Forward, Without Fear
By Dorothy Clapp Robinson
Chapter Six
Synopsis: “Watch your words,” Matt Lewis had cautioned the girls as two officers came into camp. They were hunting Niels. They accused him of stealing a sack of food. Niels hearing them from the side of Johanna’s sick bed slipped away. Ann Kristin thinking to save both him and the sick girl confesses to taking the food. Instead of freeing Niels the officers decided to take both of them, and started to hunt for the “big Swede.” They were saved by Jake who pretended he had also been hunting Niels. He told the officers where to go to find him. After they had gone, the girls persuaded Jake to stay and eat with them. Patty Lou transferred her anger at him to Ann Kristin, demanding to know just where she got so much food. Ann refused to tell, then Helga discovered Ann’s ring was missing. That broke down the resentment Patty Lou had always felt toward Ann Kristin. So she told them that Tom Bedloe had taken their money. He had also taken her money — claiming to have given it to Elder Lewis. The two men were just starting out to find Bedloe when Helga came running for help. Johanna was dying.
The Camp of Israel was a long way from the banks of the Mississippi. A long way in time, in wearied footsteps, and in heartaches over what had been left behind. In the same crowded cemetery Johanna and Edward Lewis lay sleeping side by side. Because she had so loved the city, which to her had meant Zion, Niels and Matt had taken Johanna there, where her bones could rest in the shadow of the temple. A week later they had placed Edward Lewis beside her. Still later, they had begun the series of moves that had, two years later, placed them on the plains of Iowa not far from Winter Quarters. Twice Jake had been able to move their few belongings, and twice Matilda Lewis had put them in her own overloaded wagon.
Ann Kristin was thinking of all this and much more as she walked toward her home. It was late afternoon and hot, but the heat was dry. Not sticky as it had been along the river. Ted Lewis, walking beside her, sighed.
“You should not have come with me, Ted,” Ann Kristin told him. “It is too much walking.”
“Pooh. I can walk as far as any girl.” Then he sighed again. “I wish I was a sheep herder. That was a big band of sheep. I bet there was a million sheep in it.”
“I am afraid not quite so many. If there had been a million brambles, there would have been more wool.”
“Have we got enough wool to make Anna a coat?” he asked.
“Well,” Ann Kristin looked at the mat of dirty wool in her apron, “there is enough for a pair of stockings, perhaps. Tomorrow I shall follow the herd again. Perhaps then we will have enough for a coat.”
“You can’t go out alone,” Ted warned. “The Injuns might see you.”
“But there will be more wool farther out. There were too many women following the herd today.”
“I am going to marry Anna when I grow up. I like girls with yellow hair.”
“That will be a long time. Anna is only two.”
“Oh, not so long,” Ted answered wisely. “I’m not going to be an old bachelor like Matt. He says he has to support ma, but she says that is an excuse. She says he is in love with someone, and is too stubborn to know it. Anyway, Becky didn’t wait for him. She got married.
“Was he in love with Becky?”
“Gosh, yes. He walked her to all the meetings and dances. Anyway, I have to go west before I get married or maybe I won’t. I might be a freighter like Jake and Matt or even a scout like Jim Bridger.”
“Does your mother say whom he is in love with?” Ann Kristin asked, hesitantly.
“Who is in love?” Ted demanded.
“I do not know. You said your mother—.”
“Ma don’t care if I am in love with Anna. She says it is quite safe. Golly,” he cried suddenly, “look at the dust. It’s a wagon train. They will have the mail. Maybe Patty Lou will get her letter.”
“Perhaps.” Kristin wasn’t sure she wanted patty Lou to receive her letter. That would mean she would leave them. “Jake might be with this train.”
“It is a long one. let’s run,” Ted urged.
Ann Kristin shook her head. “You run, Ted. Probably if you cut across you can meet it.”
The boy dashed away, his bare feet skimming over the dry earth. It was incredible after all the walking he had done. she watched closely. She could tell by the dust that it was a long train. Probably on its way to Winter Quarters, or perhaps even to Fort Laramie or Fort Bridger. It would bring mail and very likely more saints. It would lay over here in camp all night. Her pulse quickened. There would be letters and news of the saints scattered along the trail. There would be no news for her, unless, she held the thought a moment, unless Tom should write to her.
The evening of Johanna’s death, Jake and Matt had visited the trader, Wilkins. The visit had given them more satisfaction than information, for Wilkins, seeing them in time, had bolted is door and fled, thereby establishing his guilt. Bedloe they had never found. Nor had he ever returned to Ann Kristin for his answer. The humiliation of it burned deep into her soul; but that was only one of many things that had left its mark.
Of all the scars there was none as deep as that caused by the death of Edward Lewis, and none that had brought with it such deep humility. They had chosen to leave Norway; the death of her parents had not been preventable. Poverty she was learning to endure, and camping would, in some happy day, be a thing of the past; yet she would never be able to forget what she had done to Edward Lewis. To make it harder to bear, almost his last words had been to her. “Tell Kristin not to blame herself. I am glad to go. I am ready to meet my Maker.”
Even Mrs. Lewis had said, “Pa had done a good work and his time had come. Let’s honor him by working for the future, not the past. There is too much to do to spend time in grieving or regretting.”
Yet, her eyes told Ann Kristin she would always grieve; and the girl wondered again at the depth of her love and understanding, her capacity for forgiveness. Love of a gospel that would foster such growth grew in Ann Kristin, and dissolved the fibers of her uncertainty and self-concern. When the moves came, they clung to Mrs. Lewis. Her family accepted their presence as one more feature of the unnatural life they were leading. In the two years Matt had been with his mother only twice, briefly, and both times had avoided Ann Kristin.
Circling the camp, Ann Kristin approached her home. It was a sod shanty the girls had erected themselves. It was the best home they’d had for two years. It would keep them warm when winter came, if they were still here. Here, as at Camp Lewis, much of their living was done outside.
Helga and Patty Lou were sitting before their shanty waiting for Kristin. Patty Lou was holding a skein of yarn over her wrists, while Helga wound it into a ball. Little Anna was toddling between the two trying to reach the thread. She was small boned like Johanna, and with Johanna’s flaxen hair, but her eyes and features were much more like Niels’. They all adored her, but to Helga she was the sum total of life. She was all the lovely things Helga had lived and loved, and still hoped for.
“This is all the yarn I have,” Helga sighed with regret, “and I haven’t any more wool.”
“You-all— ,” Patty Lou corrected herself, quickly, “you use more wool than any dozen women in camp. Why don’t Kristin come?
It will be evening directly, and no sign of her.”
Helga took Anna, protesting loudly, on her lap and began undressing her. “She must have stopped to visit someone. No. No,” as the baby tried to push off her lap, “come, Helga will sing you a song.” She rocked back and forth as she sang softly, “Sof du min lilla, min alskling, ar du jom — ”
“Do you reckon she is fretting over Tom Bedloe?” Patty Lou interrupted. “She’s powerful dreamy lately. She doesn’t sing any more.”
“Ann Kristin has too much sense to be unhappy over a man like Tom Bedloe.” Helga spoke shortly, “I think it is something else.”
“Do you reckon she is in love? That Bill Hooper comes here plenty often. I see him watching her when he thinks no one is looking. Do you reckon she loves him?”
“It is quite possible. Girls her age are usually in love, if they aren’t married. I thought Bill came here to see you.”
“I thought so, too, at first.” Patty Lou sighed. “I won’t do any complaining about it but it does seem mighty queer. Every man that comes to see me falls in love with her. I reckon I got to get used to bearing burdens.” She changed the subject abruptly. “Do you reckon that wagon train will ever get here?”
“It should be here by tomorrow at the latest. That is what the scout said.”
“That no-account Jake Nickols had better be here. We are getting mighty low on food.”
Helga looked up from the baby. “Patty, how can you continue to take food from Jake when you don’t love him?” When she found Patty Lou did not intend to answer, she continued. “He sent word he would be here, and he has never failed to keep his word, except when he swore to catch Tom Bedloe; but he’ll do that, eventually/’
“S-sh. Here comes Kristie.”
Helga looked around. Anna gave a squeal of delight and tried to wiggle out of Helga’s arms. Kristin stooped to kiss her.
“I can’t take you now, Alskling, my lap is full.”
“What have you got?” Patty Lou asked.
For answer Ann Kristin opened her apron and showed them. “We heard that a band of sheep was passing so I dismissed school and followed them. All the wool nearby had been gathered, so I had to go a long way. I am going again in the morning, while it is cool. You want to go with me, Patty?”
“Not me. If it is so far the other women haven’t already picked it, I’d never make it.”
“You are lazy— oh, I forgot. A wagon train is coming into Camp. The mail might be here already.”
“Sure-enough?”
“Sure-enough.”
In an instant, Patty Lou was up and away. Ann Kristin went inside. After washing, she put on a clean apron.
Your supper is on the table,” Helga called. “There are some string beans. Sister Andrews brought them to pay for Danny’s schooling. What do you think she said?”
Ann Kristin waited to answer. She put a slice of bread on the plate of beans. Going outside, she sat on the box where Patty Lou had been.
“What did she say?” she asked. Breaking a crust from the bread, she handed it to Anna.
“She said how thankful she was to be in the same camp with a great lady like you, so her little crippled Danny could learn to read and write. It is we who are blessed. If you could not get pupils we would starve.”
Ann Kristin smiled at her sister’s extravagant statement. “You knit and Niels sends flour, not to mention Jake’s occasional contributions. I wish I needn’t charge. I could weep when I see what sacrifices parents make that their children may have a little learning.”
“Most parents are like Sister Andrews. What makes you so restless? Are you tired?”
“A little.” Then she asked quickly, “Do you know what day this is?”
“July l0, 1846. Four years to the day since we sailed from Norway. That was a long time ago. Almost another world.”
“Quite another world. Four years ago we were ‘those proud Mortensen girls.’ We had no thought of anything but marrying well and settling down to a well-ordered existence in the parish where generations of Mortensens had lived and died. Then—,” She stopped and Helga picked up the thought.
“Then father heard the gospel, and here we are. Camp of Israel, Indian Lands, U.S.A.”
“Since we never get mail, no one is interested in our address. Where will we be next?”
Helga’s ears caught the threatened sob in her sister’s voice. She saw that Ann Kristin was studying her hand. She could use it now, but it would never look normal again. She chuckled. “Farther west. And we were so sure our troubles would be over when we reached Nauvoo.” She got up and went inside to put Anna in her cradle. Coming back, she took up her knitting. She suggested that Ann Kristin do the same; but Kristin was in no mood for knitting.
“Do you suppose we shall ever be married and have homes of our own? I mean real homes with flowers and gardens and pastures and cattle? And milk to drink once more?”
“I doubt it.” Helga’s practical mind saw only the present. “Even if we should go west to the Rocky Mountains or into Oregon, I should think the Indians would keep us living in forts. Would you mind?”
“Mind.” Ann Kristin turned the word about. “Mind? I ache to get settled. Every girl wants a home and a family. What is there— but I am glad I am here and very thankful. Our lives in Loftshammar were stale and without purpose, in comparison.”
“Hmm-m. Plenty of purpose I would say. We worked and ate and lived in houses, and went to school and directed the work of the servants—.”
“Helga,” Kristin interrupted, “do you remember the stories mother used to tell us when we were children? I loved most the stories of the early Christians. Because they were true to their faith they changed the history of mankind. Do you suppose— do you think our suffering will be remembered even in a small way? Look what our people are doing. Sister Lewis for instance. She is a cultured, refined woman. She has lost every material possession except what can be hauled in one wagon. It is seven years since she left her home. She has lost her husband.”
“Now, Kristie, let’s not go into that again.”
“She has lost everything, yet she acts as if she had the riches of the world at her feet. Even under these primitive conditions she never lowers her standards. Surely such faith and devotion will—.”
“You are such a dreamer.”
“But it can’t be wasted effort, Helga, nor insignificant. It means more than our eyes can see or our understanding grasp. Something great and powerful will come from it.”
“I am not interested in history. What I want is a home right now, and a family and a place where we can worship in peace.”
“Do you know what Sister Lewis told me? Because we are not sure of the future, we must face it with full confidence. We must go forward, without fear. We must hold and appreciate each little moment of happiness that comes our way. But you needn’t worry. You will have Niels and Anna.”
Helga did not answer for a moment. When she looked at her sister, her eyes were troubled. “I could not endure having him take Anna away from me, but he has never spoken of marriage. In a year and a half he has written once.”
“But he has sent messages and supplies by Jake. Niels was ever a man of few words. You know, Min Alskling, in Norway you would not have looked at him except as you would look on any laborer, but we are not in Norway. When you are gone, I will be alone.”
Helga threw up her hands. “Who could be alone in this camp?”
“Many people are alone, even in a crowd.”
“I understand what you mean. At home, Kristie, you had your pick of the boys. Why do you refuse the attentions of the young men here? Are you grieving for Thomas Bedloe?
Ann Kristin’s eyes had been turning restlessly to the prairie. The setting sun had brushed it with a bright varnish. Her glance came back suddenly to meet her sister’s. ‘It still hurts. I suppose that is pride.” She got up and moved about. “How could he have been so charming and yet so deceitful? I always ask myself that when I walk with Bill Hooper or Phil Westover. Tom seemed as sincere as they. Do you think there could have been a mistake?”
“No. Matt is not the kind to jump to hasty conclusions. We know for certain Tom did not give Patty Lou’s money to Elder Lewis.”
Dusk was settling over the prairie. Shadows lengthened, and mingled into a dusky curtain. Patty Lou came dancing back in a way that caught at Ann Kristin’s heart. It was so long since Patty had danced.
“See what I have. My letter form papa.”
“Did the wagon train get in?”
“Only the mail.” Unexpectedly she dropped to the ground and began to cry. “Just think. My first letter in two years. He is a good writer. See!” Pride dried her tears. “And he sent me this. What is it?
She passed a slip of heavy green paper to them. Kristin scrutinized it.
“Patty. It is money. You must take it to a bank. We had similar ones in our box.”
Patty Lou snatched it. She turned it over and over. “I’ve never heard tell of such money.”
Kristin explained. Patty’s eyes widened with delight. “Jake can take it to Nauvoo on his next trip. It is going to be lonesome without you, Patty Lou.”
“Without me? Why should I go clean to Nauvoo? Jake can get my things for me.”
“It will save time. You will have to go there anyway on your way back to Alabama.”
“Who said anything about going back to Alabama?”
“Patty Lou Turner. Didn’t you tell your father you would go home if he sent the money?”
“I did not. I said I was tired of living like a woodchuck. I’m sorry if he misunderstood. This money will buy a wagon. Maybe Niels and Jake can get us some oxen. then we can go on being uncomfortable for another right smart spell.”
Ann Kristin did not know whether to kiss the girl or shake her. “You can’t do it. It would not e honest.”
“Why? he’s my very own papa, isn’t he? If he don’t know me by now, it’s a plumb shame.”
the girls laughed. That was so like patty Lou. If she actually made a promise nothing could swerve her from it, but no one else was so adept at evasion. She turned their logic aside so cleverly they were left gasping. Helga’s fine sense of honor was outraged.
“A fine saint you are.”
Patty Lou began to cry again, deep, dry sobs that shook her slender body. Kristin was provoked at Helga for being so harsh.
“Don’t cry, dear,” she said softly.
“Don’t you think I want to go home? Do you think it is easy to stay here? I love my family.”
Ann Kristin looked at Helga, and then they were crying, finding release for the homesickness and despair they had lived with and denied for so long. Their tears did what their argument had failed to do. patty Lou wiped her eyes on her apron. Holding up the slip of paper, she kissed it dramatically.
“Goodbye—.” She stopped short. The creaking of wheels brought them to their feet. Jake was driving into their dooryard. Behind him were three other wagons. patty Lou looked at the driver in the first and her face paled. Jake jumped to the ground. The hand she held out to him was trembling violently.
“Jake–Jake–is it–?”
“Yes, honey. It’s them.”
(To be continued)