“Do not fear, little one,” he whispered. “I do not take your virtue. Only I come too close. I cannot hold you like this again, not unless you become my wife.”
He rose slowly, and grabbed up his breach cloth, walking away from me, disappearing into the shelter of the trees along the bank.
It was my fault, I told myself. I put myself in that position, and now Wawee’ne was going to hate me unless I agreed to marry him. I knew he would never touch me like that again. I wondered if I could face a life without the touch of Wawee’ne? I was afraid to find the answer to that question, so I pushed it aside, and got dressed.
I would never bathe with Wawee’ne again, I vowed firmly. It was not fair to him. It was not fair to me. In a couple of days we would be at the gold fields, and he would go on to his village. It was the way it was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to marry a wild Indian, or was I?
CHAPTER FIVE
The next few days, Wawee’ne barely spoke. I didn’t know what to say, and perhaps he didn’t either. He never held my hand at night, and we bathed separately, even though he still slept in the nude. I loved looking at his body, but it was a bitter-sweet punishment to me. I knew I could not touch that body, and he would never touch mine again. I told myself that by the time we got to the gold fields on South Pass I would be in better control of my feelings concerning Wawee’ne. We would part friends, I told myself. In time I would stop thinking about the strength of him, and the look of him, and the way it felt for him to touch me. It had been wicked of me to even put him in that position and I started thinking that maybe those rules of marriage served some purpose, for unmarried couples.
The trail leading to South Pass was now more traveled. We passed others on that trail more often now. They looked at us and the horses, probably wondering why a white boy traveled with an Indian. I was still dressed as a boy, which made me feel better about others seeing me with an Indian. Somehow that felt more acceptable to me, than seeing a white woman in the company of an Indian. They would either think I was his slave or Wawee’ne’s woman, and either position would not be acceptable to them.
When we reached the rise before entering South Pass, we could look down on the city below. It consisted of about fifty houses, several stamping mills, and tents set up by those who had not built a residence yet. Wawee’ne looked at me as we descended the hill that led into the center of the small, booming city.
“Are you sure your father here?” he asked.
“This was the address he sent his letter from. I sent him a letter before I left. He should have gotten it by now.”
“What if he not here?” Wawee’ne asked. “Would you come to my village then?”
“It might take me time to find him,” I told him.
“I must bring the horses to Soldiers at the fort near my village. I not stay. Just follow river to Wind Ridge Valley, if you wish to find me.”
“I will miss you,” I said in a shaking voice.
“I miss you too,” he responded.
I wanted to jump down from my horse and fling my arms around him, only I was afraid if I did that, I would never let go of him. I had to keep my resolve to better my life, not turn into a wife of an Indian living on a reservation. I had heard so many horrible things about the conditions on those reservations.
Wawee’ne gave me one long look and started to urge his horse forward on down the road through the middle of the town.
“Wait!” I called.
He turned to look at me with hopeful eyes.
“Take part of my soul with you,” I said, pulling my braid from my pocket and holding it out to him.
His hand took my offering. It looked like it was shaking as he lifted my braid to his face and buried his nose against my cut off curls. I could almost feel him touching my own curls. Then he placed the braid inside his shirt.
“I will keep your soul next to my heart,” he mumbled.
It hurt too much to watch him as he merely smiled at me and continued on with the horses following him. Bandit looked up at me as though he wanted to encourage me to continue to follow the group. I could not stop the tears from streaking down my face as I watched the back of Wawee’ne receding in the distance, the farther he went. It was all I could do to stop myself from kicking Fire Cracker and tearing off after him, but I restrained myself, the same way Wawee’ne restrained himself from loving me completely, which would have forced me to become his wife. Maybe God would lead me down a different road, if God had anything to do with it, I thought.
The mining town was dry and dusty. It didn’t look like they had had much rain in a long time. The dust settled over me in the same way a hopeless feeling started to settle over me. If I couldn’t find my papa, I didn’t know what my next move should be? I decided to go to the assayer’s office and see if my father had a claim in the town.
I climbed down from Fire Cracker’s back and tied him to the hitching post in front of the office. A man gave a look at my saddle with curiosity.
“Where’d you get that military saddle?” he asked, looking closer at the saddle.
“It was given to me,” is all I said and hurried into the office.
“You’re too late to stake a claim,” the man at the counter said, not recognizing me as one of the town members. “The mines are waning out, and a lot of people are starting to leave. I suggest you go to Bighorn Mountains where more gold is being discovered.”
“I’m not looking to stake a claim,” I told him. “I’m looking for my papa who is supposed to have his own claim here. He is Charles Macalister.”
He started to thumb through some papers.
“You are the second person asking about him today. His claim is on towards the end of the row of tents,” I was told.
“He’s been her for most a year and doesn’t have a house?” I asked.
“Don’t look at me. Ask him yourself when you find him.”
I turned from the office and got back on Fire Cracker. Bandit followed me, as I traveled down the house-lined road until it started turning into tents.
I was almost to the end when I spotted my father, down by the stream, panning. He looked older than I remembered him to be. He had lost that sparkle in his eye he had always used to sway people into buying his wonder drink with. At first, I thought I had found the wrong person. He looked up, but he didn’t recognize me either. I must look more like a boy than I thought. Only after a moment, I think he recognized Bandit and Fire Cracker. He straightened up and started to walk over to where I was.
I thought he would be excited when he discovered I had come. Surely, he must have missed me a little, I thought. He stood, looking up at me, sitting on my horse. His back looked a little hunched from bending over his pan. His battered, dusty hat shaded his eyes. Eyes that didn’t look anything like my eyes, and now he looked less like himself, standing there, gazing up at me.
“How did you get here?” he asked at last.
“I rode my horse,” I told him.
“All by yourself?” he exclaimed. “Where’s your mama?”
“She died, Papa. Didn’t you get my letter?”
“I don’t check for mail. I left that life behind me.
“You what? Didn’t you have any intentions of returning or contacting us?”
Now I was jumping down from my horse, confronting him. I realized I was almost as tall as he was now. He seemed like such a small man to me in more ways than one.
“Didn’t you love us? Didn’t you love Mama? Don’t you love your own daughter?”
He looked at me for a long time, like trying to decide whether to tell me something.
“Your mama and I got married for the wrong reasons. I was trying to help her and then it turned into more than that.”
“More than what?” I demanded.
“She ended up doing something. Something I can’t speak about. Things turned bad when you came along.”
Then he shrugged.
“Only if she is dead…”
He didn�
��t finish.
“What did she do?” I asked. “How did things turn bad? She said something about me having a brother. What did she mean by that? Did she do something to him? Is that what she did?”
He shook his head.
“That was a long time ago. Nothing to do about it now. If you’re staying, you can help me with my claim. It doesn’t yield as much now, but I still find a few nuggets now and then.”
He turned and walked back to the stream and picked up his pan. I couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to tell me anything, and he hadn’t even missed me. He had never planned to contact us again. The horror of it struck me suddenly, and I turned and grabbed Fire Cracker’s rein heading back towards the road, only I ran head-long into a man who wasn’t dressed like the other miners.
He wore fancy clothes with a derby hat. His trousers were stripped and he wore a vest with a gold watch chain leading from one pocket to the other. He was older than I was, but probably not by a lot. What amazed me the most, was when I looked into his eyes, it was like I was looking into my own eyes. They were the same shade as mine and it was the first time I had seen anyone with eyes like I had. I just stood and stared at him and then I noticed that his slicked down hair, when he removed his hat while he stared back at me, was the same shade as my hair. Only he was trying to keep the curls under control with hair paste.
“I beg your pardon,” he said as his eyes searched mine.
“Who are you?” was all I could say in reply. “You have my eyes!”
“Yes, I noticed that. It is quite a strange occurrence to see eyes like yours…which are so much like mine.”
He still looked startled.
“So who might you be?” he asked, after a moment.
“I am Haley Macalister,” I told him.
“Macalister?” His face paled. “I was looking for the Macalister claim. What is your mother’s name?”
I thought that a strange question to ask upon first meeting, but it was under strange circumstances.
“Elizabeth,” I said. “Only she is dead,” I added.
“Lizzy? Lizzy Macalister?”
“Papa called her Lizzy,” I confirmed.
“Was she a school teacher?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“You say your name is Haley. I thought you were a boy at first.”
“I was passing as one while I traveled,” I admitted. “My papa has a claim here. I came to be with him, but now...”
“You sure he is your papa?” he asked.
I just stood there staring at him.
“He’s the only papa I have known,” I admitted. “Who are you to ask me all these questions, and why were you looking for his claim?” I asked, starting to feel indignant at his prying into my personal affairs.
“Maybe I should talk to your father,” he said. “Is that him, down by the stream?”
“Yes,” I acknowledge.
He strode past me, placing his hat on his head again and went down to where Papa was. I could see them talking quietly, and then their voices raised. Soon they were yelling at each other, and to my shock and horror, the man slugged Papa, causing him to stumble backward.
The next thing I knew, the man had come back and grabbed my arm.
“You are coming with me,” he said.
I shook his hand off my arm.
“I don’t even know you. Why should I come with you?” I demanded.
“I will explain, but not here. Bring your horse and dog.”
He took my arm again, as though he feared I would try and run away, and maybe I would have if I wasn’t so curious about his eyes and hair and the questions he had asked me. I obediently followed him down the dusty street. He had been on foot, and I wondered what a fancy dressed man was doing wandering around in a mining town like that?
He stopped in front of a building, which served as a hotel for visitors, and brought me inside after I tied Fire Cracker up and told Bandit to stay. He took me to a table in the small dining room, that no one was using at the time, and sat me down in a chair at one of the tables.
Then he sat across from me, resting his elbows on the table with his chin in his palms and literally sat there staring at me. He was quiet for so long, it started to frighten me. Then he slowly began to speak.
“My name is Patrick McGovern,” he told me. “I am here, merely by chance. I was in the process of selling my mine here in South Pass to someone from California. It was a rich find, but my investment in the mine was short, seeing as how I dislike this stark country and I had invested in it on a whim. I originally come from New York. My parents are well established there, originally from Scotland and bringing their wealth with them when they came to America. Our family has what is called ‘old money’ gained before ever coming to this country. Therefore, my dabbling in mines was more of a hobby than a means of gaining more wealth, even though that is what it has accomplished.
“My father insisted I sell all my holdings here and return home. He is getting up in years and needs me to take over the head of our household there. My wife is patiently waiting for my return. However, while I was here, I heard of a claim owned by a Macalister. That name is very important to me so I went to investigate. Meeting you today has solved a long-standing mystery surrounding my family for the last sixteen or seventeen years. We never dreamed it would be solved. We gave up long ago, but my mother still keeps hoping…”
He stopped and looked at me again, and then reached out and grabbed both of my hands.
“Hoping what?” I asked.
“That her long, lost daughter would be found. We assumed she was dead a long time ago.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, only I was already starting to put the pieces together. The color of my hair, unlike my parents, my eyes, an older brother I had known nothing about. My papa teasing me and saying they found me under a rock, and then that awful altercation between my father and this man, who had eyes like mine. I was afraid to discover the truth about my past.
“I believe you are my long, lost sister, Helen,” he said, looking deeply into my eyes.
“But how?” I asked.
It seemed I did have a brother, I thought, only apparently, he was not related to my mama or papa.
“The woman you believe was your mother, Lizzy Macalister, worked for my parents when I was young and you, my little sister was a baby. She was my tutor and came to give me lessons. Then one day, when my parents were out of town, she left, after giving me my lessons, and we discovered later that Helen was missing as well. Only by the time, we discovered it, we had no way of knowing where she was, or if my tutor was the one who took my sister. When my tutor never returned to give me future lessons, she was the first suspect.”
“My mother mentioned, before she died, that I had a brother who doted on me,” I said in a shaking voice and he squeezed my fingers.
“I did dote on you, Helen. You are my little sister. You have the same color eyes and hair as me. You are the same age as she would be now. That man back there, you called your papa, told me Lizzy couldn’t have children. She got attached to you, while working for my parents, and claimed no one ever paid attention to you. She insisted that the nanny was the only mother you would actually know and she wanted a child so much that she decided to take you. Did she show you love? I thought she was a pleasant enough person when she was working for us.”
“Yes, I believed she loved me, but I don’t think the man I thought was my papa ever did.”
Everything was starting to make a lot more sense now. All the constant moving and the indifference of Papa toward me. He probably started to hate Mama, because of the constant need to keep moving so no one would discover she had me. He had told me things got bad after I came along. It must have been very stressful for him having to stay one step ahead of the people searching for me.
“We loved you more! My mother…your mother… never gave up searching for you. She hired private detectives to look for you. Only whenever they got close, t
he trail would go cold again. I can’t believe I have accidentally run into you here! When I heard someone talking about Macalister’s claim, I had to check before I left the area. That’s why I was standing there when you bumped into me! You are an heiress. A member of a well-acclaimed family. You don’t have to disguise yourself as a boy and travel on your own. I will take you back to New York with me where you belong.”
I took in my breath. On one hand, I felt elated, but on the other, I was frightened. I wouldn’t know how to conduct myself around wealthy society. I wanted to make something of myself, but in my own way, not just suddenly accept an established name and inheritance from people I had never met before.
I thought of Wawee’ne. I would probably never see him again. He wouldn’t even know what happened to me. And yet I had turned down his offer to make me his wife. It was silly to believe I could become an Indian, no matter how much I felt I loved Wawee’ne. However, on the other hand, it seemed unbelievable that I would become a member of a wealthy family living on the other side of the states either. I didn’t know what to say.
“We need to get you out of those rags,” he mumbled. “Only there is nothing very fancy offered in this town. I was going to catch the stage heading back toward Missouri and then take the train on to New York from there, once we crossed the river. Maybe along the way, we can find you something better to wear, but until then, I’ll see if I can at least find you a dress to wear.”
“I just came from Missouri,” I complained. “And I won’t leave my horse or dog behind!”
“They can hitch your horse to the back of the stage. We will stop at stage stops and rest, instead of going straight through so your horse can rest. Once we get to Missouri I will see about putting your horse in a boxcar to transport it the rest of the way to New York.”
Patrick stood up, and came around the table, bringing me to my feet and giving me a hug.
“Mother is going to be so happy. I will send her a wire and let her know I have found you. In the meantime, here is the key to my room. You can use the bath and freshen up, and I will try to find you a dress while I am out.”
Gedi Puniku- Cat Eyes Page 7
