25 Years Later

“Is that everything?” Ohanzee asked as he put the last crate in the back of the wagon.

“I think so.” Liz tapped her fingertip against her chin as she looked it all over. Her eyes then slid to Ohanzee. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he told her. He’d been staring, and he didn’t mind getting caught.

“What, with all this gray hair?” she asked.

“I don’t care what color it is.” Ohanzee came around the wagon and clasped her waist. Just like the rest of her, it’d changed over the years. She’d brought him two children, after all. “As long as it’s yours, that’s all I care about.”

She kissed him and then laughed again. “You should stop distracting me! We need to get going or we’ll never get there!”

“We don’t have to go.” He nuzzled the side of her neck and nibbled her earlobe. “We could stay here for a little while longer, just the two of us. Things are nice and quiet with the kids gone.”

Liz laughed and gently smacked his arm. “They’ve been gone for quite some time! You can’t keep using that as an excuse!”

“I can if I want to.” He pulled her close so that her body was fully against him. “I love you, Liz. I always have, and nothing is going to change that. No matter how old we get.”

She made a small noise of satisfaction in her throat. “I love you, too, Ohanzee.”

“So does that mean we’re staying one more day?”

“No! It means get in the wagon and start driving!”

As they came around the corner of the wagon, a figure approached on the path that ran between their home and the next farm. It was Danny, Chumani and Adam’s boy. He waved to them as he ran into the yard. “You haven’t left yet!”

“No, but soon.” Just as with his own children, Ohanzee couldn’t help but admire the way Danny’s parents’ features blended together on his face. He could see his sister’s eyes and nose, but Danny had his father’s skin and mouth. “You’re going to take good care of the place for us, right?”

“Yes! Everything will be just fine by the time you get back. Mother wanted me to bring this to you for the road.” He hefted a small box. “Muffins, corn fritters, some sandwiches, and a jug of lemonade.”

Ohanzee helped him get it into the wagon. “Thank you! I’ll probably have that all eaten before we even get out of Minnesota.” He patted his belly.

“I know we already said all our goodbyes last night, but tell your parents we love them and that we’ll be back soon.” Liz hugged Danny. He was just old enough that it embarrassed him, and he blushed.

“Bye!” Danny stood in front of their home, waving enthusiastically as they turned the wagon down the lane and headed out.

“You’re quiet,” Liz noted as they turned onto the road. “Were you just kidding when you talked about staying here? Or did you really mean that?”

He eyed her figure and raised his brows. “I’m always serious about spending time with you. But no, I’m happy to be going. I miss Chaske and Kimi so much, and it’ll be good to see how well they’ve settled in on the reservation.”

Ohanzee let out the bittersweet sigh of a father who had seen his children grow into successful adults who had left the nest. He hadn’t been thrilled when Chaske and Kimi had decided to go to the reservation to teach. He wanted to keep them close by where he could protect them.

But Ohanzee and Liz had made sure they were well educated, and the children wanted to share that with others who might not have the same opportunity. They were charitable, considerate, and intelligent. The true selling point for him was that they would be going together, and so Ohanzee had made his peace with it.

“Then what’s the matter?” Liz pressed.

“I was just looking at Danny and realizing he’s about the same age I was when I lived with Duke,” Ohanzee told her. “He’s so different than I was, though. He’s happy and carefree. He’s smiling all the time.”

“He has a wonderful life with Chumani, Adam, and his siblings,” Liz replied quietly. “He’s not been forced to survive on his own.”

“No.” Ohanzee adjusted his hat against the morning sun. “It makes me happy. I know I don’t look it, but it’s not like that. I had similar thoughts when Chaske was that age, and it’s good to know that things are different for them.”

Liz nodded and scooted a little closer to him on the wagon seat. “Yes. I’ve thought about that, too, every now and then. It’s wonderful.”

“We’ve done well, Liz.” The horses were calm, so Ohanzee balanced both reins in one hand and put the other on her leg. “We really have.”

It was late afternoon by the time they reached their first stop, but Liz gasped as they came over the hill and looked down on the town. “I hardly recognize it! If it weren’t for the bridge and a few other buildings, I’d think it was a completely different town!”

Indeed, Happy Crossing had changed just as much as they had. The bridge had long since been built. The riverport was a throng of ships. The trees and brush that’d always surrounded the little town had been cleared away to make more room for new houses and businesses.

As they rode down the main street, Ohanzee noted that the old inn had been replaced by a fancy new hotel. The general store had expanded, but numerous other stores were now Mr. Duval’s competition.

Ohanzee spotted a painted sign that read, “Elect Cornelius Watts for Mayor!” He nudged Liz and pointed at it. “Now’s your chance. You can jump out of the wagon and go be with the future mayor of Happy Crossing.”

“I wish him well, but I think I’ll pass,” she replied, elbowing him back.

There’d been so much expansion that the bridge crossing was no longer on the edge of town. The woods where they’d once met had been transformed. Some of the land now held rows of large houses. The area closest to the river was a cemetery.

Ohanzee parked the wagon at the gate. He reached up a hand to help Liz down, even though he knew she didn’t need it. He kept a hold of her hand as they walked among the grave markers, moving toward a sparkling monument in white stone.

“Mother and Father,” Liz whispered, reaching out and running her fingers over the carved words that detailed their lives. “It’s been a long time, but it’s still so strange to me that they’re gone.”

He put his arm around her and held her tightly. “My people believe that everyone rejoins the Great Spirit eventually. Those who have passed on are still looking out for us and care about us. They want us to do well.”

“Not so different from what my people believe.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice to think about it like that.”

Ohanzee nodded. “It means we’re never truly alone, even when it feels that way.”

“I think they’d be happy if they could see us now,” Liz said after a minute. “Father had some terrible ideas about things. He didn’t understand the world the same way that I do. But if he could’ve seen me so happy, and if he could’ve seen his grandchildren, I think that would’ve changed him.”

“And your mother?” Ohanzee held her close.

Liz smiled. “She was caught up on manners and reputation, certainly. She would’ve been horrified at some of the things I’ve done. But if she came out to our land and saw the beautiful house you built and the happy home we made together, it would’ve made her heart so happy.”

A few trees had been left of the former woods, and sun dappled shade covered their shoulders as the birds sang overhead.

“Are you all right?” Ohanzee asked after a while. When they were young, when they were building their home and family and still figuring out how to live their lives, Liz had felt the loss of her parents deeply. She’d cried out for her mother during labor, and she’d muttered to herself about her father when she looked over their finances.

But she looked up at him and smiled. “I am, actually. I thought this might be a sad moment. I even put an extra handkerchief in my pocket just in case, but I don’t need it. Happy Crossing was my parents’ place, their passion. They get to stay here, to watch it grow and change.”

“And you?”

“I’m free,” she said with a smile. “It certainly didn’t happen the way I’d have wanted it to, but I’ve had a wonderful life with the most wonderful husband I ever could’ve dreamt of. I’m not held down by the burdens of building a town or running my father’s business. It feels like it was all meant to be this way.”

They turned away from the gravesite, but Liz slowed as they reached the wagon. “Did you want to visit any of the places you used to know? They won’t look the same, but we can still go.”

He shook his head and helped her up into the wagon. “I’ve already thought about it, but there’s nothing for me to see here. The graves of my people have long been swept away in the name of progress. It would be much harder to go there and find that someone had built a house or a hat shop where my mother once rested than it is to simply remember her as she was.”

Liz had been stoic at her parents’ grave, but tears shimmered in her eyes as he helped her into the wagon. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”

“No, it’s all right. Or at least I’ve come to accept it.” He got into the wagon and sat beside her. “I don’t have to go anywhere to think of them. They’ve always been in my heart. I see them every time I look at Chumani, or our children, or our nieces and nephews. I see the way my mother smiled or the way my father moved. They’re still here.”

“Do you think they’d be happy if they could see how our lives have turned out?” Liz asked. She stayed closed to him on the seat, even though there was plenty of room.

The day was warm and humid, but Ohanzee didn’t object. They’d found comfort in each other a very long time ago, and that was one thing that hadn’t changed at all.

“Yes, I think so. Like you said, they might’ve been a little stunned at first, but the most important thing to them would be our happiness.”

Ohanzee turned the wagon away from the cemetery, leaving behind what had once been the section of woods where he and his wife had first met. He also left behind the places where his family had camped and the little hillside cave he’d survived in before Duke had found him. All of it, he was sure, had been obliterated by the town, but in a way he was happy to leave it behind.

He and Liz had made their own way. They’d taken all their suffering and heartache and turned it into something beautiful, something far more remarkable than he thought he deserved at times. No matter how hard some people tried to keep them down, they were resilient. They resurfaced time and again, and now they no longer had to fight.

That knowledge made it much easier to drive back through Happy Crossing and head to the hotel. It helped him stand up tall when he stepped down from the wagon and accompanied his wife into the lobby. It let him ignore the odd stares that he always got, even though many towns had become more accepting of his people than they used to be.

The clerk had them sign the guest book and handed them a key. “There you are. Let us know if you need anything. If you’re looking for places to shop or eat, then we’ve got a whole list! Our little town has really been booming lately. We’ve even got a museum opening up right across the street that’s all about the history of Happy Crossing.”

“Thank you.” Ohanzee took the key, and they settled into their room.  He noticed that Liz kept looking out the window. “What is it?”

“The museum.” She pointed across the street. “I shouldn’t be curious. I shouldn’t care at all, but I do.”

“Then let’s go. We still have a little daylight left,” he suggested.

They made their way across the street. The sign above the door was still in the process of being painted, so it advertised a “useum.” There were no hours posted on the door, but Liz boldly opened the door as she knocked on it.

“Are you open?” she called out into the cool interior.

A young man rushed forward. “Not officially, but come in! We’re still putting some of our exhibits together, and I wouldn’t mind having someone tell me what they think!”

Liz went first with Ohanzee right behind her.

“My name is Jonas,” the young man said. “And you are?”

“Liz, and this is Ohanzee,” she replied.

“Liz! It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. As a matter of fact, that’s a pretty well-known name around here,” Jonas beamed as he brought them to the first display. “The Dupree family founded Happy Crossing, and their daughter’s name was Liz.”

She stared in shock at the framed newspaper article on the wall. Her hand shook as she reached out and pointed at the grainy photograph in the center of it. “Yes, I know. That’s me.”

Jonas laughed until he realized she was serious. He whipped his head back and forth, looking from the photograph to her and then back again. “Are you pulling my leg?”

Liz smiled sadly. “No, I’m not. That’s me, and those are my parents.”

“My goodness,” Jonas breathed. “Then you might not want to see the next part, ma’am.”

“No, that’s fine.” Liz boldly walked forward to the next display, which was all about the fire that had taken her house and the downfall of the Duprees. Her eyes flickered over the few belongings that’d been salvaged from the remains of the house, including a vase and a pocket watch.

“Pardon me for asking, but do you think you’d like to come and speak at the grand opening of the museum in a week?” Jonas asked. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, looking a bit like a begging dog.

Ohanzee said nothing, giving her the space to think and to speak as she wanted to. They were already on their way to South Dakota, and they certainly wouldn’t be back in time for the opening. But if Liz wanted to stay, if she wanted to be a part of this, then he would help make it happen.

“No, thank you,” she said breathily, her voice sad and slow. When Jonas’s shoulder sagged, she started to reach out her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it would be a wonderful thing for the museum, but I don’t think it’s something I could do. There are too many memories.”

The young man bobbed his head and scratched his chin. “I understand. Would you mind looking over a few things here to see if they’re accurate? Or if you have anything to add?”

“Yes, I could do that.”

As Liz followed Jonas, Ohanzee trailed a little further behind. He took in the newspaper clippings about the Duprees, including a few about Holden. There was information about the bridge and what a boon it’d been for Happy Crossing. Several families and business owners who were among the first to settle in the town were mentioned, as well.

In front of a much smaller display tucked away in the corner, Ohanzee froze. His teeth clamped together, and a red-hot anger that he hadn’t felt in a very long time swept through his body. “Jonas!” he barked.

The young man’s head whipped around, and he hurried over. “Yes?”

“What is the meaning of this?” Ohanzee gestured at the informational poster and the Native artifacts displayed underneath it.

“Well.” Jonas looked at him and swallowed. “It explains it all right there. The land for Happy Crossing was purchased from the local Sioux to create a key river crossing that significantly expanded trade in the area.”

Ohanzee grunted, irritated at the language about trade and river crossings when that didn’t matter at all to him. “We are not the Sioux. We are the Dakota.”

Jonas gaped at him. “But everyone…I thought…”

“I know what you think. You think what you’re told.” His conversations with Duke, those ancient times that seemed so long ago, came to his mind as though they’d happened yesterday. “Many do, but it’s wrong.”

“I, um, I could fix that,” Jonas offered.

Liz came to stand at his side. She slipped her arm through his elbow and held onto him tightly. She was not a wife who was trying to hush her husband and tell him not to offend anyone. She was standing with him, allying herself with him as she had always done.

“While you’re at it, you need to change the rest of this.” Ohanzee gestured in frustration at the poster. “This land was not purchased. It was stolen. My people were driven off of this land, chased away or killed so that the white men could have it as their own.”

Jonas looked wide-eyed at Liz. Ohanzee thought he could see the realization dawning on him that Ohanzee was accusing her family of such a thing. “I…I’ve never heard that…”

“He’s right,” she said sadly. “As a matter of fact, there was a little bit of my father’s paperwork that survived because it was in the hands of his attorney. I’ve got it at home. It will be some time before I can bring it to you, but I will. People need to know.”

The curator’s eyes got even wider. He sat down on a nearby stool splattered with paint. “Pardon me. I’m just so shocked by this revelation. I was always told that it was a simple and peaceful contract with the Sioux—or rather the Dakota.”

Some of Ohanzee’s anger had abated. “We are told the histories that our fathers and grandfathers want us to hear, whether it’s the truth or not. We believe the things that seem easier and cleaner, but there is a real truth to the beginning of this town that isn’t being told in this museum of yours.”

Jonas nodded. His eyes were distant as he scratched his head and shifted on the stool, still trying to understand what he was hearing. After a moment, he looked up at Ohanzee. “If you have the time, I’d love to hear the real story.”

Ohanzee didn’t need to look at Liz for her opinion. He felt her agreement as though she’d spoken it out loud. Just as he’d have stayed in Happy Crossing for an extra week if she’d wanted, she was happy to put off their supper or spend a little extra time so that Ohanzee could speak his truth. The real truth.

“At one time, this was a peaceful land,” he began.