Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,17
be repaid.”
Elliot shrugged and took a swig of coffee. He looked down at his empty left sleeve and pulled the end of it across his lap before picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of boiled egg.
The simple gesture brought tears back to Margaret’s eyes. She looked away for a moment. When she could speak again without emotion clouding her voice, she said, “You gained a reputation for levelheadedness and compassion as an officer, son. Please don’t allow what you have read about the West—about Indians—to cloud your reason.”
Elliot set down his fork and ran a finger down a column of the newspaper that lay open on the table beside him. “Listen to this, Mother. It’s an eyewitness account of the recent release of a few white captives who were separated from the main group and kept all winter:
The poor creatures wept for joy at their escape. They had watched for our coming for many a weary day, with constant apprehensions of death at the hands of their savage captors, and had almost despaired of seeing us. The woe written in the faces of the half-starved and nearly naked women and children would have melted the hardest heart.
He continued, “This article speaks of wide, universal, and uncontrollable panic all across the southeastern corner of Minnesota. It says more than five hundred people were murdered, and it describes every mode of death that horrible ingenuity could possibly devise.” His eyes flickered with rage when he looked up at his mother. “When I think of my sister’s children, my own niece and nephew being subjected to that—” He shook his head.
“There are other stories, Elliot,” Margaret argued. “Stories of heroism and bravery—”
“Oh yes, I know. I know. The noble savages who protected the helpless whites.”
“Don’t be sarcastic!” Margaret snapped. “Simon wrote that one of them saved the children. At great risk to himself.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elliot said firmly. He took another swig of coffee before continuing. “I was too young when Ellen married to do anything about her foolish choices. I was away fighting for the Union when she died. Then I was in that godforsaken military hospital for an eternity. But I am well now, and I will not sit idly by while her children wander along the edge of the wilderness with their weakling father and his half-breed concubine.”
“Elliot!” Margaret’s voice trembled with anger. “Stop it. Simon may have had his weaknesses in the past, but he has done nothing to deserve such contempt. He is a good father and a sincere minister of the gospel. Genevieve LaCroix is a woman of impeccable character.”
Elliot smirked. “Excuse me if I prefer to believe the obvious about the self-righteous reverend’s true reasons for keeping Miss LaCroix close by.”
Margaret frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that after a conspicuously proper period of mourning, the reverend has conveniently found it to be God’s will that he warm his bed with a beautiful young woman.”
Margaret inhaled sharply. Two circles of bright red color appeared on her already rouged cheeks. Removing the napkin from her lap she slapped it down on the table and stood up. “That will do, Elliot. You may be thirty-five years old, but you are still my little boy, and I’ll thank you to keep such improper thoughts to yourself.”
Elliot mumbled a halfhearted apology.
Margaret sat back down. She pushed her plate away before saying, “You seem to think that I am a complete idiot, swayed by romantic notions about noble savages and superhuman missionaries. I’m not a fool. I had months to observe both these people. And I’m telling you that your evaluation of them is wrong.” She took a deep breath and leaned forward.
Elliot got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. Leaning against the sideboard he said, “You are happy, then, for the reverend to be hauling Aaron and Meg off to Dakota Territory to be raised in the wilds? You think that is a proper fate for your grandchildren?”
Margaret hesitated. She shook her head. “I’ve never been happy about Aaron and Meg being so far away. That’s why I prevailed upon Simon to send them to me for their higher education.”
Elliot nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Our reasons may differ, but in the end we agree on what must be done. Aaron must certainly be ready for more schooling than they can provide in Dakota. And I can probably convince Meg to come at least for a visit.” He walked to the end of the table and put