Wind Song (27 page)

Matthew glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes round with concern. "Finish your work, Matthew," she said. Noting that he had written the letter
b
backwards, she took his fingers and helped him to trace
b
's in the air.

"Try again."

At first Maddie thought the sound she heard in the distance was the windmill. But the sound grew louder and when she finally looked out to determine its source, she was surprised to see a covered wagon on the road.

The wind lifted the wagon's canvas cover until it billowed upward like a large white balloon ready to take flight. Dirt swirled from beneath the wheels as the wagon lumbered along the dry, dusty road.

She reached for her sunbonnet and stepped outside just as the wagon came to a halt by the windmill. Struggling to tie the bonnet to her head, she fought the wind and rushed to greet her visitors. A man struggled from the driver's seat and called out, his voice barely audible about the wind. A young boy hurried to his side to hand him a pair of crutches.

"Would you be kind enough to give us water?" The man, who had managed to step down from the wagon unassisted, tucked the crutches beneath his armpits.

"Of course," Maddie called back. Head lowered against the wind and dust, she went back to the soddy to fetch clean cups. "We have company, Matthew."

She dashed back outside, eager to make her guests as comfortable as possible. The man and his two children were standing by the well. The little girl's dress billowed out, and the wind playfully tugged on her long blond hair.

Maddie passed out the cups and carried a cupful of fresh water to the woman she recognized as the woman she'd met in Hays. Had the wind not been blowing the children's hair in front of their faces, she would probably have recognized them as well.

"It's Lucy, isn't it? Lucy Eldridge?"

Lucy held the flapping brim of her bonnet, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Why, yes." She lifted her voice against the wind. "Fancy meeting you again, Miss Percy."

"Call me Maddie."

"Maddie. May I ask what you're doing here?"

"I live here."

The woman's expression went from friendly to hostile. "Here? With that…that horrible man?"

The woman's face darkened with scorn. "I didn't want to stop here. I told Peter I'd rather die of thirst than stop here. But he insisted."

The woman's hatred and anger made the otherwise dramatic prairie look bland. Even the wind seemed to have lost its stinging presence. Maddie was so started by the unexpected outburst that she could only stare at the woman in bewilderment.

"Peter!" the woman called to her husband.

"Would you like some water?" Maddie asked, holding up the cup.

"No, thank you."

Maddie guessed that the woman was at least seven months along in her pregnancy. It didn't seem wise for Lucy to deny herself water, no matter what the reason.

Peter hobbled up to the wagon on crutches, the children behind him. Jamie held his sister's hand and both kept their heads down to ward off a sudden funnel of dirt that blew by.

Peter said something to Jamie, who then held a canteen up to his mother.

"I'm most obliged for the water." Peter shouted to make himself heard.

Maddie battled with the ribbons of her bonnet. "If you want to come inside, I'll fix you something to eat."

"We don't have time," Lucy snapped.

Peter gave Maddie a look of apology but said nothing as he took his place next to his wife, shoved the crutches behind him, and picked up the reins.

Maddie helped Jamie and Caroline into the wagon. The two children waved to her from the canvas opening, and Maddie lifted her hand in return.

It was a puzzling and disturbing encounter and one she thought about for the rest of the day.

The wind died down later that afternoon, except for occasional gusts. The air remained thick with dust, preventing her and Matthew from taking their daily walk.

She waited until they were seated around the table for supper before mentioning the Eldridges' visit.

Luke's face grew as dark as a thundercloud. The knuckles of his hand turned white around his fork. "What did they want?"

"Nothing," she said, her voice suddenly deserting her. "Only water. I offered them food but--"

He rose abruptly, his plate barely touched. "I have work to do in the barn." He quickly left the soddy. The door slammed shut with a loud, dull thud that tore another layer of dirt off the ceiling onto the petticoats.

Matthew stared at the door, a worried look on his face. Maddie leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. "Eat your supper, Matthew."

So they were back. Luke pressed his hands against the sod wall of the barn and tried to steady himself. Lucy and Peter Eldridge were back.

He had never thought they'd return to Colton. Not after losing everything they owned in the fire.

Luke had known Peter since they were both ten. They'd grown up together in a little town outside of Buffalo. They were practically brothers, although out of necessity the boys kept the friendship a secret. Peter was the only friend that Luke ever had. Peter's parents would have been shocked had they known that their oldest son was friends with the Tyler boy.

When the war broke out between the states, Peter didn't hesitated to enlist, and he failed to understand Luke's refusal to do likewise.

"It's our duty," Peter had argued on that long ago day.

"You know why I can't fight," Luke had said.

"Because of your papa? You don't have to worry about that anymore. The damned war is going to make murderers of us all."

"Not me," Luke insisted. "No one is going to make me a murderer."

Luke had been certain that he would never see Peter again, and indeed he did not hear a word from him all during those war years.

Peter returned after the war, minus a limb. Whether it was the missing leg that made him restless and unable to settle down or something else, Luke couldn't say. But he did know that the man who returned was not the same one who had left. It was as if some essential element of his character had been lost on some distant battlefield.

Maybe that's why Luke had found it so surprising when Peter approached him with the idea of pulling up roots and heading out west to stake a claim in Kansas. "Give us both a chance to start fresh, where no one knows us." It was a strange statement coming from Peter. What did he care who knew him? He had nothing to hide.

At first Luke resisted the idea; he wasn't a farmer, he was a woodworker. The fact that he had been successful in his business until the war was a tribute to his skills as a carpenter. Even the most righteous pillars of society were willing to overlook Luke's notorious family background long enough to obtain one of his superbly crafted tables or chairs--so long as he made no attempt to sign his work as was the habit of many artisans, or to leave an identifying mark of any kind.

Who knew how successful he could be if he moved to a place where no one knew him, a place like Kansas? The more he thought about it, the more he was tempted.

Matthew was only two at the time, but already there had been several unpleasant episodes that convinced Luke his son would have as little chance of living down the past as he had.

Kansas offered Matthew a chance to grow up away from the gossip and recriminations that had plagued Luke as a child and that continued to haunt him until the day he packed up his family and left.

The two families, including Lucy's brother, a medical doctor named George Stanford, traveled to Kansas. It was a relief not to have to hide his friendship with Peter. Equally gratifying was meeting people who had no notion of who he was. For the first time in his life, he was not condemned by the past. He was accepted as just another homesteader trying to make a better life for his family.

Despite the hardships that awaited them on the plains, Luke felt confident it would work. If Catherine-Anne hadn't died… If he hadn't killed the man responsible…

He looked up at the sound of the barn door opening.

Maddie stood watching him, a look of confusion and uncertainty on her face. "Did I say something wrong earlier?"

He dropped his hands from the wall and shoved them into his pockets. "No."

"About the Eldridges--"

"I don't want to talk about the Eldridges."

"Very well." She turned to leave.

"Wait."

She hesitated at the door, turning her head to glance at him over her shoulder.

Suddenly he didn't want to be alone. He wanted her company. Wanted to be near her. Damn it! Why didn't she do something annoying, like shout out orders or touch her toes? Why did she have to look so damned desirable? He averted his head and closed his eyes. "Good night," he said roughly.

He listened for the door to close, then picked up a scrap of fine-grained wood and held it to the light.

The irony of having to spend his life on a vast treeless wasteland did not escape him. For a man who loved working with wood, it was a cruel fate.

Even more cruel was having to push Maddie away.

The following day, Luke was repairing a broken plow when Peter Eldridge rode up in a wagon. Maddie and Matthew had driven into Colton earlier to check on the progress of the school and museum.

Luke wiped his greasy hands on a rag and walked over to the wagon so that Peter wouldn't have to struggle with his crutches. "Peter."

Peter nodded. "I came to ask your help. The army tent is too hot for Lucy. We need to build a sod house. I figure the two of us can build one in a day."

"Does Lucy know that you're here?"

"Leave Lucy to me. What do you say?"

Peter didn't have to ask twice. "I'll be there first thing in the morning."

Maddie drove her wagon toward Colton with Matthew by her side. The hazy covering of dust from the recent windstorm tinted the sky more gray than blue. Touched by the pale sun, the prairie grass rippled in the soft breeze like the gentle rolls of a silvery sea.

A jackrabbit sat on the dirt road ahead, then scampered into the grass as the wagon rolled by.

The town of Colton was beginning to take shape, and the wooden spire of the church came into view as they followed the road over a slight rise.

Mr. Boxer emerged from the wooden frame of the schoolhouse to greet Maddie. Behind him, several men dressed in canvas overalls hammered and sawed. "What do you think?" He lifted his voice above the racket.

"It's wonderful!" Maddie. She swung down from the seat of her wagon and picked her way around the stacks of lumber. She stopped to caution Matthew not to step on the nails that were scattered on the ground. "I didn't know the school would be a wood building."

"Had the wood bought in by rail," Mr. Boxer said proudly. He led her up the wooden steps. "As you can see, nothing but the best for the good citizens of Colton." He pointed to the floor. "Most of the schoolhouses in Kansas have a dirt floor, but I insisted that we provide our citizens of tomorrow with a sound foundation." He laughed at his own joke.

Maddie had taken hardwood floors for granted prior to coming to Kansas. Never again, and today she gazed around her feet with full appreciation. "It's going to be beautiful. Isn't it, Matthew?"

Matthew ran his hand along the wooden frame of the door, his cheeks flushed with excitement. The look on his face, the way he held himself, reminded her so much of his father that for a moment she could hardly breathe.

It wasn't until Mr. Boxer motioned to her from the doorway leading to the other room that she was able to recover enough to breathe normally again. "This is the museum you requested."

The rough-framed room was smaller than the classroom, but Maddie thought it was the most wonderful room she'd ever seen. Her mind fairly danced with ideas. "Come and look, Matthew." Two small windows allowed the afternoon sun to spill its warmth across the floor.

"We'll display the animals along this wall. And maybe your father will make us some shelves for over there, and…"

The ideas fairly bubbled out and by the time she ran out of breath, Mr. Boxer and the workman were staring at her with glazed eyes. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she gave them a sheepish look and grabbed Matthew by the hands. "Come along, Matthew. These men have work to do."