Riddle of the Prairie Bride Read online

  “Oh, no, it looks very nice,” Caroline said. “Everything is really quite … quite perfect.” She smiled faintly, then turned and left the room.

  Ida Kate stared after her, troubled, as a thought flickered in her mind before she hurriedly extinguished it: Had Caroline really been cleaning—or had she been snooping?

  CHAPTER 4

  A KILLING AT CASTLE ROCK

  The next day was Saturday. Papa suggested that as a special treat they hurry with the morning chores, then pack a picnic lunch and drive out to Castle Rock. “You simply must see the Rock,” he told Caroline over a breakfast of hotcakes and sweet butter.

  Castle Rock was a tremendous outcropping of rock some distance from Hays City, towering up over the prairie—the tallest point for miles around. It rose like a huge stone fortress, and whenever Ida Kate approached it, she felt as if she were arriving at King Arthur’s ancient castle, with all the knights of the Round Table and their ladies waiting for her inside, and Merlin the Magician, too, casting secret spells.

  Since Mama died there hadn’t been any picnics at all, at least not with Papa. Ida Kate had joined the Ruppenthals for outings on more than one occasion, but the magic wasn’t there anymore.

  A picnic today with Caroline and Hanky would be fun, she decided. And she helped Caroline prepare the lunch they would take. They packed a loaf of warm bread, ham sliced for sandwiches, a tub of fresh butter, fresh eggs gathered and boiled just that morning, a brick of cheese, and, to top it all off, a jam cake with raisins that Caroline had baked the day before.

  It certainly seemed things were going more smoothly now that Caroline was finally here. Already Ida Kate felt more rested than she used to. She didn’t have to wake as early; she didn’t have to spend as much time on housework. Caroline had things well in hand. Pretty good going, Ida Kate thought appreciatively, for a once-pampered southern belle!

  She darted an affectionate look at Caroline as Papa helped his mail-order bride up onto the high seat of the wagon. He lifted Hanky into the back with Ida Kate, and the two of them settled into a nest of old horse blankets. Papa stowed his Winchester rifle, which usually hung over the front door, safely beneath the buckboard seat. Last of all he lifted the picnic hamper into the back of the wagon. “Guard this with your very lives,” he told the children solemnly. Hanky laughed and reached up to pull Papa’s beard, and Ida Kate giggled.

  “We will fend off all invaders, my liege,” she vowed, lifting her arm as if she were wielding an imaginary sword.

  They left Old Hickory behind to guard the farm and set off down the rutted track across the prairie toward Hays City. Then they took the fork that led across the miles to Castle Rock. The day was fine and sunny, and the chirps and twitters of birds in the prairie grasses blended in a fine symphony of sound as the wagon passed by. After a while Caroline started singing along with the birds. Her voice was a pleasure to hear, and it blew with the wind back to Ida Kate and Hanky.

  Hear that, Mama? Isn’t that the loveliest music you ever did hear? Ida Kate felt her mama’s answer blow through her: Mama was happy about Caroline, happy that Ida Kate had someone to help her in the house now, and happy that Papa wasn’t lonely anymore.

  Hanky pressed against Ida Kate’s side as they traveled. He chuckled and patted his hands together and tried to open the picnic basket. She lifted the lid and tore off a small hunk of bread for him. She liked this baby. She wished he could talk, though. Babies would probably have a lot to say, she reflected, if only they knew the words. What adventures had Hanky already had in his young life? What had it been like living in a factory town? What had he seen on his train journey across the country?

  “You’ll tell me someday,” she murmured against his silky red curls.

  “Mama!” he chortled. It seemed to be his only word.

  Finally they arrived at Castle Rock. Caroline looked duly impressed. “Amazing,” she said. “You almost expect to see a moat and turrets and flags waving, don’t you?”

  “Exactly,” said Papa, swinging her down from the wagon. “It’s our very own local palace—chief residence of His Majesty, the King of Kansas.”

  “And his queen, I hope?” asked Caroline, slanting a teasing glance up at him.

  “And his queen, of course,” he said, smiling. “The story wouldn’t be complete without the queen.” He paused and raised a hand to brush back a lock of golden brown hair that had escaped from Caroline’s bonnet. “No story would be.”

  Ida Kate hugged Hanky. Things were working out so well for all of them!

  They clambered on the rocks, Papa carrying the baby on his shoulders. They explored all around Castle Rock. No other visitors were there that morning, and Ida Kate played that she was Merlin. She commanded Hanky to lift King Arthur’s magical sword from the stone. Instead, he picked up a pebble and toddled over to hand it to her. “Yes!” she cried, bowing low. “You have done it! You have proved yourself to be the true king. Camelot shall be yours!” Hanky stared up at her, eyes wide. Caroline and Papa—as queen and king—bowed to him.

  Still laughing, they set out their royal feast on the cloth that Caroline spread across the ground. They devoured everything, leaving only crumbs from the jam cake for the prairie dogs that poked their heads up from their holes and peeked out at them. When the sun had moved past midday and Hanky was drooping over his cup of milk, Papa said it was time to return home. The animals were waiting, and there were still chores to be done.

  Ida Kate was pleased the picnic had lasted so long. Most often since Mama died, Papa just buried himself in work, never stopping long enough for fun. Another welcome change now that Caroline was here.

  Caroline and Papa folded the picnic cloth. “Please go get the baby now, Ida Kate,” said Papa, and she set off for Hanky, who, too tired to toddle, had crawled over to a nearby outcropping of rock and was sitting there, sifting little stones through his fingers. Ida Kate reached down to fetch him—then stopped in alarm.

  She stood statue-still. She didn’t dare to breathe. There—right there, just inches from Hanky—was a large, coiled rattlesnake.

  The rattlesnake’s tail twitched; Ida Kate heard the warning, the ominous rattle that meant the snake was ready to strike. “Papa …?” Her voice was only the merest breath of a whisper, but Papa, coming up right behind her, was quick. His foot, covered with a thick leather boot, darted out and caught the snake just behind the head, pinning it down hard on the ground. Fast as lightning, Ida Kate snatched Hanky into her arms and backed away. The snake whipped its body from side to side, thrashing its tail wildly.

  “Caroline!” bellowed Papa. “Quick, fetch me the rifle—no, the axe! From the wagon!”

  Ida Kate was holding Hanky so tightly he started to howl. She felt like screaming herself, but she held her breath instead. The snake lashed back and forth, trying to strike her papa. Rattlesnake bites were fatal; many a Kansas settler died of snakebite. The snake had to be killed, and Papa knew the surest way to do it.

  “The axe!” he shouted. “Hurry!”

  And then there came Caroline, running toward him from the wagon. Papa, twisting out of the way of the thrashing snake, grabbed for the axe—“Quick, woman, give it here!”—but Caroline raised it over her head and slammed it down right next to Papa’s boot, slicing clear through the snake’s body and severing the head neatly with a single blow.

  Papa stared at her in astonishment. He waited for the snake’s thrashing to stop. When it did, he lifted his foot and stepped back. “Whoa!” he said. He shook his head at her in wonder. “Couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

  Ida Kate was equally impressed. Amazing!

  Caroline handed Papa the axe. She gathered Hanky into her arms. “That varmint can’t hurt you now,” she said.

  Ida Kate saw the admiration in Papa’s eyes as he looked at his mail-order bride. “No simpering southern belles around here, no sir!”

  Caroline tossed her head and hugged Hanky. “Well, it was nothing. You think we don’t hav
e snakes down in South Carolina?”

  They all laughed and headed for the wagon. Then Ida Kate stopped. “Wait—North Carolina, wasn’t it, Caroline? Not South—North!”

  Caroline stopped laughing. A sudden blush stained her cheeks. “North Carolina, of course,” she said firmly. “That’s what I said.”

  CHAPTER 5

  STORM CLOUDS

  On Sunday mornings Ida Kate would rise even earlier than usual to collect the eggs and milk the cow. While Papa tended to the pigs and harnessed the horses to the wagon, Ida Kate would hurriedly prepare a basket to take along to church for the potluck luncheon afterward—perhaps baked beans she’d made the night before, or a plate of cornbread. Then Papa and Ida Kate would wash and dress in their best clothes, and they’d set off, eating a breakfast of bread and cheese as they rode across the prairie to church.

  This first Sunday with their special guest was different. Caroline was up even earlier than Ida Kate, gathering the eggs and milking Bessie and Bonnie, and unpacking the rest of the belongings from her trunk and reticule. A hot breakfast was already cooked and waiting on the table when Ida Kate awoke—a fine meal of bacon and eggs and fried bread. When Papa came in from the barn, they all ate together. Ida Kate’s braids were fixed more neatly than usual and tied back with a perky bow at the nape of her neck, thanks to Caroline’s attentions. And Hanky was dressed in clean clothes, his red curls damp and shining.

  They all climbed into the wagon and set off. Caroline wore her blue serge traveling suit again, and the impractical little hat. She held the food she had prepared for the luncheon: a large bowl of potato salad made with cooked egg, crumbled bacon, onions, and cream. She looked quite elegant sitting next to Papa on the high buckboard seat, and Ida Kate felt a little thrill of pride in her pretty, accomplished, soon-to-be stepmother.

  Ida Kate sat with Hanky in the back of the wagon as they had the day before, but this time they did not cuddle together in the nest of blankets. She sat on a wooden crate, with Hanky on her lap, trying to keep both of their outfits neat as the wagon jolted along the rutted path.

  “How far is the church?” asked Caroline.

  “All the way back into town,” Papa replied. “We’re holding services in the courthouse until our new Presbyterian church is finished. A good stone building. It’ll be ready for us sometime next year, I expect.”

  Some church groups held services at the fort. The Catholic settlers had erected a church last year. New Russian immigrants had plans for an Orthodox church, and the Lutherans hoped to start building their own soon as well. There’s room enough on the prairie for everybody’s churches to be built, thought Ida Kate as Papa tethered the horses outside the courthouse.

  Inside they found seats together near the back, in case Hanky couldn’t sit still and needed to be taken outside. There were more people than usual today, Ida Kate noticed. Those sitting on the front benches turned to look back at her family as they got settled. Everybody knew that Henry Clay Deming had sent east for a bride. Everybody wanted to see her. The pianist struck some dramatic chords, and the congregation stood to sing the opening hymn.

  The pastor, Rupert Smiley, welcomed everyone. Ida Kate always had to hide a smile when she saw him because he was so completely unlike his name. He was tall and thin and always wore black suits, and he never, ever smiled. Ida Kate looked around as she listened to the sermon. William Ruppenthal, Martha’s father, sat with his nine-year-old twin sons on the other side of the courthouse. The boys, Jimmy and Johnny, waved to Ida Kate. But where were Martha and her stepmother and the little ones?

  Miss Butler was not at the church service this morning either. But Miss Butler’s father and mother, the plump and comfortable elderly couple who owned the general store, were sitting across the aisle. They nodded over at the Demings. Children Ida Kate knew from school sat with their families. There were the Granger children, and the Paulsen boys, and little Maisie Groninger. Ida Kate would be seeing all of them at school the very next day—and she couldn’t wait!

  Little Hanky sat on Caroline’s lap and played with Papa’s pocket watch. He was really being very good, Ida Kate thought. Better than some of the other babies, who were sniveling or fussing.

  Pastor Smiley was speaking about the need to be hospitable to strangers, to be charitable and open, and to invite others in—“for you do not know,” he preached, “when you are entertaining angels unaware.” All very well for him to say, thought Ida Kate wryly. The good pastor was notorious for keeping to himself. He never entertained, as far as she knew.

  I’d know an angel if ever I saw one, wouldn’t I, Mama?

  “Jesus came and they did not know him,” Pastor Smiley intoned. “So take heed. Keep watch … for you know not when the master of the house will come!” A gust of wind rattled the window of the courthouse as if in emphasis.

  After the sermon Ida Kate moved outdoors with the others, behind the courthouse where the luncheon tables were set up. The tables were covered with white cloths and held huge quantities of food brought by the churchgoers. The tablecloths flapped in the breeze. Ida Kate got in line and took a sturdy white plate from the stack of china. She loaded her plate with a piece of chicken, some fresh bread, and Caroline’s potato salad. Their mail-order bride had been entirely too modest, thought Ida Kate as she sat down at one of the long tables and took her first bite of creamy potato salad. It was delicious! Imagine telling us she’d never really learned to cook! Ida Kate shook her head. What utter nonsense.

  People were crowding around Papa and Caroline now, wanting to be introduced. Ida Kate offered to take Hanky and feed him, and Caroline handed him over gratefully. Ida Kate and Hanky sat with Maisie Groninger and some of the other children from school, and Ida Kate fed Hanky bites of potato salad and chicken. She enjoyed showing off her almost-brother, and Hanky was most entertaining, putting his slice of bread on his head like a hat. They all chattered and laughed while the adults talked at the other tables. Ida Kate could hear Caroline’s pleasant southern drawl mingling with the other voices. When Ida Kate finished her meal, she carried Hanky over to join Papa and Caroline.

  “Yes, indeedy,” Mr. Butler was saying as Ida Kate sat down on the bench next to Papa, “Artemia has been under the weather. I think it’s this sudden warm spell we’re having.”

  “I’m sorry Miss Butler is ill,” Ida Kate spoke up politely. “I’m very eager to return to school tomorrow. Do you think she will be well enough to teach?”

  The elderly shopkeeper cocked an eyebrow at Ida Kate. “I think so. She is very dedicated. Her mother and I prevailed upon her to rest today, but I expect she’ll be up and ready for her duties tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure that she is pleased you are finally able to return, my dear,” added Mrs. Butler kindly.

  “Well, it’s thanks to Caroline,” said Ida Kate. She smiled across the table at her soon-to-be stepmother. “And I shall save her a front-row seat at our school recital.”

  “And what will you be reciting?” asked Caroline.

  “An essay I started ages ago on Henry Clay, the famous abolitionist. I’ll finally have a chance to finish and memorize it, now that you’re here.”

  Papa refilled everyone’s glasses of cider from the big pitcher and poured Ida Kate a glass, too. “I was named for old Henry Clay,” he told the others. “As was my father. It was my father’s greatest sadness that I did not have a son to pass the name along to.”

  Caroline reached over and tickled Hanky under his chin. “Maybe someday this fellow will want to change his name from Henry Claude to Henry Clay,” she said, “even though he was named for his father.”

  Claude? A sudden chill pounced across Ida Kate’s shoulders. Claude Fairchild?

  “My father was also a staunch abolitionist,” Mrs. Butler was saying now. “And a supporter of Abraham Lincoln. I think it was the most tragic moment of my father’s life when he heard that President Lincoln had been shot. He revered the man—felt he was truly one of the greats. No president has
measured up since.”

  “That’s what my father said, too,” Caroline said eagerly. “He even saw Lincoln in person once—and was most favorably impressed.”

  “Now where did your father meet the president?” asked Mrs. Butler, leaning across the table toward Caroline. “My own father would have given his eyeteeth to have met the man!”

  “It wasn’t a personal meeting,” Caroline told her. “But the president spoke at an abolitionist rally in New York, and my father and brother were there. They never forgot how impressive he looked, and how very tall …”

  Caroline’s voice trailed off as she caught Ida Kate staring at her in openmouthed surprise. And when she spoke again, her southern accent seemed more pronounced than before. “That was a long time ago, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Mrs. Butler, a little frown appearing on her already-lined forehead. “But I am surprised to hear your father was an abolitionist! That must have been exceedingly unusual for a southern plantation owner.”

  “Indeed, it would have been!” her husband chimed in. “Tell us about your family, Mrs. Fairchild. Were they not slave owners?”

  Caroline shifted uncomfortably. “Well … yes, they were,” she admitted.

  Then she stood up quickly and reached across the table to lift Hanky out of Papa’s arms. “I think we’ll have to be heading home now,” she said. “The wind is rising, and Hanky is due for a nap.”

  “Oh, the other mothers with little ones just put their babies down to sleep in the courthouse,” Mrs. Groninger informed her. “Tucked up snug on a bench.”

  But Caroline was shaking her head. “No, I think this little fellow has had so much upheaval lately, what with all the train travel and the new surroundings, he’ll do better to sleep in one place for a while.” Caroline’s voice was smooth, but Ida Kate saw her eyes darting nervously. “Ready, Mr. Deming? Ready, Ida Kate?” She moved away from the table, carrying the baby, without waiting for their answer.