Chapter Eight

 

 

Retta folded her arms across her chest and forced the tears back. “We’re going to find her.”

Christen peered out the back of the O’Day wagon. “It’s getting quite dark.”

Retta folded the envelope with Gilson’s note and stuffed it into her dress sleeve. “She’s not too strong. She can’t be far.”

Joslyn picked up a small tintype picture of Gilson from the top of a crate. “Why would she want to run off in the dark?”

Retta peeked out the back of the wagon. “You’re right. It’s pitch-black out there.”

“And her parents love her so much.” Joslyn laid the tintype back on the crate. “It’s dumb to run off.”

Christen wrinkled her nose. “Couldn’t we just stand beside the wagon and yell for her?”

“No, that will alarm everyone.” Retta closed the wagon flap and sat on the edge of a water keg. “We have to find her and bring her back before her mother even knows she’s gone.”

“How?” Christen asked.

Retta rested her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hand. The air in the wagon was musty and reeked of menthol salve. “If you were really depressed and didn’t want to keep on living, where would you go?”

“I wouldn’t wander out on the dark prairie at night,” Christen declared. “Why, the Indians might get me ... or wild animals ... or outlaws ... or ... Oh, well, if I didn’t want to live, maybe I would just walk out on the prairie.”

“But I wouldn’t go toward the river,” Joslyn added.

“Why?” Retta questioned.

“Because the water is too shallow to drown in, at least nearby, and the men graze the cattle and horses that way and would find me.”

Retta reached down to the quilts and plucked up a small porcelain-headed doll. “In that case, I think I would just walk south.”

“Where?” Christen asked. “There’s nothing to the south.”

“That’s exactly why I would go there.” Retta stroked the dark-haired doll. “If I felt like Gilson, I would walk and walk and walk and walk until I got tired or fell down, and then ... then I’d just sleep in the grass and hope I never woke up.”

“You would?” Christen gasped.

Retta carefully tucked the doll under the quilt. Its head rested on the tattered pillowcase. “If I hurt bad and was as melancholy as Gilson, I would.”

Joslyn stuck her head out the back of the wagon and then pulled it back in. “But how’re we going to find her without getting lost ourselves?”

Retta chewed her lip. She glanced around the wagon. Her gaze fixed on the lamp. “Let’s each take a candle. We can hike south until we can barely see the wagon train, and then one of us could be posted there. The other two will hike farther south until we can barely see the first candle. Then the second sentinel will be posted, and the last one will go out to where she can barely see the last candle.”

“And then what?” Joslyn asked.

Retta folded her hands beneath her chin as if to pray. “We’ll call and call for Gilson.”

“And if we don’t find her?” Christen posed the question. Retta dropped her hands to her side. “We’ll ... we’ll come back here and report it all to Mrs. O’Day. It will only take a little while. We’ve got to try.”

Christen picked up the small wagon lamp. “You mean, we’ll just stand out there on the prairie and hold a candle all by ourselves?”

Retta stood and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Yes, but not for very long.”

“In the dark?” Christen whimpered.

“You’ll have candlelight.” Retta licked her fingers and tried to smooth down her thick hair.

“Will we carry guns?” Joslyn asked.

Retta glanced at Joslyn’s shiny black hair all in place. “Do you have a gun?”

Joslyn’s narrow nose wiggled in a grimace. “Eh, no.”

Retta scooted past the girls to the front of the O’Day wagon. “It won’t be too bad. We’ll be able to see each other’s candles at all times.”

Joslyn slipped her hand into Retta’s and asked in a soft voice, “Do you really think we can find Gilson?”

Retta squeezed her fingers. “We’ll probably find her by the second candle.”

“I’ve got those fat candles we made for the church bazaar back in Ohio,” Christen offered. “I was saving them for a real emergency.”

“This is a real emergency. How many do you have?” Retta asked.

“Six.”

“Bring them all,” Retta urged. “We’ll have two each.” She climbed out of the wagon and waited for the other two.

“I’m barefoot. I need to get my shoes,” Joslyn said.

“Hurry,” Retta directed.

“I’ll do it... only if...” Christen paused.

“If what?” Joslyn asked.

“If Retta wears her buckskins and brings her coup stick with us ... just in case,” Christen blurted out.

Retta put her hands on her hips. “We’re only going to be a few hundred yards from the wagon train. We must hurry.”

“Please, Retta,” Christen begged.

“Okay ... we’ll meet back here.”

“What if Mrs. O’Day returns?” Joslyn asked.

“We’ll tell her the truth,” Retta replied.

Christen pointed to the envelope up her sleeve. “And show her the note?”

“Oh.” Retta bit her lip and felt for the folded envelope. Lord Jesus, I really don’t want Mrs. O’Day to be hurt by this note. “Let’s just pray we can get Gilson back before she’s missed.”

 

* * * * *

 

When Retta reached her wagon, Ben and Travis lounged on the green trunk next to the lamp. Travis waved the coup stick. Ben wore the eagle-feather headband.

“Did you have any adventures without us?” Ben asked.

“Eh, nope. Did you?”

“Shoot, we jist now got done with them dishes.” Travis pointed to the basin full of water.

She reached out her hand. “Travis, I need the coup stick.”

He handed the rock hammer to her, and both boys jumped up. “How come, Retta? Are you goin’ after Indians again?”

She looked away from the boys. “No, of course not.”

Ben scooted around in front of her. “Then what’re you doin’?”

Retta glanced down at the packed dirt next to the wagon wheel. “Christen wanted me to bring it. Gilson hasn’t seen it yet.”

Ben tugged on his leather suspenders. “Maybe we’ll just come with you.”

Retta shook her head. “No reason for that.”

Travis sidled up next to Ben. “You don’t want us to come?”

“You can come, but you can’t go into Gilson’s wagon.”

“Why?” Ben pressed.

“There’s not enough room. Besides, she could be sleeping.”

Travis leaned real close to Retta. “You’re plannin’ to show a coup stick to someone who’s asleep?”

Ben scooted close to the other side of her. “Sounds like an adventure cookin’ to me.”

“So we’ll just tag along,” Travis declared.

Ben shoved his hands in the front pockets of his ducking trousers. “You don’t mind if I wear this headband awhile, do you?”

Retta giggled at the feather hanging down over Ben’s ear. “No, I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mind.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Mr. Bouchet says a single feather swooping to the front with those colored beads means the wearer is an unmarried girl ... in case someone’s looking for a wife.”

Travis hooted.

Retta giggled some more.

Ben jerked the headband off and tossed it to her. “I reckon I’ll wear my hat.” Then he turned back to her with a frown. “Did he really say that?”

Retta put the headband back into the valise. “Actually no. I just made it up to watch you squirm. But it might mean that. Wouldn’t you like to know what it means before you wear it?”

“Yeah, I reckon,” Ben mumbled. “But we’re still goin’ with you to Gilson’s.”

“Have you got any sulfur matches?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got three,” Ben reported. “Why?”

Retta raised her round nose and blinked her eyelids. “You certainly can’t have much of an adventure on the prairie if it’s pitch-black.”

“I knew it.” Ben yelped. “You’ve got something stirrin’. Where do we meet?”

“At Gilson’s.”

“Is this a scavenger hunt, Retta?” Travis asked.

“Sort of.”

Ben followed her toward the front of the wagon. “What’re we lookin’ for?”

Retta swung the coup stick in a circle. “Gilson.”

As Ben and Travis trotted away, Retta crawled up into the wagon. Two people sat next to her sleeping mother. “Andrew? ... Oh...”

Her sister glared at her.

“Hi, Brian. I thought you were my brother.”

“Brian came to sit with me. Isn’t that nice?” Lerryn said in her prim and proper voice.

“Yeah ... I think so.”

Lerryn folded her hands across her chest and tilted her head. “What do you want?”

Retta looked down at the front of her own dress. “I just wanted to know if Mama is okay.” Lerryn has beautiful fingers. She has beautiful everything.

“She woke up, and we visited for a while. Then she took some water and went back to sleep.”

“I reckon that’s good for her.” Retta inched a little closer to her mother. “I wonder if you hurt as bad when you’re asleep?”

“Maybe the body still hurts, but the mind doesn’t,” Brian offered.

She scooted a little closer. “Yeah, I reckon.”

“Retta, I’ll watch Mama for a while longer. You go play with your friends if you want to.” Lerryn dismissed her with a sweep of her hand.

Retta started to the front of the wagon and then turned back. “But who will go fetch Papa if Mama wakes up in bad straits?”

“I will,” Brian volunteered.

“I’ll be up by Gilson’s if you need me.”

“Bye, Retta,” Lerryn said.

“Bye.”

She climbed back down, snatched up her coup stick, and trotted along the line of dimly lit wagons.

“Retta.”

She stopped running when she heard the voice. “William?”

There was a giggle in the shadows.

“Eh ... Amy is here with me,” her brother admitted. “Yeah, so I noticed.”

“Hi, Retta.”

“Hi, Amy.”

“Is Mama still sleepin’?” William asked.

“Yes. You know how tired she’s been. It’s good for her.” Amy’s arm was tucked into her brother’s.

“Is big sis with her?” he asked.

Retta watched her brother. “Yes, and Brian is there, too.” The problem with having handsome brothers, it made all the other boys look so plain.

“Maybe me and Amy can go spell them off,” William offered.

Retta glanced back down the row of wagons. “That would be nice.... Eh ... I’m sure they will be pleased to see you.” I know, Lord, I know. Lerryn will hate me for it, but I’m doing this for her own good.

“Where are you headed?” William asked her.

Retta pointed up the line of wagons. “I’ll be up by Gilson O’Day’s.”

“What’s the coup stick for?” he challenged.

“We’re going on something like a scavenger hunt.”

“Go on, little sis, and play.” He turned to Amy. “When you’re young, every day is an adventure.”

“William Henry Barre,” Amy purred, “are you telling me you’re too old for an adventure?”

Retta rolled her eyes and trotted up the line.

When she got to Gilson’s wagon, Christen waited with Ben and Travis. “They said you invited them.”

“They invited themselves,” Retta said, “but I figure the more people we have, the deeper into the prairie we can go.”

“You didn’t wear your buckskin dress.”

“There was no place to change. Brian is helping Lerryn watch Mama.”

“And who is watching them?”

“William and Amy will be real soon.” Retta stared out into the dark. “Where’s Joslyn?”

Christen pointed to the shadows behind her. “Here she comes... with Ansley.”

Retta turned to see two girls in long dresses trot toward them.

“Were you going to do something fun and not invite me, Coretta Barre?” Ansley called out.

Retta huddled them all together. “It’s not exactly a fun excursion, Ansley, but I’m glad you’re here. We can use the help.”

“What’s this all about?” Ansley smiled. “Whose team am I on? I’ll be with Ben and Travis.”

“We’re all on Gilson’s team,” Retta replied.

After explaining the situation, Retta led them out into the darkness of the prairie carrying their candles. When they reached the point where the wagon lights dimmed in the distance, she halted them near a sand berm. “This is Christen’s post,” she announced.

“For which I’m very glad,” Christen replied. “This is about as far away from the wagons as I want to be.”

They left Christen and hiked farther into the darkness.

“Gilson?” Retta called out. “Can you hear me? We’ve come to find you.”

“Don’t you reckon she’s out farther than this?” Travis asked.

“I suppose.”

“Who’s next to be stationed?” Ansley asked.

“Ask Retta. She’s the leader of this troop,” Ben replied.

Lord, it’s funny. I've never been the leader of anything before. Especially when it comes to boys ... and girls like Ansley. I don’t even know if I know how to lead. She waved her coup stick like a teacher’s pointer. “Well ... let’s have, um, Travis next, then Joslyn, then Ben, then Ansley, and I’ll be last.”

“Why am I way out there?” Ansley protested.

“Because you’re the only one who carries a gun.”

“Here, take the gun. I don’t want it. I’ll stand between Travis and Ben,” Ansley insisted.

“I’ll take the gun,” Joslyn offered. “And I’ll go way out with Retta.”

“But you’ll stand wherever Retta tells you to stand,” Travis declared.

Retta led them farther into the darkness. “That’s fine, Ansley. You can stand between the boys. Maybe we’ll find her before we get clear out there anyway.”

When Retta stopped, they all stopped. She called into the darkness, “Gilson. Gilson, it’s me—Retta. Where are you?”

The night sky had lost all tints of gray and had turned a deep black. Stars flickered above the prairie. The wind drifted from the northwest. They shielded their candle flames with their bodies.

Lord, I’m sort of glad we didn’t find her real quick because I don’t know what to say to her yet. I’ve never been sick all the time like Gilson. So I guess I don’t really know how she feels. But I know You love her, and You must have more for her to do than just die alone out on the prairie.

So if You could lead us to her and tell me something wise to say to convince her to come back, I’d appreciate it. I just know it isn't Your will she die out here.

Retta searched the knee-high prairie grass that parted as she waded through it.

“I’d better stay here, Retta,” Travis called.

“Okay, we’ll go on,” she said. “Gilson, where are you? Answer me, please! If you hear me, please answer.”

She could feel the prairie start to slope downward. As it did, the grass waved taller.

“I’ll need to stay up here on this crest, or I won’t see Travis’s candle,” Ansley told her.

“Okay. We’ll go a little farther.”

“Gilson! Gilson,” Joslyn called.

“Gilson, this is Ben. Can you hear me?”

Retta tramped ahead of the other two. Lord, I guess I really don’t know what Your will is for Gilson. I don’t even know what it is for me. But I really like Gilson and she wants to see Oregon and she’s only twelve, so I’m praying she will.

“You see anything, Retta?” Ben asked.

Retta looked around. “Nothing but prairie grass. It just goes on and on.”

“I bet a man could raise a bunch of beef cows out here,” Ben commented. “I still don’t know why ever’one wants to go clean to Oregon. This might be good land out here.”

“My stepdaddy says there’s a war comin’ over the slaves, and he wants to be as far away from it as possible,” Joslyn said.

Retta continued to stare out into the darkness. “We just got through with the war down in Mexico. Papa said Christian charity would rule, and the Southerners would change after the next election.”

“He’s a dreamer,” Ben said. “I say even the Missouri Compromise is just a stall. The fact remains, the cows would surely like this country. Ain’t nothin’ to eat the grass out here except buffalo.”

“Gilson,” Retta shouted.

“Oh, my,” Joslyn cried, “Here we are, deep in the prairie. What if we get run over by ten thousand buffalo?”

“Gilson! It’s Retta and Ben and Joslyn. Where are you?”

“If there were lots of buffalo around, the ground would start rumbling,” Joslyn added.

Ben stomped on the ground. “Like this.”

“Very funny. When the buffalo charge, at least I’ll have a gun,” Joslyn commented.

“What good would that do you?” he laughed. “That little pistol wouldn’t stop a buffalo.”

“No, but I could shoot myself so I wouldn’t get trampled to death,” Joslyn declared. “I read in a penny-press novel about a girl who was prepared to do such a thing.”

“But she didn’t have to do it?”

“Her horse saved her.”

“Ben, you stay here,” Retta ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Retta glanced at Joslyn and grinned. No one in my life ever said ‘yes, ma’am’ to me before. “Come on, Joslyn, there are no buffalo out here.”

Joslyn trudged alongside Retta, her long, straight black hair partially dangling over her eyes. “There’s no Gilson either.”

They hiked another two hundred feet and paused. “Gilson? Can you hear me? It’s Retta and Joslyn. Please answer if you can.”

Both girls paused to listen.

“Do you hear anything?” Joslyn asked.

Retta held her candle above her head and leaned forward.

“No. Do you?”

Joslyn’s voice was shaky, high-pitched. “I thought I heard a bear snort.”