Under the Distant Sky (27 page)

The view from the top of the mound sickened them. Three wagons, just like those in the wagon train, lay on their sides. The bloody bodies of Walt Cuzak and his boys lay sprawled amongst their mining equipment and supplies. They had been scalped, and food from their own supply had been stuffed in their mouths.

“Big Cloud,” Ezra said. “He was showin’ his contempt for the men who wouldn’t share food with him and his braves.”

Solomon studied the bodies for a moment. “I’d say they’ve been dead about two days, Ezra.”

“That’s what I was thinkin’. It’s a wonder the wild animals haven’t eaten ’em by now.”

Solomon nodded. “I’ll ride back to the train and tell them what’s happened. Tony may not want to see this. I’ll leave it up to him.”

“Okay. I’ll wait here. We need to bury ’em quick and get on to that ranch.” He pointed to the southwest. “There… see it?”

Solomon squinted against the sun’s glare. In a low area about a mile away, he could see a barn, farmhouse, and small outbuildings nestled in a stand of cottonwood trees. “Sure enough. Be back shortly.”

When Solomon reached the lead wagon, he reversed his direction to ride alongside Micah.

“What’s goin’ on up there?” Micah asked. “I saw you two charge up the mound, then disappear on the other side.”

Chris and B. J. listened intently for their father’s reply.

“Pawnees got the Cuzaks,” Solomon said. “Took their scalps. Stole their horses.”

Chris and B. J. eyed each other.

“I don’t wish anybody to suffer like they must have, Papa,” Chris said, “but at least we don’t have to wonder anymore if the Cuzaks are going to ambush you.”

Solomon smiled tightly. “That’s right, son. Micah, when you reach the near side of the mound, haul up. I don’t want the women and children to see the Cuzaks. We’ll do a quick burial and be on our way.”

“That farm’s right down there to the south, isn’t it?” Micah asked.

“Yes. I’ll move on back and tell everybody what’s happened, and explain that we’re going to stop long enough to bury the bodies.”

As Solomon drew up to his own wagon, he smiled at Hannah and the two young women who rode beside her. “It’s okay, now, sweetheart,” he said to Hannah.

“Pardon me?”

“The Cuzaks are dead… Pawnees killed ’em. Micah’s going to stop the train long enough for us to bury the bodies, and then we’ll head for that farm Ezra told us about. You can see it from the mound.”

Tears filmed Hannah’s eyes.

“I’ve got to let the rest of them know… especially Tony,” Solomon said.

When Solomon had moved on, Tracie said, “The Lord knew the Cuzaks were dead, Hannah. Isn’t it wonderful that He could give you peace like He did, even though you thought they were still a threat?”

Hannah adjusted her grip on the reins. “Yes, it is wonderful, Tracie…and it’s wonderful to realize that the Lord
always
knows what’s ahead of us in life and can prepare us for what
comes our way. He’s already in eternity, which means He’s already in the future. So, He’s already in our tomorrows.”

“He certainly was in my tomorrows before I met Curtis,” Deborah said. “He already had us made for each other.”

Hannah reached over and patted Deborah’s hand. “That’s right, honey. And I’m so glad for both of you. For all of His goodness to us, our Lord deserves all of our love, service, and devotion.”

Solomon and the men decided to dig a common grave for the Cuzaks. Tony had insisted on helping, even though he could hardly look at the bodies. When the men were ready to head back to the wagons, he asked for a minute alone.

Tony’s heart was heavy as he looked down at the dirt mound. “Pa…Frank…Gordon…Edmund…now you know how wrong you were about all that ‘Jesus stuff’ and about hell. But it’s too late.” He thumbed the tears from his eyes and said, “Thank You, Lord, for Solomon Cooper. If he hadn’t led me to You, I’d be in that grave, too.”

When they were within five hundred yards of the farmhouse, Ezra halted the train and asked Solomon Cooper and Dave Croft to ride with him the rest of the way.

As they came within two hundred yards of the farm, Solomon noticed that it had a shabby look to it. “Ezra, looks like the place is abandoned. The roof of the house looks caved in on one corner, and the barn roof is in pretty bad shape, too. I’d say it hasn’t been lived in for a while.”

“I think you’re right. All we can do now is hope the well’s still functional.”

“Wait a minute,” Dave said, “there’s wash hanging on the line at the rear of the house.”

“And a cow and two horses in the corral,” put in Solomon.

They could see two small children playing near the back porch, and a woman at the hog pen, trying to adjust a pole in the split rail fence.

When they rode through the gate, the woman spotted them and quickly picked up a double-barreled shotgun and cocked both hammers. “Hold it right there!” she commanded.

The woman was no older than twenty-five, and quite pretty. The afternoon breeze lifted her long black hair. Her dress was well-worn and patched, but clean.

Without moving her eyes from the strangers, she said, “Jason, take Caleb inside the house!”

The boys obeyed immediately, walking past a well pump at the back of the house. The men could see another pump at the small corral, and the stock tank was full of clean water.

“What do you want?” the woman demanded, fear in her eyes.

“Ma’am,” Ezra said, touching the brim of his battered hat, “my name’s Ezra Comstock. I’m wagon master of that wagon train back yonder.” He arced a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the train.

The woman’s eyes flicked eastward and then back to the three men.

“These gentlemen with me, ma’am, are Solomon Cooper and Dave Croft. Their families are in the train. You won’t need that scatter-gun. We mean you no harm. We’ve plumb run out of water. Buffalo have contaminated the Platte all along the trail. We came to ask if you would let us fill up our water barrels. I see you have a couple of wells.”

The young woman lowered the shotgun and eased the triggers. “You can come closer,” she said.

When they halted their horses a few feet from her, she smiled. “My name is Amanda Kline, gentlemen. The water in my wells is plentiful. You’re welcome to fill your barrels. You can water all your animals at the stock tank, if you wish.”

“Ma’am, we really appreciate your kindness,” Ezra said. “I… ah… take it Mr. Kline isn’t here at the moment.”

Amanda’s eyes filled with quick tears. “My… my husband, Barry, died two months ago. Fever. Came on him suddenly.”

She turned her head and pointed with her chin. “That’s his grave there near the bushes at the back of the house.”

“Ma’am,” Solomon said, “our hearts go out to you in your loss.”

“Thank you. Right after Barry died, there were a series of rain and hail storms, along with some high winds. That’s a sod roof on the house. The rain was so heavy it collapsed the roof on one corner. And the hail and wind damaged the barn roof, as you can see. Now I’m having trouble with some of the fences. I was working on the hog pen when you rode in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ezra said. “So you’ve got nobody to help you keep the place up?”

“No. I wrote to my brother in Billings, Montana, about a month ago. I wanted him to know about Barry, but I also told him I needed help. He said he would come as soon as possible, but he didn’t say when that would be.”

While Amanda was talking, Solomon noticed the lush vegetable garden near the barn, and the large field of corn alongside a larger field of alfalfa. Admiration welled up in him for this gallant young woman who had stayed here after her husband’s death and was making a living off the farm.

Dave noticed the two small boys peeking out the back door. “Those are fine boys, you have there, Mrs. Kline.”

Just then, they heard a baby’s cry.

Amanda glanced toward the house. “I need to tend to my youngest, gentlemen. Please come in for a few minutes, then
you can bring the wagon train down here.”

From the side of his mouth, Ezra said, “There’s no need to go in, Sol. Let’s tell her we’ll just go get the wagons.”

“You’ve been out of civilization too long, old fella,” Solomon whispered. “We must show the lady the courtesy of responding to her invitation. Don’t have to stay long. Then we can go get the wagons.”

Ezra raised bushy eyebrows. “Well, pardon me for bein’ a backwoods hick.”

The parlor was in a pitiful condition where the roof had caved in. Amanda had done what she could to cover the opening with several wide strips of canvas. Otherwise, the house was immaculate.

The baby stopped crying at the sight of his mother. As the men looked around, they noticed wall plaques with Scripture verses on them. And a large black Bible lay on the kitchen table.

“Mrs. Kline,” Solomon said, “There’s some pretty good indications that somebody who lives here knows the Lord.”

Amanda smiled warmly. “Yes, Mr. Cooper. I’ve been a born-again child of God since I was ten years old. My husband was saved when he was fourteen. I have peace knowing he’s in heaven with Jesus.”

“Well, all three of us are born-again Christians, ma’am,” Dave said. “And there are several just like us in the wagon train.”

She smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. This is my youngest, Matthew. He’s nineteen months old.”

Solomon’s heart was heavy for the young widow. “Ezra,” he said, “this dear lady needs help. We can’t just take the water we need from her wells and drive away.”

Ezra’s face showed his puzzlement. “What are you thinkin’, Sol?”

“I know you’ve got to get over the Sierras before the snow
flies. So you go ahead and pull out after the barrels are full. I know when Hannah sees the situation here, she’ll agree with me. We’ll stay and fix up her place, then go on to Fort Bridger. A couple of weeks, and we can have this place looking good. Her brother will probably be here by then.”

Ezra rubbed his bristly chin. “Ain’t no need in you stayin’ behind, Sol. If every able-bodied man in the train pitched in, we could fix everything for her in a couple of days. We can spare that much time.”

Tears glistened in Amanda’s dark eyes. “That…that’s very kind of you, gentlemen, but I can’t ask you to—”

“You didn’t, ma’am,” Solomon cut in. “We’re volunteering.”

“Oh, bless you! If the roofs of the house and barn were repaired…and the fence at the hogpen, the boys and I would be fine until my brother comes.”

While some of the men were watering the animals and others were filling water barrels, others went to work on the roofs and fences. Chris and B. J. worked alongside their father.

Ezra and Dave rode out to find fresh meat.

After the women had introduced themselves to Amanda, some of them borrowed her wash tubs and began to wash clothes. Amanda was tending to little Matthew, with Jason and Caleb looking on, when Hannah, Mary Beth, and Patty Ruth stepped onto the back porch.

“Oh, please come in,” Amanda said, hurrying to open the screen door.

“You just had a whole lot of names thrown at you out there,” Hannah said. “I’m Hannah—”

“Cooper! I can’t remember them all, but I remembered your name because of that very nice husband of yours.”

Hannah smiled. “He is that, Mrs. Kline. These are our daughters, Mary Beth and Patty Ruth.”

“Hello, girls,” Amanda said. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

The girls returned the greeting, then Amanda introduced her boys. “These are my sons, Jason, five, Caleb, three, and Matthew, nineteen months.”

Amanda noticed Matthew eyeing the stuffed bear cradled in Patty Ruth’s arm. “I see baby Matthew likes your bear, Patty Ruth. What’s his name?”

“Ulysses Cooper, ma’am.”

Amanda giggled. “I like that name!”

Patty Ruth gave her a thin smile.

“May I call you Amanda?” Hannah asked.

“Of course.”

“Amanda, the girls and I came to invite you and the boys to eat supper at our wagon tonight. Would you do us the honor?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you!”

“My husband told me you’re a Christian,” Hannah said.

“I sure am. Let’s sit down here in the kitchen so we don’t bother the men in the parlor.”

As they talked about the Lord, Hannah and Amanda felt the beginning of a strong kinship. Amanda shared how the Lord had given her strength to go on when Barry died. They had come to Nebraska from Kentucky with a big dream to build a new life. Amanda was carrying on the dream because it was so important to Barry.

Hannah told her about Hank Norwood’s death, and how Lisa was going on to California with her son for the same reason.

Amanda nodded. “I can understand. Barry is in heaven, but somehow it’s like part of him is still here—especially when I look at the children.”

Hannah leaned against the table in a casual manner and put a hand over her midsection. She suspected she was carrying a
child, but hadn’t yet said anything to Solomon. She would give it a little more time. Solomon had always been so delighted when she told him there was a new life coming into their home, and she didn’t want to disappoint him if it really wasn’t so.

Just then Amanda started to cry. When Hannah left her chair and put her arms around her, the long-denied tenderness seemed to break a dam within the young widow. Hannah motioned for Mary Beth to take Matthew. Without hesitating, Mary Beth picked up the toddler and herded the other boys and Patty Ruth into the parlor to watch the men work on the roof.

“Go ahead, honey,” Hannah said, softly. “Cry it out. God gave us tears to alleviate our emotions. Let it all out.”