A Shadow on the Plains

The First Caller

Eliana guided the steady stream of wool across the shuttle, spinning it both expertly and effortlessly as she worked in silence, listening to the hum of her spinning wheel and the click of her mother's knitting needles.

Margaret Carter was a daughter of the South... once the reigning beauty of Kentucky's plantations. But her strong aversion to slavery had driven her North, where she had met and married Josiah Carter. Life in Pennsylvania had been difficult for her, with her gentle Southern accent and mannerisms... she just couldn't fit into the tight little community of Yankee farmers. That had been just one of many reasons that the Carter family had packed up their family of what was then seven children and made the long and dangerous trip west to Wyoming. A year after their arrival, Eliana had been born... the last of their children. Then Abby, Margaret's oldest daughter and, consequently, dearest friend, died in child labor, along with her little son. As Eliana had confided to Rachel the day before, Margaret hadn't been the same since. Her third oldest, Lizzie, was now expecting her third and the poor mother was frightened to death. As always, when a daughter of hers was "in the family way", she applied herself to working as hard and as much as she possibly could... anything to keep her mind off her fears. The much-anticipated little one already had five sweaters, three hats, and four pairs of booties and already had Margaret started on a baby afghan. Both her house and Lizzie's was painfully clean and the pantries were filled full to bursting. So what had she left to do but to knit and to do so furiously?

Jacob was spending the evening with the Buchanan's or, more specifically, with Rachel. Eliana was terribly happy, of course, that her best friend was to be her sister, but she couldn't help but feel... well... left out. Now both her best friend and her favorite brother were to occupied with each other to even notice her. With an impatient sigh, she lunged the spinning wheel faster and her thread snapped. Groaning inwardly, she stopped the wheel and applied herself to mending her thread.

Someone knocked then and Josiah Carter shoved his account books aside, rising from his chair by the fire to answer the door. It was dark outside now and, although Eliana craned her neck, she couldn't quite make out who it was that stood on the porch when her father opened the door. But she knew at least that it was a young man. Her father seemed surprised at first, then stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him. The murmur of low voices could be heard, but no words distinguished. Margaret looked up from her knitting to smile knowingly at her daughter.

At length the door opened and Josiah reentered, followed by a tall, thin young man who stood nervously twisting his hat in his hands. John Halliday, the banker's son. Eliana knew him well. They had gone to school together and, although he had been a couple of grades ahead of her, they had been friends of a sort. The Halliday's were the richest family in town and, consequently, John was the most sought-after young man in town. But Eliana did not join the other girls in their unanimous admiration. After all, she and John had only ever been friends. And in the years since they had both completed their schooling, they had drifted apart. What was it that he wanted?

"Ellie, my girl," Josiah spoke with almost a catch in his voice. "John Halliday, here, has just asked for my permission to call on you... and I've given it."

Eliana caught her breath and the thread slipped, unheeded from her fingers. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she could scarce hear her own thoughts. John looked up then, his face red, and cleared his throat.

"If... if that is agreeable to you, of course, Eliana... I mean... Miss Carter." he stammered, reaching up to fidget with his collar.

"Eliana is fine," she stood, clasping her hands to hide their shaking. "We... there is no need to be formal. We're still friends... aren't we?" He nodded, smiling slightly. Her mind was spinning wildly and she reached out to hold onto the spinning wheel as if it would help balance her mentally. Hadn't she waited so long for a caller? John Halliday... well... he wasn't exactly what she had hoped for but...

"I... would be most honored... if you would come calling," she found herself saying and was relieved to find that she had said it properly. Her mother was nodding, smiling, but there seemed to almost be tears in her eyes.

And so John Halliday was welcomed into the Carter home that evening and stayed to sit and talk with Eliana while Margaret brought in popcorn and Josiah returned to his account books.

When the express rider rode past that night at seven thirty, for the first time, Eliana was not out in the street to greet him. He was surprised. In the past few months that he had been riding for the Pony Express, she had never failed to be out when he passed. Not only surprised, but worried also. Was something wrong that she was not there? But he had no claim on her attention. He had no reason at all to expect her to be there. Winding the leather reins more tightly around his work-roughened hands, he bent lower over the neck of his mount, urging it faster yet as they left the town far behind and sped quickly toward the shining silver ribbon of the North Platte River.