Shelter In Place

Our company of horses passed a tall wood sign planted with iron poles. Fencing stretched north and west far as the eye could see. Cattle grazed on the rifts to rolling hills of lush green grass and golden meadows. Despite the onslaught of Indian attacks, the McCord ranch was like a fortress. The sense of dread I had dissolved as the two-story house appeared on a bluff overlooking the town.

I had managed to stay clear of the town folk below and had always sent for supplies. I had no hankering to walk the streets where my man's blood was spilled. As I dug my chin into Jake's back on the horse, I looked that way with a heavy, knotted heart, knowing one day I'd have to depend on the town for supplies if I were to rebuild the cabin and work the land.

We must have got bigger than ants on a hill when Lydia McCord lit off the porch, drawing her dress to her knees until she made a beeline for me in a pitched run. I wanted to leap off the back of Jake's horse and hug her, but I had my child to pass off, tucked between us.

Lydia came alongside with glassy blue-eyed tears. "You...okay, Jane?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Lydia sucked wind between words. "I...I we...we saw the smoke rising. It struck fear in our hearts. The men were on the range and must have got to you minutes later."

I nodded and passed the baby to her outstretched arms.

Lydia cradled him in her arms. "Poor child. For plumb sake."

Lydia's husband leaned over his horse. "Indians are spoiling for a fight."

Her mouth dropped. "I feared it was no accident." She turned toward Maya, her black maid on the porch.

Maya stepped off the porch and met up with Lydia, who gave my child to her. Her skin was the color of dark maple and her eyes bright as brown marbles. She was bone thin where a white shawl clung to her shoulders.

As I slipped off Jake's horse, Lydia hugged me until I soiled her blue and white dress. "For land's sake! You look as though you slipped down the chimney. Come with me where you can have a bath, and I will find you a change of clothes, my darling."

"I can't thank you enough for all you and your husband have done."

Mr. McCloud nodded and hopped off his horse, tethering it to the post.

Hot tears rimmed my eyes. Lydia was there for me when my son was born. She kept me above water from drowning in my own misery as a young widow. She was a mother to me and another woman I could share my hopes and heartaches with.


Maya shouldered my son and let him play with her frizzy black hair. "I will get this child cleaned up Miss Taylor, and before long he be white as virgin snow."

Maya and her husband Thad were hired on after they left riotous Kansas and hitched up with a wagon train west. No one asked if they had free papers. In Nebraska, they were a hard-working couple, free as the prairie wind.

Lydia led me inside as if I were some royal guest. There was a picture of our new president, Abraham Lincoln hung on the wall between a mounted antelope and a longhorn sheep. The room was large enough for dancing on the glowing pine wood. Mr. McCord walked inside wiping off his boots and throwing his hat on a hook. Lydia smiled at him and he looked shy as a man with needle and thread.

The men, including Jake, stirred the air with their horses and galloped off in the distance. Mr. McCloud pecked Lydia on the cheek. "I've sent the men off to circle around and be sure the Indians have headed for the hills."

"Fresh coffee is brewing on the Dutch oven," said Lydia. She kissed him on the lips.

"I reckon we can all breathe easy now. I best tend to the other men and tell them to keep an eye out. I'll be back soon." McCloud excused himself. But before he left, he turned to me. "Don't grieve our help, Jane. We don't keep a ledger. Your more family than friend."

It speared my heart to hear his talk of family. I wondered if the whole lot wasn't taken bets over me and Jake, including his father. And yet his son hadn't so much as pecked me on the cheek. What childish dreams I once had that left me the day my husband died. Folks here seemed to have made up their mind that I needed a husband if I were to make it as a homesteader. I was nowhere near ready for a man to come calling.

As I stood in the open between the hall and kitchen, I watched Maya take care to check the washbasin with a finger for the water to be tepid but not hot. We exchanged friendly glances. I did my best to thank her with a nod and kind blue eyes.

The ranch house was no mere dwelling. It had double-hung windows, a solid adobe brick foundation and above the structure was made of thick pine from the evergreen foothills. I was led to a private quarter off the stairs where I could have hot water for a bath passed to me. The sense of insulation from the world was heavy enough to make me want to plunge myself on the downy bed and sink away into a dreamless sleep.

I fought the urge to rest and checked on my child. Josh was laughing and cooing as Maya sponged him and water trickled down his soiled body from a pitcher on the cutting table.

Maya eyed me. "See there, Miss Jane, he takes to water like a little chick-a-dee. Don't you stay a sight for sore eyes? Get yourself that bath."

A chill from the day raked my spine to remind me of my homeless plight as Lydia searched for bedding and ordered Thad to fetch hot water buckets. As I plunged onto the bed, I listened to momentary silence, a sweet sound of silence where my thoughts wrestled over my burned down cabin, the land, the Indians, and the gulf between here and a place for my son to grow into a man.

A knock on the door jarred me off the bed. I flattened my skirt and took a look at the girl in the vanity mirror over a cherry dresser. I didn't recognize her with ratty hair and a blackened face. I refused to welcome the stranger in the mirror.

I cleared my throat. "Come in. Thad, Maya's husband was at the door with piping hot water in a row of wood buckets. "Afternoon, Miss Taylor, Okay if I fill your bath?"

Yes, Tad. You and Maya are a blessing."

His eyes danced away from me. Tears threatened to spill from mine over the weight of the day. He turned himself toward the tub. The water splashed and steamed up.

"Thad, you hear any more about the war?"

"Don't rightly know Miss Jane. I wanted to join the army," he said, as he dumped more steaming hot water in the clawfoot tub. "But oh, Mrs. McCord and my own wife put up such a fuss. I figured if I got into the war, I'd have to fight them before I got out the gate. And them two fight like Indians."

The thought of our country divided by war, brother against brother, our own families were torn asunder. And then the unhappy Indians as wagon trains and the Buffalo hunters become invaders. It seemed the world caved from all sides. And yet, it felt like we all belonged together, the ranch was like one big stew of lost souls finding their way.

"I don't want you leaving either," I said. "I might just have to get in your way too."

Thad smiled with a broad smile and a few missing teeth. Sweat gathered on his brow from the buckets he put in the tub. "Don't you worry none, Miss Jane. We all take good care of you and your son."

"I aim to pay everyone back one day. You'll see." I just wasn't sure how. As Thad left and backed away, I could see he had his doubts.