Chapter 10

10

"He's just the sweetest kitten, Father. I knew you'd want me to shelter him from the cold," Laura told her father the next morning over breakfast. "I asked Curtis to check around the neighborhood, but no one seems to know anything about him. I've put him in with Will. I think it will do much to improve his spirits."

"Well, I can't say that I approve of having a wild animal in the house." Father frowned as he helped himself to a platter of bacon.

"He's hardly a wild animal. It's just a little kitten. Barely even weaned from his mother." Laura slathered butter on her toast, then reached for some jam. "I think he's darling, and if he doesn't belong to anyone, I'd like to keep him."

Her father said nothing and concentrated instead on adding sugar to his coffee. Laura wasn't sure why he was opposed to the kitten, but she felt confident she could win him over.

"When you're away for long hours, a kitten will help me not to feel so alone."

Her father glanced up. "Well, there are other solutions, you know. I've been thinking long and hard about it, in fact."

"What are you talking about?"

"A husband. It's high time you married. You are, after all, nearly twenty-three. By most standards, folks would say you're pushing toward being an old maid."

"And that bothers you?"

He gave a half smile. "It should bother you, my dear. No woman wants to be forgotten in situations of matrimony."

"Such things aren't all that important to me. I fell in love once, and it was a brutal and sorrowful situation."

"When did you have opportunities to fall in love?"

"You seem surprised." She dabbed the napkin to her lips. "Just because I went to schools for girls doesn't mean I was never exposed to the company of young men."

"I suppose I never thought much about it. Still, being exposed and having time to form a relationship and fall in love are two different things." His brows furrowed together. "I can't say that this news sits well with me."

"Don't let it upset you, Father. The young man was the nephew of a teacher. The one you arranged to take me to Europe. Remember, I was there for nearly two years. That's a long time to be around a dashing and ambitious young man."

"I'm appalled to imagine you having an intimate relationship. I never anticipated you would be put in such a dangerous situation."

She shook her head. "I was carefully supervised for the most part. And Andrew did not take liberties, if that's what worries you. We spent a lot of time together, that much is true, but he was mostly full of words. He professed his love, but he did so to many young women." Laura hated to even bring up the subject again but was determined for her father to understand.

"I learned that the heart can be easily deceived if the parties are either deceptive or na?ve. I was the latter and will not make that mistake again."

Her father lowered his coffee midway to his mouth. "Why didn't I hear about this when it happened?"

Laura picked up her own cup. "Why would I bother you with such a thing? What was to be done about it?"

"If he played you false or took advantage of you, then he deserves to be called to account. Even punished."

She chuckled and sipped from the china cup. She could well imagine the debonair Andrew facing her imposing father. There might have been a bit of satisfaction in it when she was younger and nursing her wounds, but now it just seemed humorous.

Putting her cup aside, she shook her head. "It's of no consequence now. I just want you to understand why I have no interest in pursuing courtship."

"Still, it's important for your future. Perhaps even for mine. Making a good connection would see our families supporting each other in crucial matters."

"Such as you being appointed governor?" She raised her brow and eyed him carefully. "Surely you wouldn't trade my happiness for the governorship?"

Her father said nothing for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "Of course not. However, I know a bit more about life than you do. Women are happier with a mate. Men are too, but they often don't realize it. The team of husband and wife can face the future with a strength that comes from no other place."

"I believe that strength comes from God," Laura said, picking up her fork once again. "A man and woman who serve God first and then each other are, in my opinion, unbeatable. When times of hardship come, they will seek their heavenly Father first."

"While those things sound encouraging and hopeful, I can tell you from experience that it doesn't always work that way. Your mother and I had a great deal of faith in God. We sought Him when your mother fell ill, and He ignored our pleas. God doesn't always answer prayers."

"Oh, but He does, Father. He just doesn't always say yes. As hard as that is to accept, God often says no and directs us to a better way."

"And how could there have been a better way at the price of your mother's life?" Father all but growled the question. It was clear he was thoroughly upset by the conversation, and Laura hated that their discussion had turned so dark.

"Father, I'm sorry. I never meant for us to argue. I trust that you are wiser than I am when it comes to affairs of the heart. If it's your desire for me to meet some young men, then I will." She gave him a reassuring smile and saw the tension ease in his expression.

"I have no desire to fight either. I will keep in mind your thoughts and feelings. Perhaps we could have a gathering—a party. You could mingle among the guests and get to know some of the men who reside in Cheyenne. I would choose only such men as I know to be honorable and of marriageable age. You could see if any of them appealed."

"That would be acceptable to me, Father." Laura would rather walk barefoot on hot coals, but to keep her father from being upset, she was happy to agree.

"It seems you've made several good friends already," Father continued. "I'm glad you have managed to do that."

"Yes, they're all women from the church, and their husbands are quite active in Cheyenne. One used to be a banker, but now he owns and runs a boys' school. Charlie Decker is his name. I believe he's a member of one of your business groups. Then there's Edward Vogel. He's a deputy with the city's police department. He works for the city marshal. Mr. Cooper is retired but keeps himself involved with town politics. You probably know him."

"Cooper? Yes, I believe I do. Owns a boardinghouse, if I'm not mistaken. I know Decker as well. The man is quite intelligent—has a good mind for figuring out details."

"That doesn't surprise me. Their wives are quite knowledgeable too." Laura held each with great affection. "And there's Granny Taylor's husband, Jed. He works for the railroad but used to own his own ranch in Texas. Granny is always giving sound and sage advice. I really like her."

"It's good that they're such decent sorts. There are plenty in this town who aren't. A lot of ruffians remained after the train moved west. I intend to see this town cleaned up. Now that we've passed laws against gambling and prostitution, we should see some real changes. And we will, of course, continue to pursue law and order."

"I'm sure Cheyenne is a much better place for your attention. I know that you have interests in being appointed governor, but I don't really understand why. What has driven you down that road?"

Her father finished eating and pushed back from the table. "The power and ability to carve a way in history so as to actively effect change."

Laura hadn't known what she expected him to say, but it wasn't that. "You desire power to make changes? What kind of changes?"

"There's a whole variety of things I would change. A lot of it, however, has more to do with the people I would eliminate from their positions of power. People who have flawed ideas and plans for this town and territory. I'd get rid of all the Indians, eliminate the reservations and the people on them."

Her mouth dropped as her eyes widened. "Father, you would have them killed?"

He looked at her oddly. "No, of course not. I would have them removed. I am of a mind that we allocate one area in this country or perhaps Canada and send all native people there. There's not that many of them left, and having all these separate reservations in our great country is ridiculous. Let them all be thrown together in one place where they can be controlled. As you know, they can be very violent."

"But they're of different tribes. They speak different languages and have different cultural stories. Throwing them together won't work."

Her father rose from the table and tossed his napkin down. "Nonsense. America is the very symbol of that. We are a conglomerate of nations. Irish, Germans, Swedes, as well as Mexicans and Asians. We have come together and live and work as a collective group. It shouldn't be that difficult for the Indians to do the same. It would take an adjustment, but it would work in time, I assure you. Now, I must get to the store." He came around the table and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"It's so good to have you with me," he said. "Don't worry yourself over political affairs. I've the head for such work, and you must trust that I know what I'm doing. With your suitors as well. I'm quite anxious to put you on the path toward matrimony."

After her father left, Laura wanted to kick herself. Why had she encouraged him to bring suitors? She had no intention of choosing a husband. Her only desire was to know her father better, and it seemed to her that breakfast had given her quite a bit of insight into his heart. The problem was, she wasn't entirely sure she cared for what she saw there. Power and marrying for social connections were hardly things that she valued. It made her uncomfortable to know they were what her father desired. After all, they would do nothing to draw them together as a family. The thin line of connection they had would only be made weaker by adding a third party. Laura sighed and put her napkin on the table. Maybe if she said nothing, Father would forget all about it. She could only hope.

A week later, Will had to admit he wasn't anywhere near as strong as he'd hoped to be. The doctor told him he'd lost a lot of blood, and they'd been forced to remove his spleen to prevent him bleeding to death. Will had asked but been denied the right to get up and walk on crutches. The doctor told him it was still too dangerous, and his broken ribs would never have the strength to hold him. But as much as this had soured Will's attitude and spirit, a visit from Mr. Blevins only served to make it worse.

"I had come to bring you good news. The government is ready to move ahead and assign additional workers for the various reservations. I went to the boardinghouse this morning, hoping to give you the good word," Mr. Blevins began. "However, Mrs. Cooper told me you had been in a terrible accident and were staying here for constant nursing care." The older man lowered his wire-rimmed glasses to the edge of his nose so that he could peer over them at Will.

"Yes, I was injured on the fifteenth of January when a horse trampled me. I suffered broken bones and a ruptured spleen. I also took a hard hit to my head," Will replied. "The doctor tells me I'm lucky to be alive."

"Yes, well, while it's good that you lived through your ordeal, it hardly helps me." Mr. Blevins tsked. "No, sir, it doesn't help at all."

The little man rose from his seat. "You'll no doubt be weeks, maybe months, at recuperating from your injuries. I can hardly set aside a position for that long."

"It seems to me if you've waited this long, a few more weeks isn't going to be the end of the world." Will's frustration brought out a sarcastic tone. How could the man only consider his own circumstances? Will had nearly died.

"Well, there's also the other thing," Mr. Blevins said, eyeing Will with a serious expression. "I understand your mother and sister were on the stage that was attacked by the Sioux."

"Yes, they were killed."

"And you're still of a mind to go and work with those who were responsible?"

"I never intended to work with the Sioux. I've studied and learned about the Shoshone. We talked at length about my heading west to their reservation with the Bannock."

"They're still Indians. Are you sure you can handle working with people who might have been responsible for killing your kin?" Blevins straightened to his full height, which couldn't have been more than five feet. "It's something to think about. Maybe you'd be happier starting a little church right here in Cheyenne and avoiding contact with the Indians."

Will had to admit, only to himself, that the same thoughts had occurred to him. His emotions were still torn when it came to the idea of working with the natives. He had wrestled with his lifelong plans over and over. After all, mental arguments and contemplation were about all he was good for. Well, that and spiritual battles. He had even given thought to giving up on preaching altogether. He felt abandoned by God, and his heart didn't seem to be able to move on past that point.

At his silence, Blevins gave a nod and moved toward the door. "I will check back in with you in a week and see what the doctor says about your recovery. I can wait that long to decide."

Will met his grim expression and nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

But his heart wasn't full of thanks at all. He wanted nothing more than to get up and give the man a shake. In fact, Will would have liked to give most everyone around him a good hard shake. No one seemed to understand how difficult it was to be laid up—to not even be able to attend your own family's funeral. Forced to rely on everyone else for the simplest of needs.

Will heard the wind pick up outside. The staff had been talking about the possibility of a blizzard, and wind usually came before a storm.

"I see your visitor is gone," Mrs. Duffy said, coming into the room unannounced. Rosey followed behind her, along with Curtis. Both carried armloads of wood. "The weather's gone bad on us, and we're stocking up on dry firewood in each of the rooms. I'll be sure to check frequently to see that you're staying warm enough."

"Is Laura home?"

"She hasn't returned just yet. She went out to meet with her sewing circle friends," Mrs. Duffy replied. "I expect her most anytime. The ladies are usually good to keep track of the weather."

Will nodded. "Curtis, would you help me back to bed? I'm feeling a bit done in."

"No problem, sir," the boy replied after depositing the firewood. Mrs. Duffy motioned to Rosey, and the young woman hurried to pull down the covers.

Will found the kitten had burrowed under the covers up by the pillow. He stretched and opened his eyes as Will joined him in the bed, but otherwise had no interest in moving. Will almost laughed as the cat closed his eyes.

"He has no more energy than I do."

"Probably knows it's going to storm," Mrs. Duffy said, coming to tuck Will in. "Animals seem to know. I'm thinking this storm may be a bad one, and all the animals will hole up wherever they can to avoid the cold. This little fella's lucky Miss Laura found him. Otherwise, I hate to think what might have happened to him."

Will thought for the briefest of moments that the same might be said of him. Laura was determined to care for him, but since she had been the one to run him down, Will thought it rather ... well ... expected. He knew, however, that it really wasn't. He was the one who'd paid no attention to where he was walking. Laura had gone above and beyond to ensure he had good care. He really needed to be more grateful.

The staff exited the room, but in a moment, Mrs. Duffy was back, and on her heel was Charlie Decker.

"Mr. Decker has come calling. Are you up to a visitor?"

Will nodded and motioned him in. "A blizzard is about to start as I hear it. You should be home, Charlie."

The man doffed his hat. "I brought Laura home in our carriage since the snow had already started. I thought I might as well stop in and say hello," Charlie said as he stepped up to the bed. "I promise I won't stay long."

"What about school?"

"Oh, I dismissed the students early. The weather was just too threatening. The wind came up, and the sky is heavy with snow. I told the boys to go straight home, and I pray they did as they were told for once." Charlie took a seat in the ladder-back chair by the bed.

Will didn't feel much like visiting. "You need to get back before the storm moves in and you're unable to find your way home."

Charlie smiled and ignored the suggestion. "I told Melody I was going to visit with you for just a moment or two. I wanted to see how you were doing. I heard Blevins was back in town."

"He is, and he's already been here," Will admitted, realizing he had no choice but to talk. "The news is that the government is finally settled and ready to take on preachers for the reservations, but I'm not ready to take on a job."

"You'll heal up soon enough. Can't they wait?"

"I guess not."

Charlie's eyes narrowed just a bit. "Will, do you even want them to wait?"

Will knew his friend meant well, and frankly, he did need to talk it out with someone. He just hadn't expected to have to do it at that very moment.

"Truthfully, Charlie, I don't know if I do. Indians just killed my family. How can I go to them and show the kind of love and encouragement that God expects? I don't even have a good relationship with God right now. I feel so abandoned and angry."

Charlie chuckled. "Sounds like you have a lot to work on. Maybe we could start with a little prayer."

The wind gusted hard against the house, and Will shook his head. "We don't have the kind of time needed to pray through this issue. You need to get home, Charlie. Melody needs you there."

He saw the battle waging in Charlie's eyes, but finally his friend got back to his feet. "I'll go for now, but I promise to return, and I'll be praying about your troubles while we're apart. I think you'd do well to do the same, even if you are put out with the Almighty."

Will nodded. "I'll do what I can, Charlie. But I make no promises. I'm not sure God wants to hear from me anymore."