to two older women whose husbands died early in the epidemic. The women also died shortly before Hannah had come to stay with the Comanche.

She slipped off her boots and took her place on a pallet she’d made earlier. Fearful of disease, she had boiled the blankets given to her that morning. It had taken all day to dry in the humid air, but tonight they felt useable. Hannah wrapped up in the blankets and had just drifted off for a few minutes of sleep when she heard a commotion outside. Straining to hear what the problem might be, she was startled to recognize William Barnett’s voice.

Hannah jumped to her feet and ran out of the tepee in her stockings. She saw Red Dog confronting a man just beyond the fire.

“Mr. Barnett?” she asked.

“It’s me,” he replied. “I’m trying to convince this man that I’m no threat to him.”

She drew closer and could see that Red Dog had a knife drawn. She put out her hand and touched the warrior’s forearm. Shaking her head, she smiled. “Mr. Barnett is a friend.” Red Dog continued to eye Barnett suspiciously, but he lowered the knife. Hannah was glad that William could speak the language. “Would you please tell him that you are a friend and you’ve come to help?”

“I’ve been trying to tell him that,” William all but growled.

Red Dog looked to her and Hannah reached out and took hold of William’s hand. Patting the top of it while smiling, she repeated the word
friend
while William gave him the Numunuu word.

“Haits. E-haitsma.”

This seemed to appease Red Dog. He grunted several words to William before leaving them. Hannah waited for a translation.

“He says I am to share your tepee.”

H
annah hadn’t thought it would be possible to sleep. Mr. Barnett put his gear inside the tepee, but quickly assured her that he wouldn’t risk her reputation by sleeping inside when she was there. Instead, he built a very small fire just outside and placed his bedroll there. Hannah felt bad for him having to endure the cooler night air without a shelter, and when she heard rain falling against the thin leather skins of the tepee, she felt it her duty to bring him inside.

“Mr. Barnett, I believe the space is large enough to accommodate us both,” she told him from the opening of her shelter. “With this rain, I cannot in good faith allow you to get sick from exposure.”

“I’ve camped out in worse, Miss Dandridge. Rest assured, I’m capable of sleeping in the rain.”

“Perhaps.” She stiffened and replied, “But I think it unwise. I hardly need for you to fall ill, too
.
We will neither one be in any state of undress, and anyone can walk in at any time to see that we are above reproach. I hardly think it will compromise either of us.”

Barnett looked at her for a moment, and then with slow, determined actions he got up from the fire, gathered his things, and followed her into the shelter.

Hannah pretended it didn’t bother her to see him stretch out on the ground across the fire from her. She tried to rationalize that he had followed her there only because of his anger at her traipsing off without his permission. Her heart had very nearly stopped at the sight of him, however.

Attraction to the enemy was something Hannah knew was surely warned against in the Bible. For this reason alone, she didn’t want to think of William Barnett, but the sound of his soft breathing kept leading her mind to dangerous places. She wrestled with her thoughts of this man and his Union affiliation, and it was with those thoughts that she finally fell asleep.

When she awoke hours later, it seemed as though she’d only just closed her eyes. She looked over to the place where William had been and found his bedroll empty. Sitting up, Hannah wondered at the time. She pulled on her boots and did up the laces as quickly as her fingers would move, feeling a sense of urgency to learn where William had gone and why.

Exiting the tepee, Hannah shivered at the cooler temperature. The ground was still wet, but the rain had stopped. Although her first concern was William’s whereabouts, Hannah made her way to the chief’s lodgings. Entering, Hannah found things about the same. Little Bird was still clinging to life, but barely. Hannah found herself praying for the woman’s soul. What if no one had ever told her about Jesus? What if she died without knowing that she could be saved for all eternity? The thought saddened Hannah. How many people died every day without knowing that God loved them and had given them a free gift of eternal life?

He Who Walks in Darkness was sleeping rather peacefully. Hannah was glad that the urgency of the illness was passing for him. He would no doubt recover, but his skin would be horribly marked. Knowing the Indian beliefs, he would probably just see the pox scars as a mark of victory.

Hannah slipped over to Night Bear and to her surprise found him awake and watching her. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she told him. “How are you feeling today?”

“My head is much better. It doesn’t pain me like before.”

“Good. That’s a very good sign.” She surveyed his blisters. They weren’t nearly as numerous or severe as the pox on some of the others.

“Do you feel like taking some broth?”

Night Bear nodded, then reached out to touch her arm. “I have questions.”

“I will try to have answers.”

“You spoke to my father about the white God.” His dark eyes searched her face. “Did you speak truth?”

Hannah smiled. “I did. God is—”

“I thought I might find you here,” William Barnett interrupted.

Hannah glanced over her shoulder. “I see you are well.” She held herself aloof. “Could you please bring some broth for Night Bear?” She tried not to notice how his rather disheveled appearance only served to draw her attention. His brown hair seemed a little more wavy than usual, and the top of his bib shirt was unbuttoned and folded back to reveal a hint of dark chest hair. She looked away quickly, lest her thoughts betray her.

“Certainly,” he replied. Then without another word he was gone.

Hannah turned back to Night Bear and smiled. “God is love, the Bible says. He is also faithful. He will forgive you your sins if you ask Him to.”

“And He will keep me from death?” Night Bear asked, struggling to rise a bit.

“Spiritual death, yes. As I told your father, everyone dies a physical death.”

“I do not know your God.” Night Bear closed his eyes as if suddenly weak. He fell back against his pallet. “Would you tell me of Him?”

Feeling her heart skip a beat, Hannah nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I would happily tell you about God and His Son, Jesus. God is the great Father of all. He created the world and all that is in it. But He saw that man was given over to sin and needed a savior. Because of this, He sent His Son—Jesus. Jesus came to earth as a man, even though He was God.”

Night Bear opened his eyes and looked at her. “This Jesus is here now?”

“In a way,” Hannah said. “You see, in those days it was necessary to have a blood sacrifice for sins—wrongdoings. The people would offer up an animal, and by shedding its blood they were forgiven their sins.”

“Your God requires blood?”

“Yes. At least He did until Jesus came. Jesus offered mankind a way free from his bad behavior. Jesus shed his own blood in order to give man a connection to God. His blood covers the sins of the world, and we no longer need additional blood.

“You see, Jesus knew that we could not help ourselves, so He willingly gave His life to help us.”

“He does not sound like a warrior,” Night Bear said. “The Numunuu are warriors. Our God would need to be a warrior.”

Hannah smiled. “Jesus is definitely a warrior. He loves His people, but He fights against Satan and his demons.”

“Who is this Satan?”

“He is the enemy of God and God’s people. The devil, or Satan, as he is named, tries to steal people away from God.” She considered the life of a Comanche in order to better explain. “Satan goes out and looks for people to steal from God. When a person doesn’t have Jesus for their Savior, Satan tries to trap those people into a life that serves him. God protects His people, however. God has promised to never leave us.”

“But I do not see Him here,” Night Bear said, looking around the room. “You said your Jesus was here.”

“And so He is,” Hannah said, putting her hand to her heart. “He lives within me, within all who accept Him. He is here beside me and all around me. I cannot see Him in the flesh, but He makes His presence known by giving me the Holy Spirit.”

“A spirit—a ghost spirit?”

“The Holy Spirit is often called the Holy Ghost. He is the very essence of God’s heart. When Jesus returned to heaven, where Father God awaited Him, He promised to send the Spirit to us. He knew we would need help.”

“To fight this devil?”

“Yes. And for a time God has allowed Satan to cause problems, but He won’t let it go on forever. He is coming back to put an end to Satan.”

“He will kill him?” Night Bear asked.

“Yes. He will put him in the lake of fire for all time.”

“Where is this lake of fire?”

“I don’t suppose I know, but I do believe it exists . . . or will when the time comes.”

Hannah hadn’t heard William return, but when she looked up he was standing there listening to her. She reached up for the bowl of broth and ignored any thought of trying to explain. Perhaps he thought her foolish, trying to save the Numunuu.

“I’ve checked on the others. Two died in the night, and I’ve helped Red Dog prepare them for burial,” William told her.

Hannah hadn’t even thought of the burial rite. “Is there a ceremony?”

“Yes, but the ritual hasn’t been honored in full. There isn’t time and there aren’t people to participate because they’re either dead or sick.”

She nodded and turned back to help Night Bear drink a bit of the broth. “Thank you,” she told William.

When she finished with Night Bear, Hannah made her way outside, only to find Mr. Barnett waiting for her.

“We need to talk,” he stated.

“I suppose you are angry that I’ve come here, but before you rebuke me, know this: I came here to aid dying people. I don’t care that they are Comanche or dangerous. They are human beings and they needed help. I am tired of people telling me that I must go here or stay there when God clearly has other plans for me.”

Mr. Barnett said nothing, so she continued.

“Furthermore, He Who Walks in Darkness apparently trusted me enough to send for me. That kind of trust should be honored, and so I came. I do not fear my own death, Mr. Barnett.”

“William.”

She looked at him oddly. “What?”

“Stop calling me Mr. Barnett . . . please. Call me William.”

With great hesitancy she nodded. “Very well. William. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .”

“No, I won’t.” He reached out and took hold of her arm. “What you’ve done here is not at all wise. In fact, it’s probably the most foolish thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

“Once again, Mr. Barnett . . . William . . . ‘God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise.’ ”

“Meaning exactly what?” he asked, refusing to release her.

Hannah glared at his hand. Mr. Lockhart was generally good enough to recognize his mistake and remove his inappropriate touch, but not so William Barnett. When Hannah returned her focus to his eyes, he only fixed her with a hard stare.

“I mean that obviously you believe yourself much wiser than anyone else.”

“Wiser than you, to be sure,” he interrupted.

“Be that as it may, you give no credence to the possibility that I was following direction from a higher authority.”

“So God told you to risk your life and come here?”

“The risk was minimal compared to the need, wouldn’t you say?”

He shook his head, his expression dark. “No, I wouldn’t say that at all. The risk was great. What if you had been taken by another band of Indians or even another tribe? What if Night Bear had gotten sick before you reached camp? You didn’t even know where he was taking you.”

“That’s true, Mr. Barnett.” She didn’t care that she’d reverted to formalities. “But God did. Surely you are not going to discount the fact that God often led people to places that were unknown. To Abraham God merely said, ‘Get thee out of thy country.’ He told him to leave his kindred and his father’s house. Why should it surprise you then that He directed me to do likewise?”

William looked at her for a moment longer before replying, “Because as far as I can tell, Miss Dandridge, you don’t wait to get direction from anyone.”

“This is where you are wrong, Mr. Barnett. I’ve been taking orders from people all of my life—particularly the men in my life. I have come to learn over time that only God directs me in ways that are worthwhile.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve been listening to the wrong people.” He dropped his hold on her. “But be that as it may, you have a responsibility to Andy and Marty. If you die out here, what are they going to do?”

Hannah swallowed down her guilt. She had already asked herself that question a hundred times. “I suppose that God will watch over them as He has me. Truly, Mr. Barnett, do you imagine me so daft that I would not consider these things? I have had the sole care of my siblings since they were very small—in fact since Marty’s birth. She is like my own child—Andy, too. Do you honestly imagine me forgetting their needs?”

“It would appear that you have in this matter.”

“Well, that only serves to prove to me that you do not know what you’re talking about. I made provision for my brother and sister. I arranged for their welfare, so you needn’t worry.”

“I suppose you set something up with Mr. Lockhart,” William said in a snide tone.

Hannah felt a rush of embarrassment. She couldn’t imagine why Mr. Barnett would suggest such a thing, or why it should cause her such feelings of humiliation.

“I see no reason to continue this conversation. I need to check on the people.”

“I just did that before coming to see you,” William answered. “What you need is to face the truth. You are headstrong, Miss Dandridge. Headstrong and dangerous—not only to yourself, but to others.”

With that he left her, stalking off toward the far end of camp. Hannah watched him, unable to turn away. Why was it that his comments should so thoroughly offend and wound her? It wasn’t like she cared what Mr. Barnett thought. He was nothing to her—he’d said as much to the lieutenant.

But it did bother her. It bothered her a great deal.

Not knowing what else to do, Hannah returned to the chief’s tepee. She hoped she might be able to continue her discussion about God with Night Bear, but she found him sleeping. She sighed. Perhaps she had planted the seeds of the gospel deep enough that they would take root and grow. She smiled at the sleeping warrior. Not really a man, but certainly not a boy. She thought of Andy and tried to imagine him trekking out across vast distances to get help. The Comanche raised their children to be self-sufficient, whereas she had raised Andy and Marty to be dependent. Perhaps it was time to reconsider her manner of parenting. No doubt that would please Mr. Barnett. The frontier of Texas was a harsh land in which to raise children, but Hannah was willing to admit she could benefit from the advice of others. Just not from Mr. Barnett. His advice didn’t interest her at all.