A Dream Unfolding (20 page)

Will rolled over on his side, praying the rest of the journey west would be uneventful and swift.

Chapter
10

“Morning,” Drew greeted Hannah, his voice infused with excitement.

She managed to force a somewhat pleasant response from her lips, though she did not feel it.
 
For weeks, they maintained a cool cordial distance—speaking only enough to coordinate daily life.
 
As she turned her back to him, she let the tears fall as painful memories of her father’s distant coolness pervaded her thoughts.
 
How had her marriage turned into a mirror image of that strained and hurtful relationship?

“After breakfast,” Drew said, coming up behind her, “we’ll head over to the Indian camp across the river.”

Nodding in response, she continued with her breakfast preparations, not pleased with the idea of entering the camp of some five hundred Indians with nothing more than her husband and an interpreter.

Yesterday morning, Hannah had been sewing with the other women from the wagon train when the large group of Indians arrived.
 
Their needles ceased their dizzy fluttering, as did their tongues, when the chief and his small party entered the fort.
 
The impromptu sewing circle watched in silence from their vantage point near the barracks, ignoring the young soldiers dropping off more clothing that needed repair.
 
Instead, they strained to hear what the strange natives said to the officer of Indian Affairs.

Before the officer escorted the Indians into his office, Hannah heard enough of the conversation to understand that the tribe was suffering from malnutrition and disease.
 
They traveled many miles to Fort Larned, seeking aid.

Then, after supper last evening, the fort’s commander stopped by to speak with Drew.
 
Though they spoke in soft tones, she could tell from Drew’s compassionate look that the commander knew he was a doctor and was making a request that he assist the tribe.
 
After the commander left, Drew asked if she would join him in the morning.

Now that the breakfast meal was complete, Hannah had no more excuses to delay.
 
She hurried, securing her long hair into a chignon as her husband waited patiently with his medical bag.
 
The pins slipped in her shaky fingers, making the task take longer than normal.
 
She had never seen such a large number of Indians in one area before.
 
Now she and Drew were about to willingly walk into their midst.

Crossing the primitive wooden bridge, she begged her wobbly legs to be still.
 
The closer they got to the camp, the more rapidly her heart pounded within her chest.
 
Walking close to Drew, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

A small old woman with leathered skin approached Hannah, speaking with unfamiliar sounds and words that meant nothing to her.
 
The old woman reached for Hannah’s arm, but she shied away.
 
Seeing her reaction, the old woman turned away.

Pressing closer to Drew, she tried not to stare at the bizarre people and structures. If not for their obvious malnutrition and illness, Hannah might have been frightened by the some of the stern looking braves.
 
She heard stories of whites being murdered and horrible atrocities committed by such natives.
 
Were these men safe?

Not only was their appearance foreign, with their dark eyes and jet black hair, but their dwellings were also unusual.
 
Several long poles leaned together at the top while forming a wide base at the bottom.
 
A large animal skin lay over the wooden frame with a flap on the side tied back, acting as a door.

As Drew led the way inside one such dwelling, Hannah held back a gasp.
 
The first patient was a young man, lying on a primitive bed, covered in layers of buffalo pelts.
 
His dark skin looked pale even in the shade of the tent.
 
Sweat beaded on his forehead as his body shook.
 
Drew handed his bag to Hannah.

Speaking to the interpreter, Drew asked, “May I remove the covers?”

The interpreter spoke with the young man, who nodded in reply.

As soon as Drew lifted the covers, the smell of rotting flesh hit Hannah full force.
 
She coughed trying to quell the rising nausea.
 
Placing her handkerchief to her nose, she took shallow breaths.
 
Drew coughed as well, hinting at his own struggle for control.
 
Hannah dared to look at the wound again.
 
The young man’s abdomen was covered with thick puss and flies.
 
The wound must be weeks old.
 
How had he survived this long?
 
Gagging at the sight, Hannah excused herself.

She barely made it outside the tent before losing the contents of her stomach.
 
Having seen many foul things in her time assisting Drew, she thought she would have a stronger constitution.
 
But the stench overwhelmed her.
 
Drew joined her, bag in hand, in a matter of minutes.
 
At her questioning gaze, he shook his head slightly, confirming her assessment that the young man would not live many more days.

Drew offered Hannah his arm and she welcomed his steady strength as the interpreter led them to the next tent.
 
A young woman lay, screaming in the throes of labor.
 
When he asked how long she labored, the young woman’s mother replied that she had been this way for more than a day.
 
Drew sought permission to examine the young woman, speaking in soft tones.

“The baby is breech,” Drew explained.
 
“I will have to turn it.”

The interpreter spoke rapidly in guttural sounds to the older woman.
 
She responded with a frown followed by angry words.
 
Hannah did not need to understand their language to know the older woman was not pleased with Drew’s suggestion.
 
She started wagging her finger at Drew.
 
Then, she pointed at Hannah and nodded her head.

“She says woman do this.
 
Not man,” the interpreter replied.

Hannah’s eyes went wide and she looked at Drew.
 
She started to protest the idea forming in her husband’s mind, but the concern in his expression stopped the words slipping from her lips.

“Hannah, you have to do this, since they won’t let me.
 
I will talk you through it,” Drew encouraged her.

“I can’t turn the baby!”
 
Hannah shrieked in panic.
 
Surely her husband must have lost his mind.

“If you don’t do this, this woman and her child will both likely die.”

As her breath went shallow, her head began to swim.
 
Please don’t make me do this.

Drew grabbed her forearms and shook her.
 
“Calm down, Hannah.”

She had to get her panic under control before she swooned.
 
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders.

“You can do this,” Drew said, locking gazes with her.
 
“I will be right here.”

Begging God for strength and courage, Hannah replied with resignation, “What do I do?”

As she knelt before the woman, Drew was so close behind her; she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
 
Whispering in her ear, he coached her through the process.
 
Hannah barely registered what she was doing, so terrified of being responsible for someone’s death.

Drew continued speaking softly to her.
 
“That’s right, Hannah.
 
You are doing good.
 
Almost there.
 
Good.”

Turning his gaze towards the young woman, he said, “Now push!”

A few hearty pushes later, and the baby arrived.
 
Hannah knew what to do from here, having assisted with many births before.
 
Once the baby boy was cleaned, she settled him into his mother’s arms.
 
The young woman smiled and thanked Hannah.

As Drew helped Hannah from the tent, she caught the sparkle in his eye.

“I am so proud of you, Hannah,” he said softly, then squeezed her hand.
 
The small gesture of approval tasted like sweet honey to her wounded spirit.
 
He still cared, despite the chasm between them.

Walking toward the next patient, Hannah hoped she would not be called on again.
 
Her hands were still shaking and her stomach refused to settle completely each time the reality of what she’d just done entered her mind.

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon she only assisted Drew, like she had in the clinic back home.
 
He examined so many patients that she lost count.
 
Several suffered from dysentery and malnutrition.
 
He gave instructions to the men on how to help prevent dysentery.
 
Some of the other patients Drew saw had weeks old injuries, similar to the first young man, though not as severe.
 
He treated some, while others he left medicine to dull the pain and ease their suffering.

As she walked next to her husband on the way back to their wagon, Hannah glanced over at him.
 
The spark of joy returned to his eyes, warming her heart.
 
It was good to see him practicing medicine again.

After spending a few days with Drew caring for the Indians, Hannah returned to the daily gathering of the women, relieved to be away from the disease and sickness.
 
To assuage the boredom, the women under Betty’s leadership took in mending for the single men in the wagon train, including the military escort and the military from the fort.
 
One of the women led a Bible study, reading and teaching from various passages while the other women kept busy with their mending.
 
A few of the men from the train occasionally sat nearby to listen while fixing harnesses.
 
Even some of the military hung around the group pretending not to listen.

Nearing the end of their third week at Fort Larned, Hannah felt restless, no matter how she occupied her time.
 
The first few days at the fort were a blessing, giving her time to wash their laundry and see to some mending.
 
But they still had so much ground to cover, and she long ago ran out of tasks needing her attention.
 
She just wanted to be on their way.
 
The November date Drew originally projected for the arrival at their new home would be impossible now.

A noise drew her attention toward the east.
 
One of the army scouts rode back to the fort at a frantic pace.
 
That only meant one of two things—trouble or more settlers.
 
Hannah hoped for the latter.
 

“It’s the governor of the Arizona Territory.
 
His expedition should arrive later today,” the scout reported to his commanding officer.

A shout of joy erupted from the bystanders.
 
The military personnel leapt into motion.
 
The settlers all began talking at once.
 
Some speculated their departure in a matter of days.
 
Others wondered what the governor’s group would be like.
 
A contagious excitement permeated the fort, causing Hannah to forget the monotony of the past weeks.

A few hours later, the governor’s party, of twenty wagons, arrived with great fanfare.
 
The commander of the fort lined up his men in formation.
 
They offered a salute to the governor and his men.
 
The governor spoke briefly, thanking the commander for his hospitality and the crowd for their enthusiasm.

After an afternoon of celebrating the new arrivals, Hannah’s curiosity peaked when they camped near the Anderson and Lancaster wagons.
 
Following the evening meal, several members of the governor’s party joined the campfire Drew built.
 
Betty and Paul scooted closer to Hannah, making room for their new guests.