The Mail Must Get Through

8 1 0
                                    

Eliana was waiting in the street... waiting for the express rider. The streets were otherwise nearly empty. The Indian scare had most people staying strictly indoors these days. Most of the men of the town had ridden on out to Stewart's ranch the day before to discuss any necessary plans of action. Eliana's father had gone... Jacob had gone too and Rachel's face had been snow-white ever since. But she held her head up high with pride. John had not gone and Eliana was almost ashamed of him. And ashamed of herself as well, for feeling relieved that he, at least, would be safe.

The express rider was late and she was nervous. He was never late. Ever. But it was half an hour past four and still she did not see him... but then she heard the galloping hoofbeats of his pony and she relaxed. He was coming.

The pony came tearing into town and at once she realized that something was wrong, though she couldn't quite see. On impulse she ran out into the middle of the street, into the path of the oncoming rider. The pony balked, rearing back, and then stopping still. Eliana's heart sank in horror at the sight before her eyes. The express rider slumped forward lifelessly in the saddle, a Comanche arrow in his back.

Crying for help, she worked frantically at the knots in the rope that held him to the saddle. She couldn't tell if he was dead or alive but her first thought was to get him out of the saddle. As she worked the rope free, he slumped into her arms, but she couldn't bear his weight. She fell to her knees, bending over the still form, her heart aching. She didn't even know him... but she couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

Already a small crowd had gathered and the rider was lifted from the ground and carried into the Carter house, simply because it was the nearest building.

"Rachel!" Eliana nearly screamed when she noticed her friend standing in the doorway. "Run for your father. Quickly!" Rachel turned and ran from the house. Dr. Buchanan arrived within a few minutes, his daughter behind him, breathless.

Clearing the crowd away, the doctor knelt over the motionless form. Eliana couldn't tear her eyes from that horrible arrow and she felt as if she could scarcely breathe. And she didn't, until Dr. Buchanan turned to her.

"He's alive yet, barely. I'll see what I can do."

Eliana nodded, her face white, her lips pressed tightly together. She wanted to scream or burst into tears or... or anything... but she couldn't. She felt numb.

"Someone should go down to Stewart's and warn them," she said in a low, unsteady voice.

"I'll go," someone answered quietly and she turned to see John, looking down at her in concern. Eliana did not rise from where she had fallen to her knees at the rider's side the moment they had brought him in, but she looked back up at John and smiled weakly.

"Thank you, John. Be careful... please."

He nodded curtly, turned, and strode from the room. The doctor was even then ordering the crowd to leave and they did so reluctantly. All were talking at once, drowning out all sense of logical conversation. Eliana didn't really listen as the flood of people streamed from the house but she caught snatches of remarks anyway.

"Murderous redskins."

"Mean t' kill us all."

"That boy'll die, shore as fate. No one as I've ever heerd has ever survived an Injun attack."

"Can you believe that our own people really kidnapped those poor girls? Why... we ain't any better than th' savages, when it comes to that!"

"Did y'see th' look on that Carter girl's face? There's more to her an' that express rider than meets th' eye."

"Pale as death, she was."

Within a few moments, the only ones left in the room beside Eliana and the doctor where Rachel and Eliana's mother, both of them looking almost sick. The rider was stirring, then writhing with the pain as the doctor began to pull the arrow from the wound. Eliana put her hands on his shoulders, doing her best to hold him still while the doctor removed the arrow. Margaret and Rachel had both turned away from the sight and Eliana herself felt like throwing up when she looked down at her hands and calico skirts covered with blood. But what could be done? There was nothing to do but to toughen up and get the job done.

"The... mail..." the rider groaned and Eliana sat bolt upright, remembering suddenly the pony that stood tied to the hitching post outside the smithy... with the mail bags still on the saddle.

"The mail... gotta... get the... mail... through..."

"You're not going anywhere, Son," Dr. Buchanan spoke firmly, even though he wasn't certain that the rider couldn't understand his words.

"He's right." Eliana said suddenly and the others looked at her in confusion. "The mail has to get through, no matter what."

"But how?" Margaret frowned. "All the men in town are gone now, except the ones that can't go. There is no way to get that mail through."

"There is." Eliana stood, looking steadily, determinedly at her mother. "I'll take the mail through."

"No. Entirely out of the question, Eliana Carter. It's too dangerous... you don't know the route... It's a man's job. Don't even think about it."

"Ma, that mail has to go on. It can't be late... there are hundreds of people depending on the Pony Express and its our duty, as American citizens, to make sure that it doesn't fail."

"But..." Margaret's brow furrowed and her eyes flooded with fear and consternation. "I hold my daughter's life dearer to me than the success of the Pony Express."

Eliana simply went to her mother and put her arms around her. If she couldn't cry before, she was certainly crying now.

"In time of war," she whispered into her mother's shoulder, "the men go off to fight and the women are left to carry on the business best as they can. It's the same way now... the men are gone and the women have to step in because things like this can't stop for anything. I'm not a child any more, Ma," she continued. "I'm a good rider, the route is a straight shot from here to Rock Creek... I've studied the route in the newspaper maps. And as for danger... I can take the rider's six shooters. He won't be needing them... till I get back... at least..." her voice trailed off.

"What can I say?" Margaret looked to Dr. Buchanan with a gesture of helplessness.

"Let her go," he smiled, looking up briefly from his patient. "You should be mighty proud of your daughter, Mrs. Carter. She's got more courage than any girl I've ever known."

"Be careful, Ellie," Rachel pressed her friend's hand with a smile in spite of the worry in her eyes. "I want you and Jacob both home safe again... soon."

A Shadow on the PlainsWhere stories live. Discover now