What Lies West

Robert spoke to Willahe in his native tongue, as easily as if it were his own. Lina could only guess the conversation, which, once past the greeting, seemed to turn suddenly serious. Robert asked questions, and the Indian answered. Willahe looked worried as he told a long story, interrupted only by Robert’s quick questions. Robert’s expression soon matched the old man’s. When they were done, Robert looked to Lina, and then he headed for the tent. “Come with me,” he said as he swept by her. She followed him. Inside, he was pulling the blankets from the bedrolls. “Here,” he said,” throwing them to her. “Roll these up.” She stood there, dumbfounded, holding the blankets, watching him as he rummaged through the tent. “He’s come for blankets?” she asked. “Blankets? No, but we’ll need them,” he said without looking up. “Did you bring any food with you? Ah, here it is,” he said. He held up a bottle of whiskey. “What about water? You did bring water, didn’t you?” He turned around. “Say, get started on those blankets! Now, a note. I need to leave a note…” He muttered to himself as he searched through a small stack of papers. Hurriedly, he picked one, scribbled something on it, and then stuck it through with the nail that held the mirror hanging from the tent post. “Robert, you’re not making sense,” she said, but she dutifully rolled the blankets. “Food, water, whiskey, these blankets? You’re giving these things to Willahe?” “No, we’re taking them with us.” “Us? You’re going with him? But I thought we were going…” she started, then felt ashamed. Surely, whatever assistance Willahe needed was more pressing than her tour of the timber. “Of course, we can do that another time…” “Oh, you’ll get your tour, my dear. Just not quite the tour either of us imagined. We’re going with him, you and me. To his longhouse. His son’s wife is having a baby, and it’s not going well. He’s come looking for help.” “Our help?” She shot a quick glance toward the tent flap, aware that Willahe was only a few feet away, then she whispered, “We’re not doctors.” “That’s a luxury he can’t afford right now.” He stopped what he was doing to face her. “Look, Lina. I know this is asking a lot. The truth is, Willahe has no one else. Most of his people are gone. Smallpox, skirmishes with the whites, or just scattered to the four winds. Willahe’s wife died last winter. The family he has left, two sons and his grandson, are hunting and won’t be back for days. There’s no one but Willahe, the mother and her small daughter. He’s left the mother alone with her little girl. Can you imagine how frightened she is? She’s been in pain for a day, and still the baby hasn’t come. If we don’t go, she and the baby might die. I can’t have that.” He took the rolled up blankets from her. “I’ll understand if you can’t go. But I must. And I’ll have to take your food and water, though.” He tucked the whiskey bottle under his arm, and left the tent. Lina followed him outside, where he was tying the bundle to his horse. Willahe had already mounted his horse, and was waiting patiently. “I’ve helped with a baby before,” she said quietly. Robert turned to her. “You have? You know how it’s done?” “I’ve helped. That’s all. I was there. I held the mother’s hand.” “Then will you come? Please? You can hold the mother’s hand again, if nothing else.” With a small, nervous laugh, she said, “Very well. But who will hold my hand?” “I will,” he said, grabbing her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “Now, then. What else might we need?” he asked. “I suppose you have a knife with you. Bedding, hot water, knife. That’s all I remember.” “Then let’s go,” Robert said. They mounted their horses. “You know, Mr. Marr, this is really more of an adventure than I planned on.” Lina was trying to keep the mood light, if only for her own sense of calm. “Well, I suspect you’re up to it. Who knows, this might just be providential, you coming here today.” Then they were off. The old Indian led the way, followed by Robert, and Lina behind, all headed toward the mountains along a slowly rising trail that led away from all that Lina knew as familiar.