SEVEN
Caroline walked to the window and pulled the curtain back. It had been three or four hours since the girls had left for school and she was alone in the house with Carrie. The little girl was playing with her rag doll and pretending to be its ma, pointing a finger and scolding it for not doing its chores. Sometimes it took a child to hold up a mirror and show you what you sounded like. Though the blonde woman couldn't remember ever pointing a finger, she did snap at the children now and then and often regretted it. Sometimes it was just so hard. There was so much to do; so many things that had to be done no matter what, and often it was left up to her to get them done. Charles was a wonderful father and husband and he helped her as much as he could but men, by nature, were out of the house more than in. Like now. It would probably be two weeks if not more before Charles returned and during that time she had to get the girls up, to school and to bed, feed them and bathe them and make sure their homework was done, all the while keeping up with the wash and the mending and the daily chores like taking the eggs into Olesons and...
Caroline stopped. What was she complaining about? She was so blessed, and yet it was so easy to forget the blessings she had. Beautiful, well-mannered children. A husband who loved her as the Bible said, with the love Christ had for his bride. A man whose whole being was bent on taking care of her and his children and seeing that they had everything they could need.
Looking at Carrie again, she walked over and knelt by her child. "And what is you little one doing today?" she asked.
"Baking pies!" Carrie exclaimed.
"Oh, I see. What kind of pies?"
She thought a minute and then her eyes lit up. "Blackberry pies!"
Carrie and the other girls just loved blackberries. There were just a few left from their summer supply. "And just how big are these pies?" she asked.
The little girl thought a minute and then she held up her hands, making a three or four inch circle.
"Well, you know what, Carrie? I think we just might have enough dried blackberries left to make a pie that big. Would you like to do that?"
Carrie's head bobbed up and down and her little face lit with a beautiful smile.
She needed to make pie dough anyway. One of the neighbors had brought her a jar of mincemeat and she didn't want to let it go to waste, even though with Charles away, she and Mary were the only ones who would truly enjoy it. Laura had made it very clear that she didn't think meat belonged in a fruit pie.
Picking her little girl up, Caroline moved with her to the kitchen table. Placing her in her chair, she'd just turned to gather up the ingredients when a knock came at the door. Not knowing who it was, she put Carrie back on the floor before going to answer it.
She got a surprise when she opened it. The Reverend Alden was standing there. So was Laura and she had a black eye!
"Goodness!" she exclaimed. "What happened?"
The Reverend was behind Laura. He looked at her over her child's head. "I was coming this way when I saw Miss Beadle walking Laura toward Doctor Baker's. I went to find out if she could use any help and ended up staying with Laura until Hiram was done. Then I volunteered to bring her home."
Laura was uncharacteristically quiet. "Well, young lady, do you have anything to say for yourself?" she asked.
The question was addressed to the top of Laura's head since she was looking down. "It's nothing, Ma. I just fell."
With her fingers, she caught the little girl's chin and lifted her head so she was looking at her. The eye was swelling shut. There was a little cut at the end of it that Doctor Baker had put patch on. It was possible she'd fallen and struck something.
Possible but not probably.
"And just how did you fall and where?"
She could see the wheels turning in her middle child's head. "I tripped while we were outside playing. I hit the corner of the see-saw."
"I see. And were you alone when you fell?"
Now they came to it. Laura chewed her lip. "No."
"According to Miss Beadle, Nellie and Willie Oleson were close by, as well as Mary," the Reverend Alden said.
She might have known.
"Laura, did you get into a fight with Nellie?"
Her answer was so quiet she almost missed it. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Laura," she sighed.
Her daughter looked right at her. "But I didn't hit her!"
"So she hit you?" she asked, surprised. Nellie was devious and downright mean, but she usually had other children do her dirty work.
"No, Ma'am. I wasn't lyin'. I really did hit the see-saw. I turned and walked away from Nellie even though the things she was sayin' were just awful. I wasn't payin' no attention to Willie and he stuck out his foot and tripped me."
"So you really weren't fighting?"
Tears welled in her child's eyes. "I promised Pa, that no matter what Nellie said about him, I wouldn't, and I kept my promise."
Caroline drew a deep breath. Her eyes went to the reverend who was looking at her with sympathy. She opened her mouth to address him, but at that moment she felt a tug on her skirt. Looking down, she found it was Carrie.
"Yes, Carrie?"
"We going to make pies?" she asked, her little eyes round as her face.
There were more questions she had for Laura, but at the moment she thought it was more important to talk to the reverend.
"Laura?"
She looked wary. "Yes, Ma'am?"
"I told Carrie we'd use the last of the blackberries and make a little pie for her rag doll. The ingredients for the crust are on the table. I need two big ones for the mincemeat and I thought we would use the scraps for the little pie. Can you take her over there and get started? I'm just going to see the reverend out."
Laura's eyes lifted to the reverend's face and then she nodded. "Sure thing, Ma."
As the girls moved into the kitchen, Caroline followed their minister out the door. His buggy was outside.
"Thank you for bringing Laura home," she said as they headed toward it.
"You're most welcome," he said. "Although, as I said, I was headed to your place anyway."
"What for?" she asked, and then felt rude. "I'm sorry, I mean..."
He held up a hand. "Its quite all right." The reverend paused. "I am not going to lend dignity to the rumors that are running around town right now by repeating them, I just wanted to see if you were all right."
Caroline winced. "How can people believe such things?"
"We're all weak, unfortunate creatures, prone to hate and to other sins including lies. The Bible tells us that. "
"I know, but this... This is deliberate. That Harriet Oleson has had it in for Charles since we moved to Walnut Grove. Heavens knows why! And now, now she is using this...situation...to spread lies about him."
"Saying Charles is the Indian boy's father, you mean?"
"Yes!"
"And what do you think you should do about it?"
His question surprised her into silence for several heartbeats. "What do you mean?"
"What do you want to do about it?"
She shrugged. "Make her stop?"
"Christ gave us instructions for dealing with such a situation as this. They're found in Matthew 18. To paraphrase the scripture slightly, it says, 'If your sister sins against you, go and tell her that her fault between you and her alone. If she hears you, you have gained your sister. But if she will not hear, take with you one or two more, that by the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established. And if she refuses to hear them, tell it to the church'." He paused. "Are you willing to follow them?"
"I've already talked to Harriet about her spreading rumors. She has no intention of stopping. Neither do Bessie Smith or Lenora Adams."
"I see." He thought a moment. "Today is Tuesday. We have a meeting of the ladies society tomorrow night. I'll go to Harriet and the others today and see what they have to say. If I don't get anywhere, well, would you be willing to address this then?"
"Reverend, I..."
"Caroline, there is more at stake here than Charles' reputation. We can't have this kind of thing happening among the parishioners. There is such a thing as the testimony of the church and it is far too important a thing to let it be sullied by gossips."
"Well, if you think it's for the best," she reluctantly agreed. It wasn't that she was afraid to face Harriet and the other woman, it was just that she knew the repercussions might be severe, especially for the girls.
He reached out and touched her arm. "I know its for the best. We have to nip this in the bud. There is no room for slander in this town." As he released her and then climbed into the wagon, the reverend added, "I'll get word to you tomorrow, before the meeting."
She nodded.
"And don't worry, Caroline, the Lord will honor your trust and obedience."
Caroline waved as he drove away. She stood there a moment considering the young man who had brought this on them and wondering just where he and her husband were. And then she went inside to join her daughters.
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Laura looked up as Mary walked back into the room. She'd been helping her ma with the pies and playing with Carrie and hadn't realized the time had flown so fast. Ma had just laid Carrie down for a nap and gone into the room she shared with Pa. She'd picked up a book and stuck her nose in it, hoping when Ma returned that she'd think she was studying and wouldn't try to 'talk'.
Mary sat down at the table and looked at her. "How's your eye?" she asked.
"It smarts, but that's okay."
"I saw what Willie did. He and Nellie had it planned." She paused. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to stop them."
"It's all right." Laura glanced at the hallway that led to their parent's room. Ma was in there changin' the linens. She made a fist and demonstrated what she meant as she said, "You just wait 'til Pa gets home and then I'll give that old Nellie what for!"
"How come you're waitin' 'til then?"
Laura opened her fist and placed her hand flat down on the table. "On account I made a promise to Pa that I wouldn't pop Nellie in the nose while he was gone on account of the lies she's been tellin' about him."
Mary was silent a moment . "I don't know what Nellie's thinking," she said with disgust. "Pa wouldn't have had anything to do with an Indian woman."
It was stated as a fact.
"What are you sayin', Mary? You sound like you don't like Indians."
Her sister's crystal blue eyes narrowed. She glanced toward the bedroom and then said, "I hate them. They're just a bunch of heathens."
She knew Mary didn't like Indians, but she was surprised to hear her say she hated them. The ones they'd met in Kansas had been scary at first, but Pa said they were God's creatures too. "Some of them aren't. Pa said he was pretty sure Chief Du Chene was a Cath-o-lic since he was raised by French people."
"Then why'd he give you that amulet? That's black magic, you know."
"No, it isn't!" The amulet hung now on the post of her bed. "It's just a lucky charm."
"That's what I mean. The Bible warns against charms and spells." Mary got to her feet. "It's like they're witches or something."
"Soldat du Chene was my friend! You take that back!" Laura shouted as she climbed to her feet.
Ma was in the room in a second. "What are you two arguing about?" she asked, sounding tired and kind of upset.
"Nothing," Mary said. "I stepped on Laura's toe and she got mad."
"Is that the truth?" their ma asked, looking from her to her sister and back again.
"Mary said it, so it must be," she replied sullenly.
Her mother's toe was tapping. "Mary?"
"It's nothing, Ma. Can I go upstairs and do my studying?"
It was obvious their mother wasn't satisfied, but she nodded. "Wake Carrie and take her with you. Laura and I are going to go outside and get some of the evening chores done."
"Sure thing, Ma," her sister said and, with only a little glance at her, headed into Carrie's room.
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They'd been cleaning and raking and tossing hay, putting out feed and laying down straw for an hour or so when her Ma told her it was time to take a break. Outside the light was fading and the lights in the house were on. She wondered if Mary was studyin' like she said or readin' her Bible and lookin' for all the things that said that Indians were going to Hell.
"Laura, come sit by me," Ma said as she put down the pitchfork and sat on an unbroken hay bale.
Laura put her rake up and did as her mother asked. They sat there a minute, not sayin' nothin'. It was her that broke the silence.
"I miss Pa."
Her mother smiled at her as she ringed her shoulders with an arm. "I do too. It's just not the same when he's not here."
"No, Ma'am."
The older woman paused and then asked, "What did Nellie say today?"
Laura frowned. "Pa says it ain't right to carry tales."
"Your father's right, but telling me what Nellie said is not carrying a tale. Do you understand?"
She looked at her shoes. "Yes, Ma'am. Only...it ain't nice."
"Isn't."
"Yes, Ma'am. It isn't."
When she failed to go on, her mother prompted, "Laura."
"Nellie said Alan was Pa's...well," Her heels beat out a pattern against the baled hay. "...you know."'
Her mother's hand covered hers. "No, tell me."
"She said Alan is Pa's son. That Pa was with some Indian woman before he married you." She couldn't remember the big word Nellie had used – the one she'd heard in church that started with an 'for'. "That he did somethin' wrong."
The fingers that held her were trembling ever so slightly. "And what do you think?"
She let out a long sigh. "It ain't – isn't true. I know it isn't."
"Because you know your Pa."
Laura rolled her eyes. "And I know Nellie. She likes bein' mean."
"She comes by it naturally," her mother mumbled.
"You mean 'cause of Mrs. Oleson?" When her mother nodded, she went on. "What is it you think makes the two of them so mean? I mean, Willie's bad, but mostly 'cause Nellie talks him into it, and Mister Oleson is so nice."
"I'm not sure," she replied. "Jealousy, I guess."
"Nellie, jealous of me? But Ma, she's got everything!"
"Nellie has worldly goods, Laura, too many of them, and maybe that's why she doesn't know what's important." Her mother held her gaze. "We have to pity her. She's never had the opportunity to find out."
"Maybe." She sat a minute thinking and then asked, "So what are we gonna do about her tellin' lies about Pa?"
"Our friends won't believe them, and those who aren't our friends will believe them even if we tell them otherwise. Isn't that right?"
That was disappointing. "I guess so, and I guess poppin' Nellie in the nose wouldn't have done any good neither."
Her mother looked very stern. "Certainly not..." Then she laughed. "But I bet it would have made you feel better."
Laura blinked. "What?"
The older woman stood up. "It would have made me feel better to pop Harriet and those other two old biddies in the nose too, but I made your Pa a promise as well."
"That you wouldn't let them get under your skin?"
"Exactly!" Her mother held out her hand. "Ready to go in now and sample some of that mince meat pie?"
Laura looked sick. "Do I gotta?"
The blonde woman grinned. "Maybe if you ask nicely Carrie's rag doll will let you have some of her blackberry tart instead."
Laura stood as well and put her hand in her Ma's.
"Now you're talkin'!"
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It was late afternoon and, unbelievably, Caroline found she had a little time to herself. Mary had brought Laura's schoolwork home and the two of them were head-to-head at the desk in their room working on it. Carrie was taking a nap with her little rag doll who now had a giant blackberry smile. Mister Edwards had returned and gone out into the fields immediately. It would soon be time to put supper on the table, but it was ready for the most part. She'd made a stew and it was simmering. The mince meat pies were done and the bread already baked.
"Quite efficient, Mrs. Ingalls," she said softly to herself.
Her talk with Laura earlier in the day had brought home just how malicious the rumors Harriet Oleson and her friends were spreading and how wrong it was for them to do so. She glanced at her lap. Her Bible lay there, open to a passage in James.
'If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's religion is vain.'
The Reverend Alden was right, she couldn't let it go, though she wasn't sure just how three of the most 'upstanding' women in the town – and ones who had donated quite a bit of money to the church – were going take to being corrected and told that their religion was 'vain' or worthless.
No, that was a lie. She did know.
They were certainly not going to take it lying down!
There were times she envied men. Things seemed so simple with them. If someone offended them, they'd either talk it over and come to an understanding, or fight until one of them came out on top and then shake on it and go their separate ways. Women, on the other hand, would apologize to your face, saying they meant no harm, and then go about talking behind your back. Everything they did was hidden, their hateful words cloaked in innuendo
There were times when she was ashamed to be one.
Caroline stirred. She picked her Bible up and stared at the page it was open to, which was the beginning of the book of James. James was such a no-nonsense leader of the early church. Charles, with his deep belief in showing your fruit in deeds, identified with him. There were certainly many nuggets of wisdom within its five short chapters. Her eyes returned to one of her favorite ones, 1:17.
'Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.'
God was truth. There was no other way to describe Him, and those who followed in the footsteps of His son were required to walk in truth as well. When Jesus was in the temple, arguing with the Pharisees, he told them that they belonged to the Devil and were carrying out their father's desires. He said Lucifer was 'a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth', for there was no truth in him, and that when he spoke he was a liar and the father of lies.
Tomorrow night she would have to face a room full of their neighbors. A few would be on her side. They were friends who knew exactly what Harriet Oleson was. But there were more who knew and trusted Harriet, who didn't know them. They were still relatively new to the town. They didn't exactly have any enemies in Walnut Grove, but there were plenty of men who might enjoy a chance to bring Charles Ingalls down to their level by insinuating that, when young, the Godly Mister Ingalls had had his way with an Indian woman and then left her alone to raise their son.
Caroline closed her eyes. A lone tear trailed down her cheek.
Charles so wanted a son.
"Ma? Is everything all right?"
It was Mary. With a sniff and a swipe of her fingers, she turned toward her daughter. "Done so soon?"
"Laura's still working. She has extra since she left school early." Her eldest walked over and stood looking down at her. "How come you're crying? " Mild panic entered her child's voice. "You didn't hear something bad about Pa?"
"Oh, no, dear!" she answered, rising. "You just put that thought out of your head." Caroline frowned. "Why would you think such a thing?"
Mary looked uncomfortable. At last she said, "He's traveling with an...Indian."
Her frown deepened. "And just what do you mean by that?"
She looked at her toes. "Nothing."
Caroline caught the child's chin and lifted her head so she could meet her eyes. "That wasn't 'nothing'. What did you mean?"
"It's just...well... It's just they're savages and heathens and I don't understand why Pa would put his life at risk to help one! I thought the Good Book said we aren't supposed to be yoked with unbelievers, for what do righteousness and wickedness have in common?"
"We're not supposed to become like unbelievers, Mary, but to remain pure. That doesn't mean you aren't supposed to reach out to them. For goodness sake, how would any unbeliever become a believer if someone didn't?"
It was Mary's eye that had a tear in it now. She had paled and was shaking. "I remember those drums in Kansas, Ma. Drumming, drumming, never stopping, while those Indians decided whether or not they were gonna kill us and take our scalps." The look she gave her was one of abject terror. "What if that Injun scalps Pa?"
Caroline drew her daughter into her arms. "Don't be silly, Mary. First of all, no such thing is going to happen and, secondly, even if Alan did try to hurt you Pa, he's just a boy. Your Pa can take care of himself."
Mary was sniffin against her apron. "Are you sure, Ma? Are you really sure?"
"Of course, I am," she replied with forced cheerfulness.
The Bible said, 'And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.' She was accusing Harriet Oleson of being a liar and here she was, doing the same thing.
Of course, she didn't know for certain.
"Now, come on," the blonde woman said, moving her daughter to arms' length. "We've a few things to do before supper, and then it will be time for evening chores. We want everything in right order for when your pa comes home, don't we?"
Her daughter nodded. "Yes, Ma'am." She glanced toward the window. "I hope it's soon."
Caroline circled her with her arm. "So do I, Mary. So do I."