Chapter XXX Ruth Receives a Surprise
With the return of the young men of the West from the war the settlement and development of the new country made rapid strides.
The Free Homestead Law, which had been signed by President Lincoln, took effect in 1863 and provided that any man or woman twenty-one years old or the head of a family could have 160 acres of land by living on it for five years and paying about eighteen dollars in fees.
Joe and Lige, who were now of age, immediately filed claims on the tracts of land that their father had staked out for them near his own eight years before, and proceeded joyfully to build upon them the houses necessary to hold the claims, which each fondly hoped would shelter a bride before another year had rolled away.
Ruth was not yet old enough to file a claim, but Nina, who had passed her twenty-first birthday, filed a claim on a beautiful tract of land next to Joe’s, near the river. Sam, who was only twenty, had already taken out a timber-claim, and was planting trees upon it in his spare time, and both he and Paul had pieces of land located upon which they meant to preëmpt as soon as they were old enough.
In spite of the thankfulness she felt for the return of her brothers Ruth could not be happy. She tried to enter into all the joy of the household, but the sight of Joe and Nina walking hand-in-hand in the moonlight, of Lige and Beatrice scampering across the prairies on their ponies, caused an ache in her heart that kept her sleepless many nights and wet her pillow with tears.
She had kept her secret while Herbert was away, feeling that they were both too young to become formally engaged, but she knew that she loved him as she could never love any other man, and that if he never returned there would be a grave in her heart for all eternity.
Joe and Lige did their utmost to comfort her, but felt as the days crept by that there was little chance of Herbert’s return.
Joe’s ambition to become a lawyer had never faltered, and as soon as he had received his discharge from the army he immediately set to work to prepare himself for his examination for admission to the bar.
He studied hard, and the reading he had done during the long days while he plowed in the fields now stood him in good stead. A month after his return he went to Nebraska City and took his examination, which he passed with high honors and was admitted to practise law in the State.
He left the building with his certificate in his pocket and pride and exultation in his heart. He was a lawyer! The ambition of his boyhood was fulfilled. It now remained with him to make the rest of his dreams come true.
As he walked along jubilantly he saw a group of men coming toward him wearing the familiar blue uniform. He had returned to citizen’s clothes, but the sight of the old uniform still thrilled him, and with the feeling of comradeship that it always inspired in him he stopped and waited for them to come up.
They walked very slowly, and as they came nearer he saw that they supported between them one of their comrades, who tottered like an old man.
“That fellow ought to be in an ambulance instead of on foot,” he thought, and walked toward the group. As he reached them the man who was being supported raised his head.
“Herbert—my God, Herbert!” he cried, and clutched the yellow, skeleton-like hands.
The gaunt figure raised a haggard, ashen face, with hollow eyes and unshaven cheeks.
“Joe!” he whispered in a weak voice; “thank God!”
Joe had his arm about him by this time supporting him. Casting a swift glance up and down the street he saw a man coming toward them in a wagon.
“Here,” he shouted, “take this soldier to a hotel, won’t you? He’s sick—wounded—he is not able to walk.”
The war was too fresh in the minds of the people for any one to hesitate. Willing hands lifted the emaciated frame of the young soldier into the wagon, Joe sprang in beside him, and a few moments later Herbert James was in a hot bath, laid in a clean bed, with a doctor and nurse beside him.
When he could speak he told Joe that he had been captured and held in a Southern prison, where the conditions were so terrible that it was a miracle a single man came out of it alive. He had just been exchanged, he said, and he and the companions whom Joe had seen with him were on their way home when Joe met him.
Joe saw that there was something on his mind of which he hesitated to speak, and after a little time he asked for Ruth, so bashfully, and with an expression of such wistfulness in his hollow eyes that Joe’s heart rejoiced. He told him that Ruth was well, but very unhappy at his failure to return, at which a faint color stained the boy’s thin cheeks, and he turned his face to the wall and lay silent for many moments.
When he had fallen asleep Joe asked the doctor how soon he could be taken home, and was told that the sooner he reached home the better. “All he needs now is food and rest and care,” he continued, “and it will take a lot of that, and considerable time before he is much better.”
When the young soldier awakened it was to find a new suit of citizen’s clothes laid out upon a chair, his filthy, tattered old uniform destroyed, and a barber waiting to shave him.
When he had eaten, was bathed and shaved and dressed he looked better.
“Now we’re going home, old chap,” Joe told him, whereat the poor broken youth began to cry.
Joe now had a side-bar buggy, to which he drove Kit, and with Herbert beside him made as comfortable as possible with rugs and pillows, they started for the Blue.
When they came in sight of the homestead Herbert gave a glad cry. “I never thought to see it again,” he cried.
Joe lifted him out of the buggy and supported him into the house. Fortunately Ruth had gone for a walk with Nina. Mrs. Peniman received him almost as joyfully as if he had been one of her own sons. He seemed too exhausted to go farther, and a message was sent to his parents by David, who almost caused the death of Mrs. James by bursting into the house and yelling at the top of his voice that Herbert had come home.
The James family arrived at the homestead a few minutes later, and Mrs. Peniman went out and closed the door, leaving the young soldier to meet and greet his mother.
Half an hour later Ruth and Nina came home. It was evident that Ruth had been crying, and they walked slowly, with Nina’s arm clasped about her waist.
Mrs. Peniman sent the children away and stood in the door awaiting them. As they came up to her she put her arms about Ruth and drew her to her side.
“Ruth,” she said gently, “I have news for thee. A message has come——”
Ruth started forward, the color ebbing out of her face.
“From Herbert?” she whispered.
“Yes, there is a message from Herbert. Is thee strong enough to bear a shock——”
“A shock? Then he is dead?”
“No, no, I did not mean that. But we have news—some one has come——”
“Some one has come—Herbert?” and without waiting for the preparation that her mother had intended, she rushed into the house. For an instant she stood inside the door with white face and distended eyes. Then, hearing the low murmur of voices, she dashed aside the curtains, and saw Herbert lying on the bed.
The two young people uttered a simultaneous cry, and a moment later were locked in each other’s arms. It was not for many minutes that Ruth could look at him, that she saw the wreck that war had made of the handsome boy she had loved. But when she did see it made no difference in her love. With the wealth of mother-love that had always overflowed her gentle heart she soothed and comforted him, told him that he would soon be well, and promised that she would nurse him back to life and health.
The next day she went quietly to her father and told him that she wanted him to marry them.
“It will take months to nurse him back to himself, Father,” she told him, “and I am the one who can do it best. I can give him better care as his wife than I could as his sweetheart, and I want to marry him right now.”
The family protested, but Ruth was never known to abandon an idea once she had set her mind upon it, and after some argument on the subject her family at last gave in.
“She might as well be nursing Herbert as a chicken with a broken wing or a dog with a sore foot,” smiled her father, “for you know Ruthie will always be taking care of something. We all know and like Herbert, and have no objection to her marrying him sometime, and I know no reason why, if they both desire it, Ruth should not be given the privilege of nursing her husband back to health.”
Mrs. Peniman finally agreed to this, and that evening as the sunset glow shone into the little soddy Herbert was propped up in his bed, and Ruth, in a simple little white dress, with the flush and glow of radiant happiness upon her face, stood with her hand in his while her father spoke the solemn words that made them man and wife.