Through Rushing Water (47 page)

Sophia stood on tiptoe to see past the adults. “Where—”

“Miss Makinoff! Mr. Dunn!”

Marguerite. Joseph. Frank. Susette.

Sophia hugged her students, feeling bones beneath their clothes. Unlike Harrison and Tilly's three, none of these children had grown an inch. All had lost weight. And where—

A tiny body wiggled between Joseph and Frank. A tiny body with big brown eyes and an even bigger smile. Rosalie! And little Micahel!

They were alive! All of them were alive!

“It's Mrs. Dunn now,” Will told them as the children pulled them toward their campfire.

“Without horses or family you figured how to marry.” Brown Eagle grinned. Gray streaked his hair and deep wrinkles lined his face. He looked ten years older. Mary had lost several teeth.

Then the sad story poured out: the deaths of White Buffalo Girl, Prairie Flower, and seven others on the march south. Starvation, unending misery, and more death in Indian Territory. Then Bear Shield died. In an attempt to save those remaining, Standing Bear had led twenty-five of his people toward home. Soldiers caught them at the Omaha tribe's reservation and brought them as prisoners to Fort Omaha.

“How can I help?” Sophia wiped her tears and surveyed the camp. “I should have brought food.”

“The army is feeding us.” Brown Eagle's Mary nodded at the pot simmering over the fire.

“I could collect clothes.”

“The Omaha people—” A cough interrupted Susette's words. “—gave us clothes.”

“Perhaps I could bring a doctor.”

“The post physician is tending our sick.”

Will covered Sophia's hand. “We'll keep praying.” Then, sensing her exhaustion, he stood. “We'd better get going before it's dark.”

With more hugs and promises to return again tomorrow, they walked out of the camp.

Sophia leaned into him as they walked. “I have cried myself dry.”

Will wrapped his arm around her. “I'll drive slowly. You can nap on the ride home.”

“Quel mélange!”
She let out a bone-deep breath. “I am grateful for those who survived, grieving for those who did not, and angry with the Indian Office. To God, I can only ask why.”

“Only?” The corner of his mouth twitched. He knew her better than that.

“No. I want to know what He wants me to do. Should I write more letters? Send a telegram to the president? Should I—”

“Just you?”

She flashed him a smile. “We. What should we do?”

They approached the buggy. In the shadows of the general's house, a man in civilian clothes pushed himself to standing. Sophia reached for her pistol.

“I surrender.” He raised his arms and stepped into the sunset's last beam.

“General Crook. Thank the Lord it is you.” Sophia's heart returned to a normal pace, and she stepped forward to shake his hand. “We departed in such a hurry, I left my pistol behind.”

“Being shot wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened today.” He nodded toward the encampment. “Washington says I've got to haul them back to Indian Territory. What am I going to do?”

“Would you like a ride home, sir?” Will asked. The general was living near the church until his house was finished. They squeezed into the buggy and headed out. A mile down the road, Will almost dropped the reins. “Hey, I know who—”

At the same time, Sophia said, “I have an idea.”

“Tom Tibbles,” Will said as Sophia nodded.

“From the newspaper?” General Crook studied the night sky, then straightened. “Drop me off at the
Herald
's office. And keep praying. Both of you.”

May 12, 1879

The lawyers had argued for days, using every six-dollar word in the dictionary. Then the judge let Standing Bear speak. In minutes the chief blew off the sawdust of confusion and made history.

“This hand is not the same color as yours, but if I pierce it, I shall feel pain. The blood that will flow from mine will be the same color as yours. I am a man. The same God made us both.”

The chief used the analogy of trying to save his family from rushing floodwaters, a very real fear for those living along the Missouri. A man blocked him. If the man allowed, Standing Bear could continue on toward freedom. If the man refused, he and his family would sink under the flood. “You are that man,” he told the judge.

Not an eye in the courtroom was dry when he finished. The judge had returned with the verdict: Indians are people in the eyes of the law.

Goldie's bark announced another arrival. A carriage pulled into the porte cochère. Will started to excuse himself to General Crook, then caught a glimpse of Sophia nearby in the dining room. She smiled at him and glided across the hall to greet the newcomer with a swish of petticoats and brisk steps. In the gaslights her fancy dress looked like bronze.

The fabric was called “brilliantine,” she had told him. He figured it must have been named for her. She had her hair done up in curls, like a crown. Every time he looked at her, Will marveled. How did it happen that a carpenter from Iowa had married a member of Russian royalty?

He smiled, imagining Sophia correcting him: nobility, not royalty. No matter. She'd always be the queen of his heart. He thanked God every day, every moment, for the incredible blessing of this woman.

“Congressman Montgomery. How providential that your schedule permitted you to attend the trial.”

Will stiffened, then stepped back into the study, close enough to answer any questions the general might have, yet within sight of this Montgomery character. He had to see what sort of fool had passed over Sophia. And make sure the man didn't make an attempt to correct his mistake.

The congressman gave a smile oily enough to rust-proof every tool Will owned. “Sophia, you're looking more beautiful than ever.”

Sophia narrowed her eyes. His false charm didn't impress. “It is rather warm this evening. Perhaps you might dispense with formalities as we do in the West.”

Montgomery hung his coat and top hat on the hall tree, then tore his gaze away from Sophia to spare the house a glance, probably calculating its worth.

As he gawked, Sophia caught Will's eye and gave him her special smile.
Do not worry
, her expression said.
All my love is yours
. She led the congressman into the dining room, where a cold supper had been set out.

General Crook unrolled the building diagram. “What are you planning for heat?”

“Same as your house.” Will pointed out the symbols. “Coal furnace with supplemental stoves.”

“Lovely place you have here.” The congressman's voice carried over the other guests', a useful tool for giving speeches and shouting down the opposition. “So how did you get involved in this Indian trial?”

“I taught at the Ponca Agency until the tribe was evicted.”

“They moved to Indian Territory in '77, correct?”

“‘Moved' is too gentle a word for what happened.” Clever Sophia had Montgomery stuffing his cheeks so she could fill his ears without interruption. She told him about the nightmare the Poncas had endured the past two years.

“Your wife's good at speechifying,” General Crook murmured.

“You should hear her when she really gets her dander up.”

Montgomery scavenged the table. “I thought the purpose of the Indian Territory was to preserve them from extinction.”

“Since arriving in Indian Territory, one-third of the Poncas have died and the rest are ill.”

Nicholas dashed out of the kitchen, chased by Goldie and Buffalo Woman. The smell of food sidetracked the dog into the dining room, where Sophia dealt her a brisk “Sit.” Will scooped up his son, who hugged his neck, then settled onto his shoulder. “It is all right. I will hold him,” Will told Buffalo Woman in Ponca.

The general glanced up and smiled, then tapped the top corner of the diagram. “Indoor plumbing. You're spoiling my staff.”

“Yes, sir.” Will nodded. The general worked his officers hard but treated them well.

Sophia continued, “When the Poncas were evicted from their homeland, the Indian Office confiscated their belongings—farming tools, furniture, livestock, and stoves—and promised to send it all to them. No one has seen it since.”

“What happened?” Montgomery mumbled around the food in his mouth. “Did the other tribes steal it?”

“The warehouse was empty by the time the Sioux arrived. Perhaps the inspector sold it, or the locals stole it. Either way, the Indian Office must compensate the tribe for this loss.”

Will's gaze drifted out the back window where the children were playing ball. Little Susette hit one of Lafayette's pitches into the empty lot behind them. With Armin's help, Joseph and Frank rooted through the tangled prairie grass, looking for the ball. Standing Bear's grandson, Walk in the Wind, ran home, followed by Leo. From the swing under the brush arbor, which Sophia persisted in calling a pergola, Standing Bear's wife and Tilly cheered.

Montgomery muttered about the budget and then, politician that he was, changed the subject to a side issue. “So, this whole mess, the trial, came about because Standing Bear tried to return his son's body to the family cemetery. Was this Bear Shield a student of yours?”

Will held Nicholas close. Now that he was a father, he couldn't imagine how Standing Bear had survived the loss.

“Bear Shield had already learned English,” Sophia said. “So no, he was not my student. I did share my library with him, though. An excellent mind. A devastating loss for Standing Bear and the future of the tribe.”

Rosalie and Josie tiptoed down the stairs, pretending no one could see them, then scampered into the kitchen with a burst of giggles. Will hoped their next would be a girl.

Montgomery pushed away from the chow, and Sophia herded him into the parlor. “Let me introduce you to those involved.”

In the presence of so many greats, one man dominated the parlor. Standing Bear sat in a tall chair opposite the door, his legs propped on a footstool. He wore citizens' clothes with a bear claw necklace.

“There's an Indian in your parlor!” the congressman gasped.

“We are honored to host several distinguished guests this evening,” Sophia said. She tilted her head at an angle Will recognized. Montgomery scraped the edge off her patience.

When the chief saw them approach, he started to stand.

“Please rest yourself,” Sophia said in Ponca and touched his moccasins. “You have walked far.”

The congressman perched on the chair next to Standing Bear and reached down from his self-important pedestal to return the chief's handshake. Standing Bear repeated some of his testimony from the trial, and with great dignity entered a plea for the return of his land.

Susette LaFlesche, called Bright Eyes, a highly educated member of the Omaha tribe, interpreted for them. The young woman had seemed shy when Will first met her, her big round eyes taking it all in, her voice barely above a whisper. But being around Sophia brought out the crusader in her.