“Let’s ride on,” Amy said impatiently.
Daniel dropped his hand. He had been studying the squat adobe fort sprawled across the horizon. “Go on?” Shaking his head, Daniel said, “Sweetheart, I know you’re anxious, but we can’t ride day and night. For one thing, I wouldn’t want the wrong people to get to wondering where we’re going in such a hurry. Chivington made it clear we weren’t to talk about his mission.”
Touching Amy’s hand, he added, “Let’s stay here at the fort tonight. I’ll hold services according to plan. I’ll also look at the army maps and get information about the trails.”
Slowly Amy said, “This is frightening—like a bad dream. At home the war talk was easy to ignore. I mean, we’re so far from Washington and even farther from the South where the fighting is going on. Now all of a sudden it’s here.”
Daniel nodded. “But, Amy, don’t get in a panic over it. It’s going to be two armies fighting it out, probably somewhere out in the middle of the desert. We’ve little chance of getting close enough to be involved.
“My guess is we’ll have all the protection we need if we stick to the well-traveled routes. From what Chivington said, we’ll have to avoid Raton Pass through the mountains.”
He paused, then added, “We also need to get all the information we can about the location of the Confederates.”
“Why did he tell us to stay off Raton Pass? You said Mother and Father traveled that route.” She read the answer in his expression. Slowly she said, “I guess I can add up the facts. Chivington, Colorado Volunteers, and Raton Pass. You said we need information—about the fighting going on right now?”
He nodded and Amy began shaking her head as he added, “It would be better for you to stay here.”
“With all these men? Daniel, I just refuse to let you go without me.”
He studied her face before admitting, “I guess you’ll be just as safe with me. If Fort Union falls, Fort Garland stands a good chance of being attacked next. I’d rather have you where I can—” His grin was strained as he added, “Now you’ve got me thinking war. Besides, it’s easier for just the two of us to be dodging an army. At least two won’t kick up as much dust as a thousand troops do. And even in war the clergy are given special consideration.
“Let’s move out.” He turned his horse and headed for the adobe fort.
That night during the evening services, while Amy led the singing she watched the serious eyes of the young men. Their sober gaze made her heart heavy with dread. Daniel, it is serious, she thought. More than you think. Look at their eyes. They know what is going on in New Mexico, and they’re thinking hard about eternity.
As Daniel stood to preach, she watched the men lean forward with elbows on knees. From her seat behind them, she studied their knobby-knuckled hands and the slender young shoulders hunched with tension.
The attentive spirit of the young men caught at her throat, and she found her mood lining up with theirs. War. Mother and Father are somewhere in the middle of it all. What is it like to know my fellowmen are ready to kill for gold—for a cause I can’t understand? She rubbed her chilled arms as she looked at Daniel.
Daniel echoed the word back. “Gold. If only men would guard the treasure God has put within them. The Divine has created us with the potential for fellowship with himself, and we hold this treasure lightly. There’s not a miner alive who would sit by and let someone walk off with his bag of gold nuggets.”
Later she and Daniel crossed the parade grounds to the quartermaster’s cabin where they were to sleep. The moon had risen, and in the cold light the adobe fort seemed strangely isolated and lonesome. A coyote raised his mournful yipping from a distant hill. The horses in the corral snorted and shifted uneasily. Amy tightened her grip on Daniel’s arm.
Inside the tiny chamber she watched Daniel spread their blankets on the floor. With the last one in place, he leaned back to look at her, asking, “What were you thinking tonight? I saw you shiver as those young men came down to pray.”
“War. Daniel, it’s frightening. I was thinking it must be terrible to be a soldier, knowing each day dawns with the possibility of riding out to meet a foe. No wonder their eyes were serious, and that they were so attentive. I wonder that they ever manage a smile. And now we’re going down there.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. With a strained grin, he asked, “A risk? Isn’t all of life a risk? Is it so different for them?” His voice dropped to a brooding murmur. “Granted, the stakes are higher for them, but still, each one of us faces risk in our daily lives.”
He slanted a glance at her, trying for a lighthearted grin as he spoke. But she saw the question in his eyes as he said, “How do you young women so bravely dash into marriage knowing you must face childbirth? Far too many women die for their loving.”
She looked up into his brooding dark eyes. “Daniel,” she whispered, going to kneel on the blankets beside him. For a moment she couldn’t answer; then slowly she began. “Children. Of course I want them. I’m not thinking about the risk. It is a threat we live with unheedingly. Daniel, to think on all this makes a body nearly afraid to draw another deep breath. Do you worry about our loving?”
“I don’t think worry is the word, but I’m aware of the danger. Amy, I don’t know how people like Lizzie can laugh through life. But isn’t living for the Lord Jesus Christ really a matter of doing our best down here and then leaving the rest in His hands? Even life and death? Childbirth or war? The question isn’t whether we live or die, but whether we end up satisfied with our lives when the end comes.”
He brooded on. “The Bible tells us we have no control over the length of our life. And God knows about childbirth and war, so that makes the other thoughts such as the dread and fear of death seem just plain out of line. Unless, of course, the Holy Ghost is pointing out a man’s need of salvation. In that situation, there’s no way a man can escape the dread without dealing with his need.”
In the morning as they left the fort behind, Daniel said, “I had a chance to look at the map. It’s straight south for us. The first settlement we’ll reach is San Luis. It’ll be Catholic and Spanish. Even if they could understand us, I doubt we’ll be given a voice, and I doubt they’re looking for an itinerant preacher anyway.” He added, “According to the map, from there on down into New Mexico, the other settlements are too small to be called towns.”
“But Father Dyer preaches to any man he can back into a corner long enough.”
“Not to the Catholics who can’t speak plain old American.”
The morning was crisp. Frost had outlined every bush and blade of grass with brilliance, reminding Amy it was still the middle of March.
During the days that followed, the miles before them slanted down out of the high mountain country. Cedar and piñon gave way to sage and mesquite, while rocky paths disappeared into sandy trails. They rode rapidly toward the border separating the two territories and discovered the lowlands were pleasantly warm and dry. The trail before them was clear-cut, marked by a line of scanty vegetation worn thin by the hooves of animals.
Nodding at the trail, Daniel said, “This morning a fellow told me a bit about New Mexico. Seems there’s a gent by the name of Maxwell who just about owns all of the southeast quarter of the territory. They tell me he’s a white man, known pretty much as a fair dealer and interested in both the Mexicans and Indians.
“They also told me an Indian agent by the name of Arny has pretty much finalized plans for an Indian reservation, using part of Maxwell’s land grant. A small part.”
“They’re starting to talk reservation here too?”
Daniel nodded. “Times are bad for them.” Impatiently Daniel added, “They can’t glean a living off the land now. We’ve helped abuse the land and ruin the game herds, so they’ve every right to be unhappy. But it’s easy for the white man to forget the facts when it’s his house being burned and his family murdered.” He shook his head. “Now the government is scratching hard to make peace and settle the Indians on tribal lands. I don’t agree with the methods, but I don’t know better how to do for them. Without reservation land, they’ll starve.”
The following day they rode into New Mexico Territory. Daniel said, “There’s no longer a need to pretend to be only missionaries for the Methodist Episcopal Church, going about our business. Amy, from here on out, we’ll stretch leather until we get to Santa Fe. Then we’ll start asking questions.”
“About Mother and Father?” He nodded, and she persisted, “Heading into Santa Fe means we’ll be close to where the fighting is. Maybe closer to the Confederate Army than Mother and Father?” His nod was abrupt.
As Daniel said, they stretched leather, and there was no longer opportunity to talk much while their horses trotted side by side, pausing occasionally to nibble at the grass along the trail.
Under the hooves of the horses the fine soil was beaten into a stifling cloud that drifted and settled, coating them from head to toe. In an attempt to avoid the dust, Amy stuffed her blond curls into Daniel’s old hat.
On the following day, they stopped to water the horses at midday. While they waited, Daniel said, “I have an idea. Let’s have something to eat while I tell you about it.”
While Amy opened the pack of food, he said, “Sweetheart, what would you think of wearing this other pair of trousers?”
She thought about it. “Because I am a woman and you think it will make people guess me to be a fellow? Do you think it would make me safer? And what about a fellow on a sidesaddle?”
“It wouldn’t be obvious from a distance. Up close, nobody in his right mind would mistake you for a man anyway, sidesaddle or no.” He grinned affectionately and winked at her.
“Seems to me, Daniel, we’re more harmless looking just the way we are.” She saw his face and rushed to him. “Don’t worry, my husband. Remember, these are the risks. Two days ago, you were talking brave talk about trusting the Lord, even in these risks.”
She watched the lines of strain on his face as he said, “It’s different having a wife along.”
“I should hope so!” Finally he grinned and reached for her. In a moment she pushed away from his kisses, saying, “I have a big desire to wash the dust off my face.”
He hugged her, not wanting to disappoint her, but he knew they needed to push on. “Could be a waste of time. Anyway, we’ll reach Taos before sundown. Tonight, if we’re fortunate, we’ll find enough water for bathing.”
“What is Taos?”
“Indian pueblo. They told me that at Fort Garland. My dear wife, we’re both going to learn something new this trip. I’ve not yet seen an Indian pueblo. Father Dyer saw it on his visit, said it was very old. They told him it’s been inhabited for hundreds of years.”
“Pueblo?” she questioned as she divided the meat and bread.
“About like a bunch of Indian huts stuck together and stacked on top of each other. Adobe.”
By midafternoon they were into the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Fir forests darkened the slopes and deep canyons. Daniel had been riding ahead. Now he turned his mare and came back to Amy. “Sangre de Cristo.” His tongue poured out the liquid phrase. “Father Dyer says it means the atonement blood of the crucified Christ. I don’t know the significance of the name in connection with the mountains.”
The trail led deeper into the awesome canyons. Amy whispered. “Daniel, I can’t help wondering where this is taking us.”
“Well, for one thing, look up ahead.” He turned to point upward. In front of them, the sun slanting between the mountains spread light across a block of brightness. At first it seemed an illusion, but as Amy studied it, she saw its dimensions and bulk. It was very real, rearing up between the screen of trees sketching out the river course.
Slowly Amy murmured, “Giant blocks. Could it possibly be—”
“Taos pueblo.” They continued their ride in silence as they followed the winding trail through the rocks and trees. When they broke out into the clearing, the late afternoon sun struck them full in the face.
Daniel led the way toward the final crude bridge separating them from the pueblo. Curiosity had Amy leaning forward in her saddle. She had nearly forgotten her fatigue and thirst as she croaked, “Daniel, that pueblo is as big as a mountain! Those poles—are they ladders going up to the flat roof?”
Daniel nodded. “Don’t see any doors on the ground level, do you? The second story seems to be a courtyard area. I see more ladders going up to the next level.”
“Five stories,” Amy counted slowly, adding, “The last level has a ladder sticking out the roof.” She reached for his arm and pointed at the line of Indian children gazing at them from the opposite bank. “Look at the darling little children. They have such big black eyes!”
Daniel chuckled. “It’s your hair and brick red face that’s making their eyes big.” He added, “Let’s just stay on the main road and ride through to the little village.
“You notice there aren’t any mamas and papas around trying to be friendly. Even if they were to appear and offer a room on the top floor, I’ve been warned against spending the night in the pueblos.” At Amy’s quick glance, he added, “Besides, tonight might be the night I take up sleepwalking.”
The village they entered was crowded nearly on the heels of the pueblo. Daniel murmured, “It’s obviously Spanish; there’s not a white person to be seen.”
While they rode slowly down the one short street, a covey of children began to follow, screaming incomprehensible sentences at them. Amy winced and shifted uneasily, but Daniel’s puzzled frown disappeared.
He began chuckling. As he smiled and nodded, he said. “See, Amy, that little fellow is pretending he’s a sleepy bird. I think he’s offering us lodging.” Daniel slipped off his mare and Amy followed. They tied their horses to the hitching post beside the community well and turned to follow the grinning child.
The houses lining the street were all of adobe, as well as the wall circling each home. Amy nearly fell over her feet as she strained to see everything at once. “Oh, look! Daniel, slow down and look. It’s so different. What are those pretty red things hanging beside the door?”
“Strings of chili peppers.” Daniel tugged at her arm and they followed the dark-haired youngster through the courtyard.
“So strange,” Amy murmured; “not a scrap of green grass. Daniel, it looks to me like they’ve swept their yard!” She pointed to the line of scratches in the hard-packed earth.
Daniel nodded. “Come along; I don’t want to lose the fellow. As Amy followed him, she noticed the plain brown adobe house in front of them had a bright blue door adorned with a string of chili peppers. The house was as flat-topped as its pueblo neighbors, with tiny windows recessed in the thick dun-colored walls.
She was still looking around when a pleasant-faced woman came out, smiling and nodding as she gestured toward another door. They followed her into the tiny room. Amy turned slowly, while Daniel pulled out coins and offered them to the woman.
“I think it is well we have food and blankets,” Amy said as the woman closed the door behind her. She went to peer at the fireplace. “If it weren’t for the smoke-blackened wall, I’d have named it anything except a fireplace.”
Daniel crossed the room. “Looks like part of a beehive stuck there in the corner. Interesting the way they’ve stacked wood on end. I suppose that’s the way it’s to be burned.”
“Whitewashed, everything in the room,” Amy pronounced before tilting her head to look up. “Oh, except the ceiling. A strange one it is. Daniel, it looks like the outside of a thatched roof.”
During the following days Amy and Daniel traveled through one small village after another as they circled down through the mountains.
One afternoon Daniel said thoughtfully, “Amy, I’ve been seeing something new today, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I think it’s fear. The people we’re meeting today seem uneasy and not very friendly. From the expression in their eyes, I get the feeling they know something we don’t know. I wish I could communicate with them, let them know we are friends.”
“Are we?” Amy asked soberly.
“I wondered how they felt,” he admitted. “I’ve wondered about the fighting that’s been going on. From what Father Dyer’s told me, the people are accustomed to having someone’s thumb in their back. He was of the opinion they wouldn’t know how to behave if the thumb was gone.”
****
That next week, one evening at dusk they reached the outskirts of the large village spread at the foot of the mountains.
Daniel murmured, “It must be Santa Fe. Look at the trees. They’ve been planted here; see the difference? I’m guessing this place is old and well established. That fits the description I was given. At Fort Garland they told me there’s a fort in Santa Fe. The commanding officer at Fort Garland didn’t know whether it’s still in federal hands.”
Amy pointed. “Look over that way. See all those buildings and corrals? There’s also a big bare spot in the middle; could it be—”
“Fort Marcy,” Daniel supplied. “I believe you’re right.”
“Why don’t we go down there?” Amy asked. “We’ll be safe in a fort.”
Daniel shaded his eyes and continued to study the line of buildings. Slowly he said, “I don’t know; there’s something about that place—I just don’t know. Let’s ride into town instead. If the Confederates were to start delivering shells that direction, I wouldn’t want to be there.”
“Shells? Are you talking about a cannon?” Amy asked. “In the beginning all this didn’t seem real. Now you’re worried about a cannon. What next? Daniel, what shall we do now?”
He shrugged. “I’ve no idea except to suggest we ride into town and see what we can find out.”
Dismay kept Amy silent as she studied his face, and fought back the desire to suggest going home. But we still haven’t found Mother and Father. They might be in danger if the war has moved this close. I can’t be a baby now. She nodded and said, “All right, Daniel, let’s go.”
As they started down the canyon road, the red ball of the setting sun abruptly disappeared behind the bank of tree-covered hills. Amy glanced uneasily at Daniel as he led them through the cluster of small adobes and wound down the trail into the middle of town.
There was only one woman in the shady square. As they rode closer, Amy saw she was drawing water at a well in the square. As they rode across the cobbled plaza, the clop of the horses’ hooves was amplified, echoing from the ring of adobe buildings surrounding the square.
At Daniel’s nod they slipped from their mares. Taking the reins in his hands Daniel turned to study the surrounding buildings. Evening shadows were quickly spreading across the square. The long, low line of buildings seemed to have linked hands like stoic family members ready to repel strangers.
Daniel still held their mounts as he walked toward the woman pulling her bucket of water to the stone wall. Daniel’s horse caught the scent of water and snorted.
The woman turned. Slipping the reins to Amy, Daniel went forward to meet her. In careful, slow English, he began his request. She interrupted. “Sir, I speak your language.” Amy listened to her slow, musical sentences, admiring more than understanding the words. When the woman stopped and waited, Daniel came back to Amy.
“Amy, she can offer us lodging. I think we’d better take it. She says Fort Marcy has been taken by the Confederates. I think she guessed we aren’t sympathetic to the southern cause. I’m not certain this is a good idea, but—”
With her voice low, Amy slowly finished the thought, “We’ve no choice.”