A Passing Glance

by Amelia C. Adams

  “We’ll be sleeping under the stars and hunting for our food along the way,” Mr. McVey said, cantering up beside him. “I realize there are inns and whatnot, but I’ve been promising Posy a real outing, so that’s what we’re giving her.”

  “I’m all right with that,” Parker replied. He hadn’t prepared to sleep on the ground, but he wasn’t about to complain. The McVeys were doing him a favor, and he wouldn’t be ungrateful for it. “Thank you, Mr. McVey.”

  “Jesse. There’s no need for formality out here—it’s a waste of time, actually.”

  Parker nodded. Hopefully that gave him permission to call Posy by her first name as well.

  As the sun climbed higher, it cast a bright glow on everything, making Parker squint, but the temperature didn’t become uncomfortable. He kept glancing over at Posy, wondering what she was thinking, but her eyes remained focused straight ahead, and he figured she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He wouldn’t push the issue—he’d wait until she was ready, if she ever was. For now, just being near her made him happy.

  They passed through a wooded area, the trees blocking the glare of the sun, and it was a welcome respite. It took a moment for Parker’s eyes to adjust to the dimness, but then he could appreciate the richness of the greens that surrounded them.

  They were nearly through the thicket when Posy lifted a pistol and shot into the bushes, then slid from her horse and retrieved a rabbit, holding it aloft by the ears. “Lunch?”

  Parker blinked. It had all happened so fast, he barely had time to realize what was going on. “Lunch sounds good,” he replied.

  They rode on until they found a spot with enough dirt on the ground that starting a fire wouldn’t be a hazard. Jesse took the rabbit and prepared it while Posy created the fire, and soon, the animal was roasting on a spit of tree branches.

  “I’d like to learn how you did all this,” Parker said, motioning toward the fire and the rabbit. “From killing it to cooking it. I hunt, but you’re so much more efficient.”

  “We’d be glad to teach you,” Jesse replied. “I go out hunting fairly often—mostly for larger game to supply the hotel and restaurants, but I also get rabbits and pheasants. Posy’s very good with smaller game, as I’m sure you noticed.”

  “I did.” Parker glanced over at Posy, who was turning the spit. “I was very impressed.”

  “I don’t know what’s so impressive about it,” Posy said. “It’s just making a meal—this is how it’s been done since the world began.”

  “That’s true, but I’m still impressed. These things take skill, and I’m always appreciative of skill.”

  She gave an acknowledging nod.

  When the rabbit was done, Jesse pulled some tin plates from his saddlebags and pulled the meat apart, giving them each a portion. Parker had never tasted anything more delectable. “This meat is so tender. All the rabbit I’ve ever had is tough.”

  “It’s fresh, and it was cooked properly,” Jesse replied. “By the time a rabbit is transported to a town or a city and then sold, it’s lost some of that freshness.”

  Parker nodded, glancing over at Posy again. He remembered how free and easy it had been to talk with her before he went back home, and now they were two strangers, moving side by side without any connection at all. The awkwardness was palpable, and he didn’t know how to break through it.

  “I’m glad you were able to get away from the hotel,” he said to her.

  “We had three new girls hire on the other day, and they’re experienced, so it wasn’t difficult,” she replied. She came to her feet and walked over to her horse, pulling a canteen off her saddle and taking a long swig. At least she was speaking to him. He’d have to consider that a good sign—it was all he had to go on for now.

  ***

  Parker made himself useful by kicking dirt onto the fire while Jesse and Posy cleaned up the rest of their little campsite. Posy had been second-guessing her decision all morning—maybe she should have sent the two of them off on their own.

  “You could be a little kinder to him,” Jesse said in a low tone as he came up beside her. “He’s trying.”

  “I agreed to come. I didn’t agree to be nice.” She tugged the strap on her horse’s saddle to make sure it was secure. “I’m already doing a lot more than I feel comfortable with.”

  Jesse reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “When we reach the village, I think you need to have a long talk with your mother. This anger you’re carrying . . . she would never approve.”

  “I know that, and I’m angry with myself because of it. And then I look at Nora and everything she’s been through over the last year, and my problems seem so insignificant, and I feel selfish for the way I feel.” Posy rested her hand on her horse’s side. It was a good animal—she didn’t know where Jesse had gotten it, but it was treating her well so far. “I’ve never been so confused before.”

  “No matter how angry he’s made you, no matter how hurt you are, you have the duty and the right to walk on this earth in a way that reflects your soul, and you have a beautiful soul, Posy. Don’t let your anger taint it—that’s a power you’re giving him that he doesn’t deserve to have.”

  “I know. I know.” She growled with exasperation. “All these little speeches you’re giving me—I know. It’s just that the knowing and the doing are two entirely different things.”

  Jesse pulled her in for a hug. “You can do it. Just remember—this is about you. It’s really not about him. You need to move through this for your own peace of mind, for your own wellbeing. He has to take a similar journey for himself, and those two journeys may never intersect. But you’ll both be better people for them.”

  She gave him a quick squeeze and stepped back. “I’ll swallow my pride and try to accept these little olive branches he’s offering me, but I can’t promise anything.”

  Jesse grinned. “That’s a great place to start.”

  After making sure they’d gathered up their things, they mounted again and continued on their way. Posy was tempted not to keep her promise to Jesse—it would be so much easier to pretend that Parker didn’t exist—but she knew she could never disappoint her brother that way. She nudged her horse until she was riding on Parker’s left.

  “Listen,” she said. “This trip will be a lot smoother if we call some sort of truce. I’m willing to do that if you are.”

  “Absolutely,” Parker replied, turning to look at her. “I want to find a way to make things right with you, Posy. I want you to know how sorry I am.”

  She held up a hand. “I’m not quite ready for that—we need a long, long conversation to get that all sorted out, and I need time. But for now, for today, let’s push all that to the side and concentrate on what we’ve come to do.”

  “All right. And when you’re ready for that talk …”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  They rode along together for the next several minutes, neither saying anything, but Posy sensed that the awkwardness had diminished. Thank goodness—she’d practically been suffocated by it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sleeping on the ground was even less comfortable than it sounded. Parker was relieved that Jesse had brought along a spare blanket, but what he really wanted was a mattress. By the time they rode up to Miles’ place, Parker was so stiff, he could hardly move, and he was more than ready to dismount and walk around a bit.

  Miles cast several curious glances in Posy’s direction, but he was more than happy to answer Jesse’s questions about the night the Indians had stolen the horses, down to the way the thieves had been dressed.

  “Then they rode off that way,” Miles said, pointing down the road. “I got off one shot, and I saw one of the men flinch and grab his shoulder. It didn’t slow him down none, though, and not any of the others. They were gone before I could do anything else. Just glad they only got away with five.”

  Jesse nodded. “Is that a busy road?”

  “Gets a fair bit of action every day. T
hirty or forty horses, maybe. It’s the only road that goes that way.”

  “All right. That’ll make things trickier, but not impossible.”

  “Did Dale Murphy and his boys come up with anything?” Parker asked.

  Miles scratched his chin. “They found some hoof prints leaving the road about a mile down, but there was no trace after that. It was like the grass swallowed everything up.”

  “I’d like to speak with Mr. Murphy and hear what he has to say,” Jesse commented, and Parker nodded.

  “I’ll take you out that way. Thanks again for the loan of the horses, Miles. You solved a pretty daunting problem for me.”

  “Glad I could help.” He glanced at Posy one more time before turning and going back inside his house. She hadn’t said a word the whole time they’d been there.

  “Miles was a good friend to my family,” Parker said, for some reason feeling the need to defend the man’s strange behavior. “He’s helped us out a lot of times over the years.” He almost added, “especially after my father died,” but he stopped himself just in time.

  “Where does Mr. Murphy live?” Jesse asked, and Parker led the way.

  Dale showed them the spot where the horse hooves had disappeared into the grass alongside the road. “It was all as clear as day until we got here,” he said, pointing to the ground. “We had prints from unshod ponies right along with prints of horseshoes, but right here, they all vanished like they’d turned into mist. There was one indentation right here where the side of the road met the grass, and that was it. Nothing else.”

  Jesse knelt down and looked at the ground more closely, then shook his head and straightened. “You’ve had a lot of rain down here, haven’t you?”

  Dale nodded. “A lot. It was raining hard when Parker got home, let up for a few days, and then started up again. A real gully washer.”

  “Hard to track what we can’t see.” Jesse turned to Posy. “What do you think?”

  “There’s nothing to follow here—that’s obvious,” she said. “But we know where they veered off the road, and we can use that to our advantage.”

  “That’s what we’ll do.” Jesse turned to Dale. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Murphy. We appreciate it.”

  He was essentially dismissing Dale, which amused Parker because he’d never known anyone to dismiss Dale. The man himself didn’t seem to know what to think either. “Er, yes. I’m glad I could help.”

  “We’ll let you know if we have any other questions,” Jesse added when Dale didn’t budge a step.

  “Of course, and if you find our missing stock, we’d sure appreciate knowing about it,” Dale said.

  “You can count on it.”

  Dale finally mounted his horse and rode away, glancing back over his shoulder a time or two.

  Parker cleared his throat. “So, now that he’s gone, what are you going to do? Is there a secret Indian ritual or something you can’t do if someone’s watching?”

  Posy smirked. “Yes. And you’ll have to close your eyes too.”

  Parker obeyed.

  He opened his eyes again when he heard Jesse laughing. “Oh, that was great,” Jesse said, his hand on his stomach. “Posy, make him do it again.”

  Parker shook his head, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I don’t know how this works!”

  Posy rolled her eyes. “There’s no secret ritual. We’re just going to leave the road and see if we can figure out where they went from here.”

  “Oh.” Now Parker was even more embarrassed. “Okay. I’m kind of disappointed, though—I was hoping for some chanting or something.”

  “I’ll tell you what. If Jesse gets us a deer for dinner, I’ll chant while he skins it. It’s the magical late-summer chant of all dead creatures. You’ll find it quite fascinating.”

  “Yes, I’m sure I will.” Parker swung back up into his saddle, grinning. He could take a little embarrassment if it broke the ice, and Posy was genuinely smiling now. It was definitely worth it.

  They left the road and rode into the grass. The ground angled upward in a gentle hill that crested into a tree line, and they rode along those trees for a short distance before Posy called a halt. “Look,” she said, pointing ahead. Some rocks had been arranged into a circle in the center of a small clearing in the trees. “They might have stopped here for the night. If one of them was injured, they’d want the chance to dress his wound before they went much farther. This spot would have given them cover.”

  Jesse nodded. “You could be right.”

  Parker glanced around. “Or it could have been someone else,” he said. “How do you know it was them?”

  “We don’t know. We’re guessing at this point,” Posy explained. “That’s what you have to do when there’s no solid evidence of another alternative.”

  Parker had to admit, her theory sounded plausible, so he was willing to go forward as though it was a fact.

  “From the way your friend described the Indians, I think they might have been Comanche,” Jesse told Parker. “They’re a traveling tribe, known for being skilled horsemen, and they do raid for additional horses. They’ve had a hard time staying on their side of the territory line—after so many generations of wandering wherever they like, it’s hard to be told that they no longer have that freedom.”

  “Was it hard for the Kaw?” Parker asked.

  Jesse nodded. “Yes, but mostly because of what it represents. The Kaw aren’t as mobile as the Comanche. They tend to build homes and stay for a while, but still, knowing they can only go certain places and must turn around if they go too far . . . it’s a kind of imprisonment. Think for a minute about the railroad and the westward expansion. People are traveling from New York to California in a matter of days on a train—long days, true, but we have that ability now. If you want to live in Oregon or anywhere else for that matter, it’s simple to arrange. But not if you’re an Indian. Westward expansion? No—you have to stay where you’ve been put. And if the herds don’t travel into your territory, you might not get to hunt for food. Several times now, our father has put on his ‘white man’ clothes and left the territory to hunt so the people in the village have meat. They’re just lucky he has that ability.”

  “What happens if an Indian leaves the territory and gets caught?” Parker asked. He’d never once thought about this from the Indians’ perspective, and he was feeling more chagrined by the minute at the way he’d cheered when the boundary lines were created.

  “It all depends on who catches them,” Posy answered quietly. “Some are shot on sight. Some are told to return to their own lands. Others are arrested. There are some men who have made it their lives’ mission to stand guard and make sure that no Indian ever steps one foot over that line. I’ve met some of those men, and I hope I never run into them again.”

  “Are you . . .” Parker looked back and forth between Jesse and Posy. “Are you going to be able to come back to Topeka? If we enter Indian territory, what does that mean for you?”

  She looked away. “We’ll have to be fast.”

  Parker’s heart started to pound. “I didn’t realize what a risk you were taking by coming on this trip. Are you sure we should be doing this?” He turned to Jesse. “Shouldn’t we take Posy back to Topeka? I mean, I can get another horse. This isn’t worth endangering your sister.”

  A smile grew on Jesse’s face, and he glanced over at Posy. “We’ve talked about it,” he said after a moment. “She wants to see her parents, and you and I together can protect her, can’t we?”

  Parker’s hand instinctively curled around his pistol. “Yes. And now that you mention it, she’s also capable of protecting herself. I just . . . If something were to happen on my account, if she—well, if either of you . . .”

  “Chances are that something will happen, but we’ll come out all right,” Jesse replied. “We don’t plan to do anything foolish.”

  Parker shook his head. Now that he was starting to understand the situation more clearly, the whole thing sounded foolish,
but he recognized that he had to trust those who knew more than he did. “All right, but promise me that we’ll head back at the first sign of trouble.”

  “It’s too late for that,” Posy said mildly. “We’ve already had lots of signs of trouble.”

  “We have?”

  “Your friends,” Jesse clarified. “They can’t understand why you’re running around with an Indian girl.”

  Parker opened his mouth to protest, but he realized that he had no defense. He’d caught the looks—he knew the questions they must be asking. “I don’t think they’d do anything,” he said at last.

  “Nevertheless, it’s something we’ll need to keep in mind as we move forward,” Jesse said, and Parker knew he was right. If Miles or Dale felt Posy was a danger, they’d do whatever they had to when it came to protecting their families. And Parker had always felt the same way.

  They continued on, Posy stopping every now and then to look around. “I’m trying to put myself in their shoes,” she explained. “If I’d just stolen five horses, which way would I be the most likely to lead them? Of course, without knowing where these Indians live, it’s almost impossible to guess at their destination.”

  “We’ll be coming on the village before a lot longer,” Jesse added. “I think we need to consult with the men there and see if they’ve heard anything.”

  Another meal over the fire—this time some fish Jesse caught in a stream—and a night under the stars, and then they were riding into Posy’s village. Parker was exhausted—every muscle he had was screaming from the constant riding. Knowing he was about to meet Posy’s parents jolted him awake, however, and his heart was pounding when he was introduced to Abraham and Martha McVey.

  Abraham was dressed similarly to the Indian men in the village, but his coloring was definitely Scottish. He grasped Parker’s hand and gave it a good shake. Martha looked so much like Posy, it was uncanny. She gave Parker a nod, but she didn’t say much.