A Most Unsuitable Match (18 page)

One evening in Dakotah Territory, every man on the boat with a weapon loaded it and lined the deck, watching the distant hills. Someone had reported seeing squads of Indians in the high grass and on the sides of the big hills. The captain ordered the brass howitzer loaded.

Fannie and the other women on board spent a sleepless night together in the saloon, ordered there by the captain in case of an attack. When dawn arrived, nervous laughter followed the announcement that it had likely been a false alarm. Someone joked about imaginary bunnies in the dining saloon . . . and imaginary Indians on the distant hills . . . and the ladies all seemed relieved that at least now they would have something of interest to write in their letters and diaries.

A few days later, the steamer passed a large encampment of Indians. Fannie stood at the railing, wishing that Hannah could see the tepees and the campfires. A group of women stood at the water’s edge. Fannie raised a hand in greeting. One returned the gesture. She grew increasingly nervous about what might happen at Fort Rice. She was going to go with Samuel to ask after Emma. The night before they were to land, she told Hannah about it.

“I’m worried for Samuel,” she said into the emptiness of her cabin. “What if Emma’s there? What if she isn’t?”

Fannie didn’t know which was more cause for concern. She did know that she cared about Samuel.

Although she’d seen plenty of illustrations in various publications, Fannie had never seen a military fort firsthand. Fort Rice was impressive. Its stockade rose ten feet in the air on three sides and stretched for hundreds of feet on a side. The Missouri River was the natural defense for the fourth side, which was open to the water. When the
Far West
landed, Samuel and Fannie were among the first ashore. They walked the entire circumference of the parade ground, past company barracks and officers’ quarters, the post hospital and storehouses, the powder magazine and the library. No one had heard of a Major Chadwick. The post headquarters stood apart from the east line of log buildings, and Samuel received the same news there. There was no Major Chadwick at Fort Rice.

Fannie and Samuel had just headed back toward the
Far West
when a soldier they’d talked to earlier flagged them down. “Any luck?” When they said no, he replied, “If you get a chance to telegraph territorial headquarters, give them the major’s company and they’ll be able to tell you where he’s stationed.”

“It isn’t actually Major Chadwick I’m trying to find,” Samuel finally said. “It’s my sister.” He cleared his throat. “I was told she was with him. Red hair, pale eyes. Pretty, except for a scar on her left cheek. Her name is Emma. Emma Pilsner. Unless they’ve married, that is.”

The soldier nodded. “I have three sisters,” he said. “Don’t see nearly enough of them.” He pointed toward a row of buildings in the distance. “If it was me, I’d ask over on Laundry Row. Most laundresses are married to enlisted men, but not all. Those ladies have a way of knowing just about everything that goes on here. If your sister was ever here, there’s a very good chance one of the laundresses will remember.”

And they did. The first one Samuel asked put her hands on her hips and said, “Is it
Major
Chadwick, now?” She laughed and called to a woman stirring lye soap in a huge cast-iron cauldron over an open fire. “You hear that, Charlotte? Johnny’s gotten himself promoted to major!” She squinted up at Samuel. “I always wondered why Em took up with him. She seemed smarter than that.”

“Can you . . . can you tell me where I might find her?” Samuel swallowed.

The woman seemed to sense the emotion behind the question. Her expression softened. She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure. The last I knew, Johnny had a terrible case of gold fever.” She shouted to the other woman. “Was it Virginia City they were headed to?”

The other woman nodded.

“There you have it, then. Virginia City. I told Em she was a fool to go with him, but she wouldn’t listen.” She peered at Samuel for a moment, and then she reached out and patted his forearm. “Johnny seemed to have true affection for her, hon. He’s good to his women. Even the ones he leaves behind have nice things to say about him.”

After Fort Rice, Samuel realized something new about Mother’s notes in her Bible. She’d underlined a lot of verses about worrying. Of course, they all said not to. Samuel hadn’t realized that Mother worried, but thinking that she did made him feel closer to her. He drank in the Bible’s “do not worries” like a man dying of thirst, trying to keep from worrying about Emma . . . Fannie . . . and what lay ahead for them all in Fort Benton and beyond.

One sleepless night when he was roaming the ship alone, he ended up sitting on the main deck, at the very tip of the prow, staring upriver. Lamar came to sit beside him. “You seem to be having a lot of trouble with sleeping lately.”

“I can’t stop thinking about Fort Benton. Alder Gulch. Virginia City.” He shook his head. “Emma’s tough. But Fannie? Fannie’s got no business in Fort Benton, let alone in a place like Virginia City.”

“She’ll be all right, son. Worryin’ won’t help it, can’t change it, don’t fix it.”

Samuel knew that what Lamar said was right. But it was easier to
read
“don’t worry” than to stop worrying.

Fannie was talking to Lamar one evening in late June when Samuel rushed toward them, his finger in his Bible, his eyes alight with . . . something. As soon as he was within earshot he blurted out, “Did you know Jesus is coming back?!”

Lamar smiled. “I believe I remember a preacher or two who said as much.”

“But that’s . . . incredible!”

“Amen,” Lamar said.

Samuel gestured toward the shore. “It changes everything. Everything over there. Everything about everything.”

Fannie didn’t quite see how a few Bible verses could change everything. Didn’t everyone realize they were going to see God again someday?

“Everyone needs to know,” Samuel said. “This book—” he tapped the Bible with his finger—“
matters.
Eternity depends on what we do with it. People need to know that!” His voice wavered with emotion. “If Emma had known, things might have been different for her.” He looked over at Lamar. “Am I crazy to think that?”

“It’s never crazy to believe what God says, son.” Lamar smiled again. “But the world is a hard place, and like you said the other day, there’s that space that sometimes feels like empty air. It can be mighty hard to hold on when a body feels like they’re in that place.”

Samuel looked down at the Bible. He nodded. “I think I see that. But it doesn’t change the fact that, if this book is true . . . if God reached into the world with his own Son . . . if he’s coming back to see that everything’s made right . . .” His voice broke. He swallowed. “If that’s all true, then he can make everything right inside of us, too. If we let him.” Samuel paused. “People need to know how much God loves them. They need to know that Jesus is alive . . . and he’s coming back.” He pointed to the Bible. “God’s love sings through this whole book. Even those
begat
s that used to frustrate me show that he cares about everything. In every generation.”

“Now you really are sounding like a preacher,” Lamar said, grinning.

Samuel laughed. “I’d be a terrible preacher.”

“Seems to me you’ve got the most important part of it down.” Lamar pointed at the Bible. “You love that book.”

“I do. But there’s still a lot of it I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing more irritating than a man that don’t know he don’t know. So you just keep thinking that way. After all, when it comes to the Almighty, it seems to me there’s always going to be a whole lot a man don’t know.”

Samuel laughed. “Then I’m more qualified than most.” He settled back and began to read to them. “ ‘For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. . . . For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout . . . and the dead in Christ shall rise first. . . . Wherefore comfort one another with these words.’ ”

Fannie had to agree with Samuel. Those were wonderful, amazing, comforting words. The way he read them, his voice rang with hope and joy. Lamar was right. Samuel sounded like a preacher . . . and while she knew she should be thrilled, she wasn’t. Preachers married women who quietly went about their duty without causing disruptions. Preachers’ wives didn’t ask challenging questions about God. They led staid lives in solid communities where people looked up to them. They stayed in the background and did what they were told. Preachers’ wives were admirable.

And Fannie would never be able to be like that.

Dear Minette,

I apologize for the long gap between letters. There hasn’t been much to say that would be of interest. Samuel’s sister was not at Fort Rice, but there was news of her, and now Samuel has even more reason to venture out in search of Aunt Edith, for it seems that the two ladies may be in the same place, or at least in the same part of Montana. It is called Alder Gulch. Virginia City, the territorial capital, is there, as are a number of other gold camps. It seems that anyone in search of gold in Montana ends up there. It is over two hundred miles from Fort Benton, and I will admit that the idea of going there frightens me, but then, I have been frightened for weeks now, and still somehow I manage to continue. I have decided to try my hand at praying and hope that God will undertake to guide the next phase of this journey.

The days seem long. I am eager to be finished with the river. I can quote large passages of Mr. Dickens’s book now, for I believe I have read it over several times. Social life is an important part of steamboat travel, and a group gathers in the dining saloon every evening after the meal. Some ladies sew, others play cards. For a short part of the trip, there was a passenger who played the violin beautifully, but he has since disembarked.

Samuel leads a brief Sabbath service now, and the passengers seem quite taken with his earnest words. Even though he is untrained, his manner is not unlike that of Reverend Garrison of the First Church. What I mean is, he is passionate about the words that he shares from his dear mother’s Bible, always emphasizing that they are not his, but that they come from the very hand of God and should bring us comfort and hope. While he is very poor in worldly possessions, Samuel is rich in kindness, and if wealth were measured in love for God, I believe he would be the richest man in the world.