A Dream Unfolding (23 page)

“I don’t deserve to live.
 
I have led men into battle in this terrible war to kill their fellow Americans.
 
It doesn’t matter if the government says the southern states are the enemy.
 
We are all brothers.
 
I have instructed men on the most effective way to surround and kill as many of the so called enemy as possible.”
 
He paused as if wrestling with a great weight.
 
“I have even fired into a group of men, of which my own cousin was standing, to have it end in what my commander called a victory.
 
That is not what I call it.
 
Why would God want to save a man like that?”

Drew’s heart went out to the man.
 
This War Between the States pitted brother against brother, or in his case cousin against cousin.
 
What do you say to someone who has experienced such tragedy?
 
Lord, please give me the words.

“Because he loves you.”
 
Drew was surprised by his own response, but went with the Lord’s leading.
 
“It is not because we deserve it.
 
None of us do.
 
It is simply because he loves you.
 
If you ask him for forgiveness, the Bible says that he will give it to you.
 
He will not hold it against you.
 
He will freely make things right with you.
 
All you have to do is ask.”

The lieutenant’s frown remained in place.
 
Drew wanted to say more, but remained silent.
 
He knew each person had to come to God in their own time and in their own way.

Finally, after several minutes, the frown lessened.
 
Instead of acknowledging what Drew said about God, the Harrison simply asked for some water.
 
A few sips satisfied him.
 
The sway of the wagon had a lulling effect.
 
His patient’s eyes grew droopy and he soon fell asleep again.
 
Drew decided he would make a point of praying for the young man’s troubled heart in addition to his healing.

Four days later, in the evening, the wagon train pulled into Gray’s Ranch at
Picketware
, Colorado.
 
The Grays were known for their hospitality and the ranch had become a sort of way station along the Santa Fe Trail, according to the lieutenant.
 
They entertained travelers so often they built out a dining area and had a full time cook for the sole purpose of feeding guests.

Drew’s legs felt heavy with exhaustion as he walked toward the dining hall.
 
If it hadn’t been for the governor specifically requesting he and Hannah join him for dinner, Drew would have opted to skip the meal altogether.
 
The lack of sleep was past taking its toll.
 
He knew he needed to rest soon, or his body would force the issue.
 
Seeing Hannah waiting for him brought a smile to his lips, although it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes.

“Hannah.”

She reached up and pecked him on the cheek.
 
“Drew, you look positively exhausted.
 
Are you sure you want to dine with the governor?”

Drew shrugged and offered her his arm.

“At least say you will come back to our camp tonight?
 
If the lieutenant is not well enough to be left alone then let’s see if someone else can care for him,” concern etched Hannah’s face.

Perhaps he should do as she suggested.
 
“Who do you propose we get to watch him?”

“Betty said she would for the next few days.
 
Drew, you really need to rest.
 
I know how you get when you have patients that need care, but in this case I think you are pushing yourself too far.
 
It shows.”

Leave it to his wife to set him straight.
 
“Alright.”

“Good, I’ll talk to Betty.”

Once inside the large room, Drew held the chair out for Hannah.
 
Taking the seat next to her, his stomach growled.
 
When was the last time he ate?
 
Probably supper last night.
 
He couldn’t remember.
 
The conversation went on around him, but Drew found his attention fading.
 
He felt Hannah nudge his arm and realized someone must have asked him a question.

“Pardon?” he asked, waiting to see who responded.

“How is your patient?” Mr. Richmond asked.

“Doing better.
 
He still has a ways to go, but he should recover fully.”

“There is news from the Arizona Territory,” Secretary McCormick stated.

“Yes, while at Fort Lyon we came across a copy of the Santa Fe newspaper from a few weeks ago,” Mr. Richmond added.
 
“John Clark is on his way to survey Captain Walker’s gold fields in the Granite Creek area.”

“The newspaper,” said Secretary McCormick, a former newspaper man himself, “described the area where the Walker Party settled as having a particularly pleasant climate, unequalled in California.
 
They said the temperatures are mild, exempt from either extreme heat or cold.”

Mr. Richmond continued excitedly, “And they said the mountains are covered with a forest of rare timber such as cedar, pine, black oak, walnut, and more.
 
There’s plenty of wild antelope, deer, turkey, and mountain sheep.”

“A member of Walker’s Party reportedly discovered gold in the area several years ago, but never set up a mine until meeting Captain Walker,” Secretary McCormick said.
 
“Then last year he led a group of thirty or so men on an expedition from California, through Arizona and on into New Mexico before deciding to return to Arizona.
 
It was in early May of this year they set up their claims in the Granite Creek area along the
Hassayampa
River.
 
Quite a fascinating story.”

Drew agreed that it was fascinating, but he was having a hard time paying attention.
 
Sleep was nudging harder, vying for attention.
 
He simply nodded, as the hostess removed their dinner plates.
 
She replaced his with a piece of cake with a candle.

“What’s this?” he asked, slightly perking up.

“Happy Birthday, Drew,” Hannah said, smiling sweetly at him.

What day was it?
 
The third of November.
 
Yes, he was so tired he hadn’t remembered his own birthday.
 
But, from the look on Hannah’s face, she had.
 
“Thank you, Hannah.”

The odd assortment of government officials wished him well, as he blew out the candle.
 
The cake was fluffy and moist.
 
How had Hannah managed to arrange this special treat?
 
She was full of surprises.
 
The hostess brought pieces for everyone, so Drew didn’t feel guilty devouring his piece.
 
When the dessert was finished, the governor’s group made no move to leave.
 
Drew, on the other hand, was fighting to stay awake.
 
He and Hannah bid the men farewell before heading back to camp.

Arriving at their campsite, Drew saw that Hannah already had the tent up and the bedding laid out.
 
The weariness washed over him.
 
He headed straight for bed, but was surprised when Hannah followed.
 
It was still early.
 
As they lay down, Hannah snuggled up close.
 
Drew felt comforted by her presence.
 
Placing his arms around his wife, he fell fast asleep.

Since leaving Gray’s Ranch, Hannah struggled with many of the scenes they encountered.
 
At one point on the trail, the wagon train came across a man who had been mauled by a cinnamon colored bear, nearly losing his life.
 
Drew did what he could to patch up the man, but the wagon train left before Hannah learned anything further.
 
Drew told her later that he was glad he left her at camp, as the sight was quite gruesome.

Then, this afternoon the wagon train passed through the small town of Trinidad.
 
Men with hollow, sunken eyes reached out toward the settlers, begging for food.
 
Hannah shivered at the memory of one man trying to jump onto the wagon in front of her, only to be pushed back onto the dusty ground.
 
Thankfully, Drew drove this leg of the journey.
 
She feared what would have happened had she been alone.
 
When the wagon train camped for the night, the assistant wagon master made the rounds, checking for any stowaways.
 
She overheard him telling Drew that nearly two thirds of the men in that town starved to death.

Why would anyone stay in such harsh place—constantly under fear of starvation, animal attack, or Indian attack?
 
Could not these men travel to a safer place?
 
How much worse would their new home be?

As Hannah stirred a pot of beans over the warm fire, she glanced up at the mountains towering on both sides of the flat land where they made camp.
 
A few small abandoned cabins stood near one of the slopes, rumored to have been built by a wagon train stranded in the pass last winter.
 
She hoped their wagon train would not suffer the same fate.

Following supper, Mr. Richmond joined their campfire, excited by the discovery of the cabins.
 
Speaking to Paul and Drew, Mr. Richmond said, “We found nothing much noteworthy in the first few cabins we entered.
 
Nothing more than a few utensils or the remains of a cooking fire.”

Hannah and Betty both paused in their conversation, sensing Mr. Richmond was about to regale them with some interesting tale.

“Then, in the last cabin,” Mr. Richmond continued, “we came across obvious signs of the former inhabitant—mainly in the form of the native woman’s severed head.”

Hannah’s stomach lurched at the visualization.
 
Certainly, Mr. Richmond realized she and Betty were sitting nearby.

“Her body,” Mr. Richmond said, “was lying a few feet away.
 
She had been scalped and left not more than a day ago.”

As Hannah gasped, Mr. Richmond turned to look her in the eyes.

“Um…Mrs. Anderson, I am most sorry,” he fumbled an apology as Hannah stood.
 
“I did not realize you were listening.
 
Please forgive me.”

Hannah merely nodded, before running just past their wagon.
 
Her stomach roiled as her mind became consumed with fear.
 
Not more than a day ago that poor woman had been brutally murdered in one of the cabins a few yards away.
 
Was her murderer still lurking in the shelter of the forest?
 
Would he attack the unsuspecting wagon train?
 
Would they wake up in the morning to a massacre?

“Dear,” Betty asked nearing her side, “are you alright?”

Hannah nodded, taking a few deep breaths of crystalline air to calm her stomach.
 
“Do you suppose,” she asked Betty, “that they are still out there?”

“Who, dear?”

“Whoever did that…horrific…” Hannah stopped abruptly, trying to push the image from her mind.

Betty placed an arm around Hannah’s shoulder.
 
“I would not worry, dear.
 
We have a camp full of brawny men and mounted cavalry.
 
We could not be safer.”

Hannah wished she felt safe.