The Trees Endure

By Joyce L. Kieffer

In 1901, after three tumultuous years as a student nurse at Johns Hopkins Training School for Nurses and a relationship with a doctor who stole her heart, Rebecca Wagner returns to her family farm and the disappearance of virgin forests surrounding rural McAlisterville, Pennsylvania.

However, everything she holds dear has changed. The hometown sweetheart she had promised to marry may have found someone new, and much of the forests in the Shade Mountains surrounding the farm have been stripped bare. Unwilling to succumb to her fears, she convinces the town doctor to hire her, and ingratiates herself into the hearts of people in the Juniata Valley. But it is her work in the dangerous and primitive lumber camps in the nearby mountains that test her skills and strength. Skills that require her to handle horrific accidents and illnesses that take away life and limb. Strength to travel by horseback through steep mountain terrain in oppressive heat and numbing cold, and stand up to hostile wood hicks who are clear-cutting the very mountains she loves.

What hasn't changed is her desire to use native plants and trees for healing as taught by her mentor, a mysterious Indian woman who lives on the edge of the farm ever since Rebecca was born. Nor the harassment by a rogue lumbermill worker whose threats grow ever more serious.

Ultimately, Rebecca must choose between her hometown sweetheart and the promise of a simple life in the country, or the doctor she left behind in Baltimore and the life of privilege he pledges to give her. However, the secrets she is hiding threaten to upend what she believes about herself, as well as everything she has worked so hard for—including her wish to be the healer she has always dreamed of being.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667843513

Book preview

cover.jpg

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Epilogue

Bibliography

About the Author

The Trees Endure

Copyright © 2022 by Joyce L. Kieffer

This book is a work of fiction. Although many names and places are historically

accurate and gleaned from the author’s ancestors and own life experiences,

any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously.

Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portions thereof

in any form whatsoever. For permission, contact the author at [e-mail].

Print ISBN: 978-1-66784-350-6

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66784-351-w3

Back cover photo printed with permission:

Plate 36 from Wood Hicks and Bark Peelers–the Photographic Legacy of William T. Clark

by Ronald E. Ostman and Harry Littell; Published by The Pennsylvania State University Press: Copyright © 2016. University Park, PA 16802-1003

THE TREES ENDURE

Book Two of The Trees Remember Trilogy

This book is dedicated to the bright and gifted women who historically deferred their interest in nature, science and the environment—and their accomplishments—to men, but nevertheless ignored the barriers imposed upon them and forever changed the way we look at the natural world.

Jane Adams (1860-1935)

Teresa Baker (1977-

Florence Merriam Bailey (1863-1948)

MaVynee Betch (1935-2005)

Erin Brockovich (1960-

Rachael Carlson (1907-1964)

Majora Carter (1966-

Hattie Carthan (1900-1984)

Jasilyn Charger (1998-

Quannah Chasinghorse (2002-

Jane Colden (1724-1766)

Anna Botsford Comstock (1854-1930)

Susan Fenmore Cooper (1813-1894)

Caroline (Carrie) Darman (1888-1971)

Marjory Stoneman Douglass (1890-1998)

Sylvia Earle (1935-

Rosalie Barrow Edge (1877-1962)

Angelou Ezello (1970-

Kari Fulton (1985-

Clare Marie Hodges (1890-1970)

Savonala Savi Horne (1957-

Tara Houska (1984-

Amara Ifeji (2000-

Lisa P. Jackson (1962-

Ayana Elizabeth Johnson (1980-

Lady Bird Johnson (1912-2007)

Verna Johnston (1918-2014)

Robin Wall Kimmerer (1953-

Winona LaDuke (1959-

Graceanna Lewis (1821-1912)

Pinar Sinopoulos-Lloyd (1991-

Joycelyn Longdon (1999-

Rue Mapp (1971-

Jamie Margolin (2004-

Maria Martin (1796-1863)

Kate Marvel (1989-

Ynes Mexia (1870-1938)

Enid Michael (1883-1916)

Margaret Thomas Murie (1902-2003)

Corina Newsome (1993-

Frances Theodora Parsons (1861-1952)

Marjorie Eugene Richard (1941-

Lucy Sistare Say (1801-1886)

Kate Sessions (1857-1940)

Shirley Sherrod (1947-

Suzanne Simard (1960-

Anne Simpson (1989-

Elise Tolbert (1991-

Heather McTeer Toney (1977-

Mary Curry Tresidder (1893-1970)

Miranda Wang (1996-

Irene Grosvenor Wheelock (1867-1927)

Katherine Wilkinson (1983-

Beatrice Willard (1925-2003)

Terry Tempest Williams (1955-

Beverly Wright (1947-

Rhianna Gunn-Wright (1988-

Elizabeth Yeampierre (1958-

Ann Zwinger (1925-2014)

. . . and all those whose names are unintentionally omitted.

Juniata County,

Pennsylvania

1901

Chapter 1

She waited near the edge of the woods, listening for the sound of the wagon that would return her beloved Rebecca back to Juniata County. The Iroquois woman had not seen her since the young woman left the farm for her final year at Johns Hopkins Hospital Training School for Nurses.

Back So Straight remembered when Rebecca left for Baltimore… and when she returned for a brief time to her valley home nestled in the Shade Mountains of Pennsylvania for the last three summers. Each visit brought them closer—a bond between two healers. But now Back So Straight was aware Rebecca was a different kind of healer, one who knew the medicines doctors used, and how to cut out sick parts of the body.

A summer wind spoke softly through the trees on Little Round Top Mountain, an oasis surrounded by patches of barren hillsides once covered with towering hemlock, pine and hardwood trees—and plants and shrubs used by her tribe since the beginning of time. Now, the cutters… the People of The Lie… had taken almost all of them.

She shaded her eyes and looked up. A falcon dove swiftly toward the earth and captured a bird in flight with its strong yellow talons. Dark brown bars spread across the falcon’s wings as it soared toward the horizon. Back So Straight wondered if Rebecca will soar like the falcon, or fly like a bird back to the big city.

Chapter 2

The sound of the wheels on the train tracks drew Rebecca back to the events of the past few months… the exhausting days on the hospital wards… Christopher and the baby they lost… graduation… saying goodbye to her roommate Bertha.

I’m sorry, what where you saying Ma?

I said, are you glad to be coming home?

Well, I think so. I’m not sure what I’m going to do but whatever it is, I need to do nursing somewhere.

There’s lots of time to decide once we get back to the farm and you settle in.

Rebecca frowned and turned toward the window. She didn’t need time to think. She needed a job. She needed to be the healer she worked so hard to become.

I think you should help around the farm until you find something. Elwood squirmed in his seat.

Pop, I didn’t spend the last three years studying to become a trained nurse to work on a farm. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but please don’t ask me to do that. Her voice cracked, her mind’s eye picturing hot days hoeing weeds in the garden, shoveling manure, and cutting oats and hay with a scythe in the sun and bugs. And winter cold that ate through her gloves and stung her face while she mucked the barn and forked hay into the stalls.

Don’t sass me. You have to do something to earn your keep.

In an unusual defiance of her husband, Jane said, Now Elwood, Rebecca can help me in the house until she decides what job to take. Let’s not argue. We’re very proud of our daughter and need to let her be for now.

Rebecca, my friend Jake's uncle is ailing. Maybe he would hire you to take care of him. He has money.

No thanks, brother dear. No private nursing. Not doing the same thing day after day. And probably cooking, cleaning and scrubbing, too. Most people don’t know what a trained nurse is capable of doing, so she ends up being a domestic.

Gary shrugged and resumed looking out the window at the passing landscape. Now and then, he grimaced and pointed to barren mountains on both sides of the Juniata Valley.

Scanning the checkerboard of treeless patches on some of the Tuscarora Mountains, Rebecca felt shocked and sad. She hoped the logging had stopped, or at least slowed down. But Gary was right. The logging had spread to the other side of the Juniata Valley. She absent-mindedly rested her hands on her lap and felt something stiff. Then she remembered her award. There in her pocket was the ivory colored envelope she was given at graduation. She slid her fingernail under the wax seal and opened it enough to glance inside and see a fifty-dollar bill. She took a quick breath and slipped it back in the envelope. Manna for a rainy day.

No one spoke much the rest of the train ride to Mifflin, but her mother held Rebecca’s hand. Now and then, Jane squeezed it and stared at her daughter.

As they approached the Shade Mountains, Rebecca saw more patchwork forests. Tree trunks, some cut two or three feet from the ground and others only a few inches, lined the hillsides. Gouges could be seen furrowing through the ground that led to piles of rocks and branches. The understory was a snarled mess of tangled debris and brown mud. Next to the desecrated forests were oases of lush hemlocks, pine and hardwood trees, their colors blending into a soft green blanket with vertical lines of brown. Rebecca closed her eyes. More cutting than she remembered. More mud. More brown than green.

Her mind drifted again. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, only to be jarred awake with the trainmaster’s announcement for Mifflin. This was it—her final trip home.

As their wagon headed for the farm, she leaned against the wagon seat, her eyes sweeping across the landscape. The late evening shadows drifted down into the Juniata valley. Little brown bats swept across the fields and meadows, their dark wings silhouetted against the iridescent blue sky. She sat sandwiched between her brother and mother in the rear of the wagon, and snuggled against them to keep warm in the cool evening air.

They passed by several villages. Rebecca glanced through the windows of the small houses, their lamps revealing folks sitting in their kitchens and parlors. Shops and stores stood in dark contrast.

When the wagon turned into the lane leading to the farm, she strained to see light from Back So Straight’s little hut on the edge of the farm. Yes. There it was. It flickered when they passed by trees and outlying buildings.

As soon as the wagon pulled in front of the Wagner homestead, Rebecca jumped out and sprinted to the nearby tiny cabin. Before she reached the door, it opened slightly. The dog gave a single bark and pushed through the doorway. Wind bounded to her, tail wagging and body shaking. Rebecca kneeled and put her arms around the dog’s neck, and buried her face in the soft fur.

The Indian woman stood framed by the light streaming through the door. Her black hair flowed loosely down her shoulders and back. Dressed in a long deer hide skirt and high moccasins, the fringes of her beaded blouse hung in a chevron pattern below the neckline. Rebecca thought her mentor looked beautiful.

Welcome home, my child.

Those familiar words brought tears to Rebecca’s eyes. Back So Straight… I… She choked, her throat tightening. I have missed you. They stood together, arms around each other, rocking slowly. The dog whimpered, her nose nudging the young woman’s side.

I said prayers to the Great Spirit for you every day.

And I felt your presence many times, especially when I touched the black stone you gave to me.

Yes. This I know. She lifted a hand to Rebecca’s chin and peered intensely into her eyes. You left a child and came back a woman. But you must go now so you can return to your family. We will speak tomorrow.

Rebecca took a deep breath when she walked into the farmhouse, the familiar scent of pine logs and bacon comforting her. Medicine for her soul. Everyone sat down at the kitchen table where grandma Mary served a simple supper of sliced ham on homemade bread with pickles and mayonnaise, and applesauce and sugar cookies for dessert. Rebecca ate until her stomach ached.

After helping to clean away leftovers and dishes, she was relieved everyone was as tired as she was and went to bed early. Her bedroom was exactly as she left it except for a mason jar of wildflowers on the dresser. She unpacked and placed the carved stone on the crocheted doily on her dresser. A flash of memory of those lonely days following her miscarriage when she held the stone for comfort, took her by surprise.

Rebecca washed her face and hands in the basin and pitcher on her nightstand and crawled into bed. The smell of the clean air on the sun-dried sheets soothed her mind as she curled up around her favorite pillow. Home. But the question of what she will do now that she’s there lingered long after she closed her eyes.

Chapter 3

The familiar sound of saws screeching and whining awakened Rebecca, just as ghosted gray light filtered through the muslin curtains hanging on her bedroom window. The sawmill. How could she forget those sounds? At least the saws hadn’t been shut down because someone got hurt. She pulled the pillow over her ears and tried to go back to sleep. But the crows in the giant hemlock tree outside her window had other ideas.

She dressed in a cotton skirt and blouse and crept downstairs, surprised to discover she was the only one out of bed. A quick stoke of the ashes in the wood stove and a few pieces of firewood later, the kettle began to whistle. A cup of tea. That’s all she wanted this morning before going to the barn to check on Jenny.

Rebecca pulled on a sweater and boots. The weather was damp and cool that early fall morning, but she was eager to see if her horse remembered her. The minute she reached out to touch Jenny’s nose, the horse whinnied and tossed her head. Even the mare in the next stall poked her head through the opening in the rough boards and nickered.

In just a few minutes, Jenny was saddled and ready to ride. Rebecca hugged her knees to the horse’s side and rode her into the barnyard and through the foothills. Jenny responded to her rider’s every signal. Good girl. She remembered her.

When she took a deep breath, the familiar scents of pine and damp earth filled her nostrils. And she could almost smell the oxygen in the air. The trees on the Wagner Mountains seemed larger, denser than when she last saw them up close. Mountain laurel, finished blooming months ago, hugged the side of the mountains like many green and brown arms. The leaves on the tulip poplar trees had a hint of yellow and were beginning to spin to the ground. Dark green hemlocks had shed most of their tiny pinecones, but perky black-capped chickadees and crowned titmouse darted from limb to limb eating the tiny seeds in those that remained. Further into the forest was a large area of oak and maple trees where a Northern Flicker fed on the ground underneath, pecking at ants and beetles.

As Rebecca climbed further up the path to the top of Little Round Top Mountain, she came upon the remains of a porcupine. Some large quills lay in clumps beside the skull. Back So Straight came to mind. She had taught Rebecca that porcupine was a favorite prey of great horned owls.

Further along the trail, under a group of small pine trees, she spied mushrooms poking their round white and brown speckled heads through the moist, leaf-rich soil. They reminded her of the walk to the cave with her friends Maggie and Lilly—and berry picking—when a copperhead snake bit Back So Straight’s dog, Wind. Could that have been three years ago already?

A fine mist began to fall, making it seem colder. Rebecca pulled a scarf out of her pocket and wrapped it around her neck. As she was tucking the ends inside her sweater, she thought she heard a branch snap. She stroked Jenny side and whispered Shhhhh.

Nothing. Then she heard a horse whinny and saw a flash of movement through the trees. A man wearing a dark coat and heavy mountain boots rode toward her. He looked familiar with his mane of curly hair and scruffy beard.

She sat up straight in the saddle and watched him come closer. She recognized him: her old nemesis Gunther Drupp. What do you want? You’re trespassing on Wagner land.

Nothing. Just looking around at this timber.

Well, stop looking. It’s not for sale.

Say’s who?

Thinking she may have to get away quickly, Rebecca turned her horse to face down the mountain. I do. Now get off our land.

I remember you—I haven’t forgotten the time you clobbered me at the Grange dance. Or the times you ordered me around, acting like a boss man.

You have no business up here. Now get going. Rebecca held the reins steady, but her legs were shaking.

Oh, yeah? What about that fella you were dancing with that time? Where’s he?

I… we… none of your business.

He guided his horse to stand facing her. I saved his ass, you know. About a year or two ago. He was stuck in a snowdrift in the middle of nowhere and I pulled him out.

Making a split-second decision, she kicked Jenny’s side. The horse bolted into a gallop. Rebecca bent forward and hung on to her mane, dodging trees and guiding Jenny around rocks as they descended the mountain. She couldn’t tell if Gunther was following her, but couldn’t risk turning around. Her knees hugged Jenny’s belly as she pushed steadily down on the stirrups. Several times her legs brushed hard against a tree and branches flew in her face, but she remembered every turn and steep part of the trail from riding up and down that mountain since she was a little girl.

As the horse reached the end of the foothills Rebecca pulled back slightly on the reins and looked behind her. No one was there. She slowed further, concerned about Jenny, who was panting and blowing snot out her nose. When they reached the farm, Rebecca dismounted and looked back again. Nothing except turkey buzzards circling the fields. She walked the rest of the way to the barn, loosely holding the reins and letting Jenny continue at her own speed.

Rebecca’s back was perspired—but she shivered. The mist had just turned to light rain. How did Gunther know where she was going? Had he followed her?

Chapter 4

The trees gave away their leafy coats as the wind teased the air. Cascades of color fluttered to the earth, adding another layer of ground-making nutrients. Only the greens of hemlock and pine lingered to rob the mountains of their blue-brownness.

Back So Straight listened to the drums and flutes and whistles in the forest. The trees talked to one another as they touched and swayed, their branches embracing. But their warning was dire. Pestilence. Borers. Caterpillars. Beetles. Moths. And worst of all—saws.

They extended their roots to those who were near the dying to strengthen them against the invaders. They stopped their xylem from lifting liquid to the highest leaves and branches to save moisture for those who survived. They sent out signals to warn other trees of impending threat.

But nothing warned them against the saws and axes. They cried out as they fell. The Indian woman held her hands over her ears so she would not hear their wails.

Only a stand of trees too remote from the wagons and horses remained on a rocky edge of the mountaintop. They were small, beaten by fierce winds and stunted from lack of water. But they still surrendered their progeny: pollen… seeds… flowers… cones.

Chapter 5

Bundles of herbs and plants hung from the rafters in Back So Straight’s cabin. Gourds filled with bark, roots, and tubers, and wooden bowls of leaves and dried mushrooms, rested on rough-sawn shelves.

How were they different from the materia medica of drugs at Johns Hopkins, thought Rebecca? And which were better to heal the sick?

Her mentor sat facing her on a soft bear fur draped over the bench near the fireplace. On her lap balanced a tin pail filled with of water into which she had peeled small red teaberries. These berries will soon be ready for tea. Would you like some?

Rebecca smelled the sweet flavor of the berries that stained one’s fingers red. Yes. I haven’t had any teaberry tea since I left for Baltimore.

The Indian woman emptied the stems into the wood stove and placed the pot of water and berries on top. What brought you back? Did you not go to become a healer in the city of Baltimore?

I did complete my studies to be a trained nurse. But I don’t know what to do now, or where to use what I’ve learned. As you know, Dr. Headings and my friend Lilly’s father, Peter North, sponsored me. I think I need to show them I deserved their investment.

The Indian healer poured the bright pink liquid into two small gourds. She handed one to Rebecca and wrapped her hands around the other. There is more to this story than you are telling me, is there not? I saw a troubled look in your eyes when you came to greet me last evening.

Yes, there is. Rebecca took a drink of tea, feeling the warm liquid stream down inside her body next to her beating heart. I don’t know where to begin, but I’ll try. She took a deep breath, then another. I met a doctor at the hospital and gave him my heart. But I didn’t tell Ben. Now he has met another woman. I didn’t plan on loving another man and betraying Ben, but it just happened.

Back So Straight remained quiet, sipping her tea.

This man, his name is Christopher, was very kind to me and showed me the wonder of Baltimore… we saw and did new and exciting things together.

Does this man still love and honor you?

Feeling the gravity of her question, Rebecca hung her head. I think so. But I became with child and lost the baby early. After that happened, he left for Germany. I didn’t say goodbye.

Do you still love this man who left you?

Yes, I think I do. But he seemed to be only interested in resuming his plans when our baby died.

Back So Straight sat quietly again for a long time. Rebecca waited for her to speak. Finally, her mentor said, You have important decisions to make, but you must be careful. When my people were faced with difficult decisions, they consulted the Great Spirit by going to a place that would give them wisdom.

Where did they go?

Just as they did, you will know where this place is when you come to it, but it must be far away from people and distractions—only you and the lessons you will learn.

How long must I stay?

"It may take days. Be prepared to eat and drink little. Your