Through Rushing Water (48 page)
“I will give the matter my utmost attention,” Montgomery promised.
A muscle twitched in the chief's jaw. It was evident that Montgomery had worn out his welcome.
Sophia saw it too. She guided the congressman to two men talking beside the piano.
“âthe most important civil rights trial since the Dred Scott decision,” expounded a man with a thick wave of dark hair to a young Indian man in a suit.
Sophia introduced the congressman to Thomas Henry Tibbles, the associate editor of the Omaha
Herald
.
“I read your articles in the New York paper. Good writing,” Montgomery said. “Smart move enlisting the churches' support.”
“God and the Declaration of Independence say all men are created equal. Let us work to make it so.” Mr. Tibbles and Mr. Montgomery exchanged some serious hand pumping. Then Tom nodded at Sophia. “I couldn't have done it without Sophia and Will providing the context, the history of the tribe.”
“All I did was tell the truth.”
“Newspapermen need more than one source to verify a story. Your help was essential.”
“You are too kind,” she murmured. She introduced Montgomery to Francis LaFlesche, Susette's brother, who had interpreted for Standing Bear at the trial. The young man asked about job opportunities in Washington. The congressman beat around the bush so fast he made himself dizzy.
Next she introduced the lawyers, Andrew Poppleton and John Webster, and Judge Elmer Dundy. The men traded credentials like poker players laying out their hands. It turned out Poppleton had studied with a New York lawyer Montgomery knew.
“For all the hot air in here,” the general muttered to Will, “your house is still remarkably comfortable.”
Will grinned and took the opportunity to explain his system to optimize air circulation.
Optimize?
Being married to Sophia sure had expanded his vocabulary.
“How did you meet this young lady?” Montgomery asked the lawyers, pointing to Sophia.
“We go to church together at Trinity,” Mr. Webster said.
Mr. Poppleton nodded. “My daughter was in Sophia's French class at the College. And Will built my house. Finer people you've never met.”
Judge Dundy toasted Sophia with his cup of punch. “Sophia taught my daughter, May, at Brownell Hall. I'm a trustee there. So when Mr. Tibbles told us the army was holding the Poncas at Fort Omaha, we already had a handle on the situationâbackground information, you might say.”
“I notice Dundy's not admitting he was out hunting when we needed him,” the general noted.
“I'm surprised he's not dragging the bear out to show everyone.” Will nodded at the rug, which lay between the fireplace and Sophia's reading chair.
“That's the one?” General Crook studied the pelt. “Not bad.”
Montgomery tipped his head like a king giving a favor. “I should meet this Will everyone raves about. Even the driver who brought me up from the hotel bragged about the house Will built for him.”
The general murmured, “I'd better take your little fellow; leave your arms free to punch this windbag.”
“And of course you must meet General Crook.” Sophia led Montgomery into the study and made the introductions.
Nicholas managed to grab the points of the man's beard in each fist.
“General, I am so sorry.” Sophia held out her hands. The baby smiled, let go, and reached for his mother. She turned him away from her to save her necklace from his eager grasp.
The general winced and patted his jaw as if trying to reattach his whiskers. “Powerful grip for a little fellow.” Then he turned his piercing gaze on Montgomery. “You boys in Congress have sure put my army between a rock and a hard place. Washington always orders the opposite of what I recommend.”
Montgomery squirmed. “The electorate has spokenâ” The plans caught his eye. “You're building the general a house?”
“His is about done. These drawings are for officers' quarters at the fort.”
“We have soldiers doing the work under Will's command. And a few of his Ponca friends, skilled carpenters, have made good use of their time at Fort Omaha.” The general looked up, his open hand indicating their house. “As you can see, his work is unrivaled.”
“You built this?” Montgomery gave the room a second look, noticing the Ponca design inlaid into the floor and around the fireplace. He gave a low whistle. The guy might be a fool when it came to women, but he seemed to recognize quality woodwork. He twirled his mustache. “Don't suppose you'd be interested in setting up shop in New York?”
Sophia shook her head. “Omaha is home.”
The thought had preyed on Will's mind that marrying him had circumscribed Sophia's life, making her world smaller than she might have otherwise chosen. Tonight she put an end to that worry.
“Thanks,” Will said, mostly to Sophia. Then he turned to Montgomery. “I've got enough here to keep me busy through the end of the century.”
“And what a fine century it will be.” Montgomery blinked at the baby who regarded him with solemn wariness. “Ah, another masterpiece.”
Sophia kissed the fuzz on the baby's head. “Our son, Nicholas.”
We are so blessed
.
The mantel clock chimed the hour. “I must go,” the congressman declared to everyone's relief. “I'm on the night train to Chicago.”
“Trying one of those new Pullman sleeping cars?” the general asked. “So comfortable, it hardly seems like travel.”
Julia's wedding dress, displayed on the long wall beside the stairway, caught the congressman's eye. The gas chandelier brought out the colors in the beading. “A remarkable artifact. A bold choice in decoration.”
If he thought it was amazing on the wall, Will thought, he ought to see it on Sophia. Not that Will would ever allow that to happen.
Sophia rolled her lips together, a sure sign her patience had reached its limit. The congressman had passed by tomahawks in the dining room, a war bonnet in the parlor, and a bear claw necklace in the study without noticing. When he leaned on the desk, he'd almost put his hand through Sophia's gusli; Will guessed she'd never played it for him.
She led Montgomery to the hall tree. “Thank you again for your interest in the Poncas' cause.”
His interest was minimal at best, since Indians weren't allowed to vote, but Sophia had ways of twisting his arm. “You're welcome,” he said with a grunt.
“You have not said how Annabelle and Zelinda are doing.”
“The baby is fine.” Montgomery's voice echoed off the tile of the vestibule. “You correspond with Annabelle. You know how she is. Not the legislator's wife you would have been, Sophia. You've accomplished so much: freeing the Poncas, teaching, making a home, starting a family.”
He shook the baby's hand with a formality that had Will wondering how much time the man spent with his own child. “What crusade will you undertake next? Women's suffrage, the temperance movement, workers' rights?”
“All worthy causes. But the Poncas still need to receive title to their homeland. The Sioux do not want it. No one lives on it now.” She put his coat and hat into his hands so he couldn't sneak in a hug. “The only barrier to restoration is the United States government.”
Montgomery twitched, bracing for the onslaught of Sophia's persuasion. “I sense the emergence of another letter-writing campaign.”
“As God directs.”
Will came up behind Sophia, wrapped his arm around her, and rested his palm on her waist. “If she can work it into her schedule.”
Realization dawned in Montgomery's eyes. “Congratulations. I wish you the best, both of you.”
Sophia watched him go, then turned to Will. “I have a thought.” She always did. “When my ambition was to become a woman of influence, I gained nothing. But when I let go of those aspirations and allowed God to lead me, I found fulfillment, and purpose, and”âshe smiled at himââ“love.”
Will leaned down and she rose on tiptoes to meet him. Her willing body melted into his arms. Her lips met his in a perfect fit.
A little boy's hand swatted his cheek.
Ah, yes. They had a young man who needed to be put to bed. A house full of guests. Work to do. A calling to fulfill.
And love.
Always, always love.
1. Sophia signed up for a mission trip with mixed motives. Nettie assures her God can use her anyway. What is your experience with mission trips? What is the “right” motive? How has God used you?
2. What is your impression about missionaries and culture? In what ways does culture entangle the gospel?
3. At times, Sophia feels useless and is concerned her actions have brought disaster to the Ponca people. Have you ever felt that way about your work? What was behind that feeling?
4. On New Year's Day, James asks the staff to list their accomplishments of the previous year and goals for the next. How can we evaluate the effectiveness of a mission? Should we?
5. In the United States, more women than men earn college degrees. As with Sophia, today's woman may marry a man who has less formal education than she does. What challenges will this disparity bring to the relationship?
6. Will tells Sophia to “ignore the rushing waters.” What rushing waters in your life must you ignore?
7. Five of the people involved in the trial of Standing Bear were connected to one church. What is the role of the church in government policies and social justice issues?
8. When Sophia sees a problem, she charges in, saying, “Don't worry, God! I'll fix this!” When Will sees a problem, unless it is his area of expertise, he waits to see what God will do. Who is right? Where are you on this spectrum?
S
tanding Bear's speeches are the only documentation of the removal by a member of the Ponca tribe. The lack of other eyewitness accounts is testimony to the depth of tragedy this eviction represents. In the struggle for survival, stories were one of their many losses. Undoubtedly I have made errors in recounting the Poncas' story; please accept my apology.
Government employees, on the other hand, left a substantial paper trail. Whenever possible their words were used in dialogue. I hope you find them offensive. There is no evidence that agent James Lawrence imbibed, only the question of how he coped.
The character of Sophia originated from the discovery that a Russian woman taught at a Ponca school. A woman with the same name, Eugenie Nicolas, taught French at Vassar. Was this the same person?
Will is a tribute to all those unnamed heroes in every ministry who make sure the lights turn on, the furnace heats, and the projector shows the next song. We never spare a thought for them until something breaks.
Through Rushing Water
is a work of fiction. If you'd like to know more, I recommend
“I Am a Man”: Standing Bear's Journey for Justice
by Joe Starita and
Unspeakable Sadness
by David Wishart.
F
or research help, I'm grateful to Stanford Taylor of the Ponca Museum, Rebecca White, chairwoman of the Ponca Tribe of Nebraska, Deacon Ellen Ross of Trinity Church, Beverly Otis, president of the Trinity Historical Society, DeVon Coble of Brownell-Talbott School, and Larisa Treskunova, formerly of Russia. Nebraska Novelists went above and beyond for this story, especially Katherine Barnett on the Russian Orthodox Church, Angela Kroeger on coinage, and Jeanne Reames on Native American culture. Any errors are my own.
A standing ovation to Amanda Bostic and the Thomas Nelson team for their expertise and commitment to quality. It's an honor to work with you.
Heartfelt thanks to agent Sandra Bishop for her wise guidance through the publishing maze.
Many thanks to my family, especially Mom for visits to the Douglas County Historical Society and the Smithsonian Anthropological Archives, and George for chauffeuring me around the gorgeous homeland of the Ponca tribe.
And thank you to my readersâyour encouragement means more than you'll ever know. I'd love to connect with you through my website,
www.CatherineRichmond.com
, or Facebook's Fans of Catherine Richmond page, or by mail at Thomas Nelson, P.O. Box 141000, Nashville, TN 37214, Attn: Author Mail. Blessings on your mission!
