Chapter Twelve

The Buttermans’ land on Calder Creek, Iowa Territory, April 20, 1834

Penny finished Mrs. Calder’s shirt. Jonathan Butterman said to Mrs. Butterman, “Ella, you should ride Missy and Lap.” Missy and Lap were two of their wagon horses. He continued, “They need the exercise. You can ride Missy. Penny can ride Lap.”

“Alright, dear,” said Mrs. Butterman. She liked the idea. There weren’t really any roads to the Calders’ farm. There was just an Indian trail next to Calder Creek. It was still muddy from all the winter snow.

A few minutes later, Ella Butterman and Penny rode along Calder Creek. The horses were happy to get out, too. As they got to the Calders’ small stone house, they could hear shouting. “What in the world?” said Mrs. Butterman. Both women got off their horses and ran to the Calders’ front door. There at the door Penny could see Mr. Sweeney with his white hair and angry blue eyes. He had his gun. He was shouting at poor Mrs. Calder.

“My two men ran off! Bowe and Tommy!” shouted Mr. Sweeney. “Have you seen them? They had to come this way! Bowe?! Tommy?!”

Mrs. Calder, who spoke little English, just looked scared. She was tiny next to this wild shouting man.

“Stop it!” said Ella Butterman. “Stop right now!”

Mr. Sweeney turned around fast. His surprise was so great it was funny. Penny almost laughed. Then she remembered Mr. Sweeney was holding a gun.

“What do you want?” said Mr. Sweeney, his face red and his eyes blue and hard as ice.

“I think a better question is, what do you want?” said Mrs. Butterman in a soft voice. “You are on the Calders’ land. And you’re scaring Mrs. Calder. She speaks little English. She probably doesn’t know what you want.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Sweeney.

“Please put that gun down,” said Mrs. Butterman.

“Oh,” said Mr. Sweeney again. He lowered his long gun. “It’s just a hunting rifle,” he said.

“Mrs. Calder doesn’t know that,” said Penny, very quietly.

Mr. Sweeney looked hard at Penny. “I know you,” he said. “You came on my land.” He looked angry again. He said, “Don’t you talk. I don’t need to hear that talk from your kind.”

“Ah, you must be Mr. Sweeney,” said Mrs. Butterman coldly. “I heard about you. Now listen to me. Penny works for us. She’s not a slave. We don’t own her. And my husband and I are very lucky to have her help. So don’t you call her ‘your kind.’”

Mr. Sweeney just looked at Mrs. Butterman, then at Penny. He couldn’t say anything, he was so surprised.

“And her name is Penny Cooper,” said Mrs. Butterman. Penny took a very deep breath. She had never heard Mrs. Butterman use her full name before. But Penny Cooper was her name.

“Perhaps you should just leave, Mr. Sweeney,” continued Mrs. Butterman. “If you want to talk to Mrs. Calder about Bowe and Tommy, please wait until her husband is here.”

Mr. Sweeney walked away fast, back to his land up Calder Creek.