A Dream Unfolding (33 page)

Here they were, now in Albuquerque.
 
Waiting.
 
Again.
 
The train arrived in the town four days ago and had remained.
 
The Navajo had been particularly active in the area for the past few weeks, so the fort’s commander insisted the travelers remain for several more days until the threat of Navajo attacks diminished.
 
The commander was not taking any chances with the governor’s group.

As usual, Hannah filled the waiting with mending or laundry, such as today.
 
As she mindlessly hung the clothes out to dry, Hannah thought back to her conversation with Betty on Thanksgiving.

“Are you afraid of what we will find once we settle near Granite Creek?” Hannah asked, still quite unsettled by her recurring nightmares.

“Some.
 
Although I’ve learned a long time ago that God will provide.
 
If he has a mind to take me when we get there or along the way, then I trust He knows what He’s doing,” smiled Betty.

“But aren’t you afraid of the Indians? What if they attack us?
 
What if your son dies?”

“Hannah, when Jesus told the crowd not to worry, he meant it.
 
All of your ‘what ifs’ are what he was talking about.
 
Certainly he could take my son or me.
 
I could get sick and suffer greatly, or I might just be healthy as an ox and live a long life.
 
I don’t know what the future holds, so I choose to trust my heavenly father that does.”

Hannah could not stop thinking about what Betty said.
 
Did she really trust God, no matter what?
 
Sure she knew that Jesus died for her sins and she knew she would go to heaven.
 
But was all her fear of the unknown and the “what ifs” a lack of trust?
 
She wanted to trust God with everything.

The dream she had last night, did not help her with that trust.
 
She had tossed and turned most of the night.
 
When she finally fell asleep, the nightmare of the floating head returned—only this time she watched her husband die in her arms, unable to save him.
 
She woke up in a sweat this morning, despite the cold temperatures, and had yet to shake the horrible sensation of impending doom.
 
Could she trust God no matter what?
 
Could she trust him if this nightmare became reality?
 
Would God really bring her all this way to leave her alone?

After the dreadful years of loneliness, both living with her father and after he passed, meeting Drew had been such a blessing.
 
Not only were they in love, but they were truly friends.
 
They worked alongside each other at his office day after day enjoying each other’s companionship.
 
He made her feel special and cherished.
 
And his faith served to strengthen hers.
 
It was his shoulder she cried on when she missed her mother or needed to grieve the loss of her father’s affection.
 
Hannah was the same for Drew.
 
When he needed to talk out his frustrations over his brother’s rebellion or when he missed his parents, she was there to comfort him.
 
All of this came so easily and naturally between the two.
 
Hannah knew their bond was rare and uncommon.

What would she do if that bond was broken, if Drew were suddenly gone?
 
Ah, there was that “what if” again.
 
Maybe the dream served as a prodding from God to place Drew in his hands.
 
Lord, I know you want me to trust you, but it is so difficult.
 
I want to believe that I can trust you with Drew.
 
Please help me trust you.

Hannah waited, expecting her heart to be at peace.
 
But it was not.
 
Wasn’t that how it was supposed to work?
 
You pray, then you feel at peace?
 
It seemed like a lot of her prayers were left unanswered on this trip.

Frustrated, Hannah shook out the next piece of wet clothing.
 
She knew better.
 
She knew God did not always answer quickly.
 
She need not even talk to Betty to be reminded of that.
 
Why was it so hard to trust?

Stretching her sore back, Hannah willed her mind to rest.
 
Maybe that is what the Bible meant when it said to take captive her thoughts.
 
Maybe it was sometimes just a matter of telling herself to be quiet.
 
She smiled at the mental image of her shaking her finger, scolding herself.
 
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and forced a smile to her face.
 
She could do this.

As the sun lowered in the sky and Hannah finished preparing the evening meal, she already heard the music starting for another fandango.
 
This strange custom seemed to occur nightly no matter what town they stayed at in the New Mexico Territory.
 
She longed for a peaceful evening.

After spending eight days in Albuquerque, the commander felt the hostile Navajo were no longer a threat and allowed the wagon train to be on its way.
 
The old familiar routine of the trail prevailed.
 
Hannah was always much happier moving forward than spending days on end camped in the same location.

Toward the middle of the afternoon on the second day of travel from Albuquerque, the wagon train came upon another village, populated mostly by the peaceful Laguna Indians.
 
The town was an odd mix of adobe structures, stacked native pueblos, and the tall white façade of a Spanish mission.
 
The surrounding area was blanketed in snow-covered farm land.

The people were rather friendly hosts.
 
They treated the wagon train to a display of their native dances.
 
The more than one hundred dancers were dressed in war costumes and their bodies were painted with symbols meaningful to their tribe.
 
They howled and chanted, moving fluidly to the steady beat of several loud drums.
 
Hannah thought the display very interesting, although she understood none of their native language.

Even though the wagon train was not planning on stopping for any length of time in Laguna, they remained for two hours before continuing on to the designated camp for the evening.
 
Much of the conversation at camp centered on the strange display they witnessed.
 
When they first met the
Lagunas
, Hannah had been frightened.
 
Her dream about Drew being killed by Indians was still fresh in her mind.
 
She almost thought these were the ones who might take his life.
 
But she quickly discovered they were truly a peaceful farming community with an interesting blend of native and Catholic beliefs.
 
She supposed the latter was from the strong Spanish influence in the area and that Mexico had owned much of the territory for the past quarter of a century.

The next few days of travel were relatively quiet.
 
They arrived at Fort Wingate, the last fort in the New Mexico Territory along their journey.
 
Soon they would be in the Arizona Territory and Hannah was excited by the news.
 
Since they were staying a few days at the fort, the normal cleaning routine started the morning after their arrival.
 
Hannah wanted to get the chores done early this morning, as the governor requested their presence for supper.

That evening the meal with the governor’s party was informative, as usual.
 
The commander of Fort Wingate, a major whose name Hannah could not recall, was particularly concerned about the Navajo in the area.

“Governor, I know you have a company of cavalry assigned to your party to take permanent residence at Fort Whipple.
 
However, those forces are insufficient to offer adequate protection for your party, especially against the threat of Navajo attacks.
 
They have been particularly active in the eastern corner of the Arizona Territory and western corner of the New Mexico territory.
 
My men had several encounters this week alone,” the major emphasized the seriousness of the situation.
 
“General Carleton has assigned two additional companies to travel with you.
 
One will return here once you are safely settled at Fort Whipple.
 
The other will head south towards the Tucson area.”

“When will they arrive to escort us?
 
We have been delayed longer than we hoped and desire to be on our way,” Governor Goodwin questioned.

“They should arrive in the morning,” the major replied in his nasally voice.
 
Hannah found his tone almost condescending.
 
“We should be able to have you on your way in a day or two.
 
Please keep in mind the gravity of the situation.
 
The Navajo are not like the friendly
Lagunas
you encountered on your way here.
 
They are fearless and would have no qualms about killing you in your sleep.”

At Hannah’s gasp, Secretary McCormick reprimanded the major.
 
“You have made your point, Major.
 
No need for dramatics.
 
We welcome the escort.
 
Let’s not forget ourselves and that there are ladies present.”
 
Turning to Hannah, he added, “I do apologize for the major’s behavior, Mrs. Anderson.
 
I am certain we will all be quite
safe
.”
 
The last word he emphasized while glaring back at the major through narrowed eyes.

The major, obviously embarrassed by being put in his place, opted to concentrate his efforts on his meal.

“How much farther to the border?” Mr. Richmond asked.

One of the captains seated next to the major answered, his tone much more pleasant, “Our best estimate is that the border is just a day or two from here.
 
The true border has yet to be properly surveyed and mapped.”

“We were thinking of waiting until a few days into the territory before holding the formal inauguration.
 
Can you recommend an area that might be safe?” the governor asked.

“Navajo Springs would definitely be within the territory,” replied the captain.
 
“It is a small watering hole about four days ride from here.
 
The Navajo do not typically occupy that area.”

“Perhaps when we are finished dining you can sketch us a rough map,” suggested Secretary McCormick.

The captain nodded his agreement.

Hannah yawned before she could catch herself.
 
While she enjoyed hearing the discussions of the government officials, she found they often carried the conversation rather late.

“Mrs. Anderson,” Secretary McCormick started.
 
“Tell us, what have you found most interesting about the journey west thus far?”

Hannah thought for a moment.
 
There were so many things that were foreign to her.
 
“Well, the thing I have enjoyed the most is the beauty of the varied landscape.
 
The vast wide open prairies were so different from the rolling hills of Ohio.
 
I never dreamed one could see forever,” she said smiling.
 
“When we were winding through the mountains in Colorado, I loved the way the sun highlighted the snow caps.
 
The water there was so clear.”

“Yes, the mountains in Colorado were magnificent,” Mr. Richmond was quick to agree, “even if climbing them seemed rather daunting.”

The group chuckled.
 
Hannah continued, “In Santa Fe, I was most impressed by the vibrant colors the residents used in their blankets and clothing.
 
It is a far cry from the bland colors of wool and calico.”

“Very astute observation, Mrs. Anderson,” commented Secretary McCormick.
 
“Not only were their blankets and clothing colorful, but the people seemed to be as well.”

Hearty laughter around the table provided a response.
 
As the noise died down, Mr. Richmond asked, “What of you, Dr. Anderson?”