Two days after leaving the Maxwell land grant, the wagon train reached the summit of Raton Pass. Since early morning heavy clouds had billowed over the mountain. Now it was snowing. Amy and Amelia were huddled in heavy coats, but the wind-driven snow lashed at their faces.
“Stay close to the wagon,” Amelia called as they rode along. Amy nodded and clung to the reins. The snow in front of the horses swirled, making Amy dizzy as she strained to see the trail in front of them. By the time they reached the crest of the mountain, the snow had nearly obscured the wagons. With heads down, the horses slowed to a walk, while snow piled a crown of white on their forelocks.
“Hey there!” Amy heard Downs long before she saw him. He appeared out of the storm like a white apparition. His hat and coat were plastered with snow while moisture dripped from his eyelashes as he said, “How about tying those mares to the back of the wagon? It’ll be warmer inside.”
“Eli needs all the space,” Amelia said tersely. “We’ll manage.”
Amy’s teeth were chattering as she asked, “Will we be stopping soon?”
There was a worried frown on Downs’ face. He shook his head, saying, “Not until we get down off this mountain. Rate this snow is falling, we won’t be able to find the road by morning. I’m guessing another hour will see us out of the worst of it. Welcome to Colorado Territory, ladies.” He touched his hat and rode away.
“Amy, there’s room in the wagon for you,” Amelia offered, guiding her horse close and peering down at Amy.
Amy saw the worried frown and shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Mother. I’m just as tough as you are. I just hope—”
Amelia reached across to Amy. “Please, dear, don’t worry; instead let’s pray that he’s not out in this.”
By late afternoon, they had dropped down to the lowlands. The snow stopped and the Colorado foothills were nearly as warm as the New Mexico flatlands had been. Amy looked at the sagebrush decorated with a frosting of snow and said, “I didn’t think sage could possibly be this welcome.”
Amelia pointed ahead, saying, “I’m of the opinion that’s the ranch we’re bound for. The first wagon is turning off the road, and I think I see buildings in the distance.”
“I wonder if there are Indian troubles ahead,” Amy mused.
“Because we’re stopping early?” Amelia asked, shaking the wet snow off her scarf. “Well, I’ll be grateful for shelter for any reason.”
Lights were appearing in the windows of the long, low adobe building as they rode up. Amy watched the men lift her father to the ground and then hand him the crutches. Amelia gave the reins of her horse to Amy. “If you’ll take her to the barn, I’ll go with Eli.”
After taking the horses to water and giving them grain, Amy turned them out to pasture and headed for the house. When she reached the farmhouse, she followed the sound of voices and the clatter of dishes. She discovered the other travelers had gathered in the low-beamed main room.
Briefly she stood in the doorway looking around the pleasant twilight-filled hall. At the far end she could see tables being set for a meal. Logs blazed in the stone fireplace stretching across the opposite end of the room. Already the members of the wagon train were lined close to the fire, and the steam was beginning to rise from their sodden garments.
Amy unwound her scarf and pulled off her coat as she walked across the room. The wan faces of the wounded soldiers lifted, and they shuffled down to make room for her. Her father was on a bench on the far side of the fire.
She glanced around and then asked, “Where’s Mother?” The injured soldier sitting close to the fire shrugged. “Is Mother changing bandages?”
The soldier beside her answered, “No, ma’am, she’s talking to that fella over by the kitchen door. Don’t know who he is, but she headed straight over there as soon as we came in. I’m guessing it’s someone she’s known elsewhere.”
Amy followed the man’s pointing finger. In the shadows she saw the two with their heads close together. She recalled the soldier’s statement and turned away. Moving her shoulders uneasily, Amy said, “She’ll be back to help,” nodding at the soldier’s bandaged arm.
“We appreciate it,” the soldier murmured softly. “It’s good of her, and not a one of us expected that of a lady.”
Apologetically he added, “It isn’t pleasant. Thornton over there is missing the most of his hand. Your mother’s kept it from poisoning on him. Not many supplies to work with, except the turpentine.” He added, “Better that than nothing.”
“I’m surprised,” Amy said softly, “that they’d let you travel without medical supplies.”
The soldier raised his eyebrows. “Ma’am, compared to most, we don’t need anything.”
Amelia came toward the fireplace with the stranger in tow. “Amy, I’d like you to meet—”
Amy gasped, “Matt!” Amelia dropped her hand and looked from the stranger to Amy. “Mother, this is the fellow who stayed with us—the wounded soldier Daniel went to find.”
Turning back to Matt, Amy blinked as she studied the pale, weary face, and only then did she become aware of his ragged, soiled assortment of clothing. She blinked again when she saw it was topped with an old horse blanket. She opened her mouth to ask about his uniform, but his quick glance caught her attention. It was that haunted, trapped animal look. Was he pleading for silence?
Amy gulped. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“So you know my daughter?” The look Amelia turned on Matthew was sharp, questioning.
Matthew’s face was stamped with defeat. He admitted, “I was the one staying with them at Fort Union.” He turned to Amy with a perplexed frown. “Did Daniel stay behind?”
The implication struck Amy and she could only stare at him. Matthew was safe, but Daniel wasn’t with him. She turned away, saying dully, “As soon as we discovered you were missing, Daniel went looking for you. He didn’t come back.”
Matthew backed against the wall. For a moment he sagged there, slowly shaking his head. He lifted his head when Amy turned to face him. The twilight shadows of the room slanted across his pale face as he whispered, “Ma’am, I’m sorry. Will you give me your horse? I’ll go looking for him.”
“Where?” Amy stared up at him while the question settled into him. He shook his head with the futility of it and Amy stated, “Your wound needs attention. How did you walk this far in such condition?”
“Indians. That’s where I got the clothes. They were wanting information in exchange for food and shelter. But I was getting a bad feeling about it all. Uneasy is putting it mildly. Slipped out during the night.”
Amelia stepped closer to Matthew. Amy watched her intent study of his face. When Amelia turned from Matthew, her eyes had narrowed. Mother knows that man, and from her look, I don’t think she likes him at all.
Amelia’s voice cut through Amy’s thoughts. It was even, strangely controlled as she said, “Come meet Amy’s father.”
Later Amy confronted her mother, saying, “Mother, I don’t want to pry. Maybe I shouldn’t ask. How did you come to know Matt?”
Amelia frowned as she faced Amy. “I was living in Pennsylvania, working for a group of people who were helping the slaves run away from their masters.” She hesitated, and her voice softened as she went on. “Amy, when there’s more time, I’ll tell you all about it.”
She touched Amy’s cheek and said, “It’s strange we never met the Reb—the person staying with you. Surely my name was mentioned. But I can guess Matthew didn’t bother telling you that we’ve known each other for years. He has some unhappy memories of that time.”
“Oh,” Amy replied, her eyebrows raised.
Amelia turned quickly and snapped, “It’s not what you think!” Abruptly she squeezed Amy. “I’m sorry. It is nothing more than I deserved, but it wasn’t that at all. One of these days, when I can—” She paused. “For now we’ll just have to wait for our talk.”
After supper Amy helped with the dishes while the wounded travelers huddled around the fire. By the time the dishes were finished, the soldiers began to disappear. One by one they carried their blankets off to the sleeping quarters. When Amy came back into the room, she found Downs beside the fire with her mother and father.
Amy sat down on the bench as Amelia addressed him. “This young fellow, Matt, wants to ride with us tomorrow. I knew him years ago, and I think he’s a pretty decent fellow. He told me he’s down on his luck, doesn’t have a horse, and he needs a ride into Denver.”
Downs listened intently, studying Amelia’s face as she talked. Amy could see the hesitancy reflected in his eyes. Finally he said, “We’ve been cautioned against picking up riders. There’s rumors of soldiers, both Union and Confederate, cutting out of New Mexico. How do I know he isn’t one of them?”
“Does it matter? He’s human and needs a helping hand right now. Seems to me that’s most important.” Amelia delivered the statement in an even, emotionless voice, while Amy sat on her hands to hide their trembling.
Downs continued to study Amelia. Finally he got to his feet, saying, “Might tell the fellow he can join up with us. We may need all the Indian fighters we can get before this trip is over. I hear the Utes are riled and they’re headed this way.”
“I thought the Utes left the white people alone,” Amy said slowly.
“Not now. In the past they’ve been pretty easy to get along with, but with the war, right now all the Indians need to be regarded as dangerous. Don’t forget, the fighting in New Mexico has drained off the protection the soldiers have given us in the past. Like I said, we need all the help we can get.” He started to walk away and then he stopped and turned back to them.
“Don’t waste time a-worryin’ about Indians. There’s a string of little settlements all the way up to Denver. Might say we’ll plan on hopping from one to the other. The worst that could happen is we’ll have to hole up in some little village for a time.”
Amelia watched Amy climb the stairs to the room shared by the girls of the house. She turned to see Eli struggle to remove his one boot.
“Wait a minute and I’ll help you,” she told him. Picking up the pile of blankets and quilts, she carried them to the bunk built into the wall close to the fireplace.
Eli crossed the room on his crutches and helped her straighten the bedding. “Eli,” she said slowly, “I’ve something on my mind; could I tell you about it before we sleep?”
His voice was a low rumble. “I figured as much. Might as well.”
“Oh, Eli,” she murmured, hesitating, and then said, “Please, be patient with me. It’s about Matthew. See, I know him from the past. We were together in Pennsylvania. Right now I have a feeling Matthew needs help from a person who knows something about him. I saw your eyes when I introduced him. I don’t deserve your trust, but please, Eli, I must beg this of you. Be patient and don’t think wrong of me.” With a touch of sarcasm, she added, “How could anyone think me other than what I appear?”
“Well, I do. I nearly thought—” Amelia caught her breath and he added sadly, “Even a joke can’t be said.”
He seemed to be studying every scar on her face as he added, “And you’ll need to be patient with me, Amelia. Old thoughts take a while to die.”
“Never mind that now. I’m trying to tell you, this young man needs our help and prayers. I’ll do my best to see he travels on with us—clear to Denver City, if possible.”
He smiled at her and touched her cheek. “Go to it, my dear, and may you have good success. I promise you I won’t act the part of a jealous husband.”
“Eli, you are only half serious. I see this as a second chance for Matthew. But he’ll need to unscramble the mess he has made of his life. This is a cause for desperate prayer.”
Eli studied her face soberly. Finally he said, “Then, my dear, come to bed and we’ll pray together. But I think you need to tell me more.”
Amelia hesitated. “If I tell you all, then how effective can your ministry be to him? I think he needs to do the telling.”
The next morning Amelia decided where Matt would ride. She looked from the crowded wagon to the two horses and said, “I guess we can trade off. Me and you, Matt. Eli needs to keep that leg straight, and you look like you could use a good rest for a couple of days. That wagon seat is only next best to nothing. We’ll see if you can squeeze in beside Eli.”
The sun was bright as they left the ranch and turned back onto the main road. Amy rode ahead of the wagon. She could hear her mother, riding beside the wagon, talking to her father and Matthew.
Blocking out their words, Amy sighed wearily and rubbed her forehead as her horse plodded along. As she reviewed the tossing and turning she had done most of the night, she heard Amelia’s horse cantering up beside her.
“I changed Matthew’s bandages this morning,” Amelia began. “That was a nasty wound. Did you have trouble with it?”
Amy nodded. “There were two days when we thought the fever would take him. Strange, Matt didn’t seem happy about having Daniel pray for his arm.”
Amelia gave her a quick glance. “That tells me things I need to know about him.”
They rode in silence. Fear for Daniel crept in and possessed her thoughts. Gently Amelia asked, “You having trouble with Matt being here?”
Amy sighed and admitted, “Is it any wonder? Daniel—”
“Dear, I know. Please, Amy, don’t let bitterness rob you of hope. Right now that’s the only thing that’s keeping us going.”
Through the tears she looked at her mother. “Us?” she questioned.
“Of course. He’s your husband, but we love him, too. Eli just told me he spent most of yesterday praying that things will go well with Daniel, that the Lord will deliver—”
Amy groped for Amelia’s hand, and it was there, warm against her face.
Throughout the day they rode in sunshine across the dry, barren end of the territory. Eli explained it all from his bed in the wagon. “You notice it’s just like New Mexico land. Well, this part of the territory was Mexican land a long time before boundaries were set. The Mexicans living in this part of the territory didn’t get too disturbed when they discovered they lived outside of New Mexico. They’ve clung to their traditions, and life has gone on just the same for them.”
That night the three wagons drew close together for protection, while the horses and mules were picketed within the shelter of the wagons.
Downs had picked a camp just outside a tiny, quiet Mexican village.
By the time Amy was off her horse, the men had taken the horses to water. She watched them hobble the horses and mules close to the wagons on a grassy slope. When they left to gather wood for a fire, Amy climbed the slope beyond the wagons. The little village was spread out below.
A scraggly line of trees marked the river and shaded the village of adobe huts. It appeared the huts had been built close together, with their adobe walls joining to form a solid, square fort.
From the wagon camp, the village seemed too quiet—empty of life. Filled with her own personal melancholy, Amy sat down to study the village. Its strange isolation was making her uneasy, when a small boy approached.
He was herding three bleating sheep in front of him. She grinned as she watched the sheep milling around, trying to elude the youth. Just as the boy’s task seemed hopeless, a tall wooden gate creaked open. Abruptly the milling sheep broke into a run, heading straight through the gate.
The bleating faded away. Amy watched with new respect as the little fortification settled back into silence while their suppertime fires began to puff a contented message skyward.
Amelia came up the slope toward her. “Mother, I was getting worried. The village seemed too silent, empty. But now I’ve decided they are completely secure and contented. That’s a nice feeling.”
“Are the Indians making you think this way?”
“I suppose so,” Amy brooded. “Now, all of a sudden, everything is a threat.”
Amelia sighed with her and reached for her arm. “Well, come have your dinner. I’m thinking Matthew’s suffering along the same line. He seems to see threats in everything. Please don’t be too hard on him tonight.”