Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,19
looked at Simon uncertainly.
Simon cleared his throat. “The Pottses saw my notice in the Dayton newspaper. Apparently Mrs. Potts’s sister and her husband were settled somewhere across the river from one of the agencies. They had a child—a girl. Mr. and Mrs. Potts are hoping—”
Potts leaned forward, tilting his head and inspecting Hope carefully. He looked back at the woman seated next to him. “That’s her, ain’t it, Ma?” he said, grinning and nodding. “The spittin’ image of your own sister, ain’t she?” Potts reached out to touch the baby’s cheek.
Hope frowned at him and leaned away. “No!” She clutched Gen’s shoulder tightly and hid her face against Gen’s neck.
Gen stared at the Pottses and then at Simon. She swallowed hard. “I was—I was j-just putting Hope down for a nap.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Potts crooned, “don’t take her away so fast. Can’t we jus’ hold her for a minute?” She held out her hands, imploring.
Gen looked at Simon. When he nodded encouragement, she struggled to unleash Hope’s death grip on her dress. “It’s all right, Hope. Say hello.” In spite of Hope’s protests, Gen handed the child over to Sally. Hope strained to get away, reaching for Gen and screeching, “Ma! Ma!”
Finally, Mrs. Potts set Hope down on the floor. Immediately, the baby crawled to Gen and pulled herself up, demanding to be held.
“It’ll take her a while to know us, I ’spect,” Harlan said. He shook his head. “We hardly slept these past nine months, worryin’ over our own kin.” He turned to Gen. “You the one that saved Charlotte Marie?”
Gen shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Simon interrupted her. “Actually it was a Dakota Indian named Two Stars. He stole a canoe and took Genevieve and my children out of the captives’ camp under cover of darkness. They traveled downriver toward Fort Ridgely by night and hid during the day. One morning, they found they had spent the night just below a deserted cabin. It was growing colder, and Two Stars went up to the cabin hoping to find some blankets. He found the man dead out by the barn. The woman was in the house, curled around her child. She’d been scalped. Of course Two Stars thought the child was dead, too. But Hope was only asleep.” He continued, “Two Stars and Genevieve buried the couple beside their house. They couldn’t find anything that identified the family.” Simon asked abruptly, “Do you have children, Mr. Potts?”
“Sally and me ain’t been blessed.”
“Where do you work?”
“Wherever,” Potts said. He began to twist his hat in his hands. “Unloading at the railway station. Hauling for one or t’ other.” He swallowed hard. “They’s plenty of jobs about, what with all the young fools goin’ off to fight.”
“It has been a terrible time for our country,” Simon said carefully. “My late wife’s brother lost a hand and part of his arm at Antietam.”
Potts reacted quickly. “Well, the fact is I woulda volunteered by now, if it weren’t for my Sally here bein’ so poorly” He rushed to add, “But then I wouldn’t have been at home to read your notice, Reveran’.”
Simon nodded. “You know, Mr. Potts, my son and I have made more than one trip back to the cabin looking for the surveyor’s stakes. We never did find them. We advertised in the Dayton newspaper based on a neighboring tract of land.” Simon paused. “It’s not uncommon for settlers to come in groups. I hoped that might be the case with this situation. I’ve been writing letters to the Dayton newspaper for months. I had just decided we could give up the search in good conscience—we’d done all we could to locate Hope’s relatives. It’s a wonder—since you were so worried about your wife’s family—it’s a wonder you didn’t see my notice before now.”
Potts cleared his throat. “Well, now. Fact is I don’t read the newspaper all that often.”
“Now Harlan,” Mrs. Potts blurted out, nudging him. “You know you cain’t read a-tall.” When her husband glared at her, Mrs. Potts blushed and averted her eyes.
Harlan cleared his throat. “Sally and me was upriver all winter with my kin. We got back t’ Dayton last month and I heard someone talkin’ about all the orphans in Minnesota. Then I heard ’em talkin’ ’bout your notice,” he said quickly. “And I rushed right down to the newspaper office to have them read it to me.”
Simon nodded. He stood up abruptly. “Why don’t you see to Hope’s nap, Genevieve? And