Free Heart of the Sandhills by Stephanie Grace Whitson Page A

me to make you promise you won’t make anything quite so fancy for the Marshes as you did for her.”
    Daniel patted Robert on the shoulder. “Beware, brother. Being trapped between two women is not a good place for a man to be.”
    “And what would you know about that ?” Gen teased.
    Daniel grinned at her and winked. “I can only imagine, little wife.”
    “You’re supposed to wait until Saturday and then drive to the Marshes’. I think she needs that long to convince her husband.” Gen added, “And Marjorie said to tell you Jeb would go along to make certain you get paid what the work is worth. In cash .” Chattering happily, the two women headed inside to begin supper. After they had left, Daniel and Robert unhitched Robert’s team and led them to the corral the two families shared. While he was pumping fresh water for the team, Daniel said hopefully, “Maybe things are changing.”
    Robert shrugged. “I’ve lived long enough to know there is no time limit on hatred in the hearts of men. So have you. And men with such a deep hatred as Abner Marsh are not easily won. What happened back in ‘62 changed our lives forever. We did nothing wrong, but we will suffer alongside those who did.”
    Daniel sighed. “I know I must trust God, but sometimes I do not understand what He is doing.”
    “We have good homes and good wives,” Robert said. “God kept us safe through a terrible winter. Genevieve and Nancy have found friendship with the women. For these things and more, we can give thanks.” He smiled. “I have heard Jeb speak of the Marshes and their house. It is very large. I will need help with this work. Perhaps we will both be able to afford good horses by harvest.”

    Nothing in his recent past could have equaled the horror Daniel Two Stars felt when Abner Marsh came out to greet Robert the day he was to begin work on the “gee-gaws” Mrs. Marsh insisted adorn her expansive new home overlooking New Ulm. As soon as he recognized the man, Daniel jumped down off the wagon and walked to the well where he began to draw water for Robert’s team. He pulled his old army hat down as far over his brow as possible, and stuffed his long braid inside his shirt. And he prayed, how he prayed.
    But Abner Marsh was not a man to miss an opportunity to assert his superior position in the universe. Having introduced himself to Robert, the brawny farmer strode to where Daniel stood, half-hidden behind Robert’s team. Thrusting a huge paw at Daniel he said gruffly, “Abner Marsh.”
    Daniel muttered a greeting and shook the man’s hand without looking up.
    “Don’t take to workin’ with a man what can’t look me in the eye,” he said abruptly. Daniel tipped his head back and peered up into the man’s eyes for an eternal moment, thinking surely this would be the end of life as he knew it. But Marsh only nodded and turned toward Robert. “Don’t take to Injuns as a rule,” he said. “Had a run-in with ‘em before. But Grant says you’re all right. Says you worked as scouts for the army against your own. That right?”
    Robert nodded.
    When neither of the men offered any more comment on their lives as Indian scouts, Marsh grunted. “My missus thinks she’ll die if’n she don’t have those fancy railings and such like you carved for Marjorie Grant.” He reached into his pocket and, withdrawing a wad of tobacco leaves, took a pinch and shoved it in his mouth before asking, “Where’d you learn to carpenter?”
    “Hope Station,” Robert replied. “By the Upper Agency. And I helped build Dr. Wakefield’s home at the Lower Agency.”
    “You one of them mission Indians?” Marsh said. “One of them that got religion?”
    “We are both Christians,” Robert said quietly.
    Marsh snorted. “Only mission Indians I ever saw was the day I caught three of ‘em tryin’ to steal my horses.”
    Robert remained silent, eyeing Marsh carefully.
    Motioning for the men to follow him, Marsh led them to the barn.