“But how would Sutton have gotten access to that information?” Dreamer asked.
Chase shrugged. “If we can answer that, we’ll have the last piece of this puzzle.”
“Did your people ever get their medicine?” Cara asked Dreamer.
“Eventually,” he replied, “though not in time to save my sister’s youngest son.”
Chase looked up in shock. Dreamer had not mentioned this loss before now.
“Miles Sutton has much to account for,” the brave finished quietly.
“What happened after you saw the ambush?” William asked.
The question seemed to lighten the Indian’s mood because he smiled wryly. “I figured the information on the men might be valuable to someone and Chase came to mind. I knew the Tenth was in the Oklahoma territories last summer so I wrote. My letter came back with a note from one of his men. It seemed Mr. Army here had gotten himself sent back to Texas.”
Chase glared across the table. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
Dreamer simply smiled.
In answer to Cara’s puzzled gaze, Chase explained. “The troops had a confrontation with some of Payne’s Boomers who were squatting on Indian land. When the Boomers started gathering to voice their disapproval with the soldiers’ orders, our new fresh-from-West-Point lieutenant got scared and ordered the men to open fire on the Boomers. Everybody in camp knew the college boy didn’t know his ass from a prairie dog hole, so the troops looked to me and the other sergeants for confirmation of this order to fire. We shook our heads no, and they drew down their guns.”
“How many Boomers were there?” William asked.
“Close to nine hundred.”
“Nine hundred?” Cara echoed. “How many men did you have?”
“Not nearly enough. Had the men obeyed the order, more than likely we’d’ve been slaughtered.”
“What did the lieutenant do?”
“Calmed down mostly. After that, probably to save face, he sent me back to Davis. Said he didn’t need anyone from the Tenth undermining his command.”
“I think you did the right thing,” Cara defended. “He could have caused a bloodbath.”
Chase met his wife’s fired-up gaze and replied softly, “Why, thank you, Mrs. Jefferson.”
“You’re welcome.” She saucily inclined her head.
The silent interplay was not lost on the table’s other occupants. Dreamer broke in by grumbling, “Army dog, you do not deserve such a woman.”
Chase smiled. “You’re just mad because I found her first. She’s not blind, either, I hope you notice.”
Blind, Cara thought, bewildered.
“My offer still stands,” the Indian replied cryptically.
“I don’t want your ponies.”
“I’ll give you thirty of the finest this side of the Mississippi.”
“No.”
“Forty.”
“You are serious, aren’t you?” Chase answered with amusement.
“She’ll have fine sons.”
“That she will, but they’ll be my sons.”
“Would you two stop it? I’m not some deaf brood mare.”
“She has great spirit.”
“Great spirit,” Chase acknowledged.
Cara had to look away lest she be burned by the heat in her husband’s eyes.
William said, “I think you gentlemen should continue the story. How’d you find out Sutton’s identity?”
“After the robbers divided the gold,” Dreamer resumed, “they took their shares and separated. I followed one of them to a town on the Colorado border. I caught him coming out of a saloon one night and he happily volunteered the information I needed.”
Writing furiously the whole time, William stopped and looked up, confused. “He just gave you Sutton’s name?”
Chase interjected with dry amusement, “A person with a knife at your throat inspires you to be talkative.”
William nodded and smiled.
Dreamer continued with a gleam in his eye. “I eventually traced Sutton here.”
“Did you confront him with what you knew?”
Dreamer chuckled. “Nope, I couldn’t. When I found him, he was about a raven’s wing away from being beaten to death by one of the Tenth’s finest.” His tone became serious. “That’s the night I learned about what Sutton had done to you, little sister.”
A confused William looked to Cara. “What’s he mean?”
In the ensuing silence, the sure comfort of Chase’s hand rubbing softly at the tension in her back helped ease the painful memories of that time. In a quiet yet clear voice, Cara told William the story.
When she finished, William cursed softly, adding, “An even greater reason to find this bastard. God, I’m sorry, Cara.”
“Thank you, William.”
Chase’s mildly quelling look from across the table said, Let the matter drop. William complied, but Cara knew William; after he’d heard about the tragedy, his desire for justice would be burning with a personal light.
Cara directed her next question to the handsome Lakota. “Did you burn down his saloon that night?”
Dreamer’s smile did not reach his eyes. “At the time, it seemed a fit ending to the revenge my brother was exacting.”
“But, Chase, you said you didn’t know who torched the Lady that night,” Cara reminded her husband.
“I truthfully did not know the night you asked. My Lakota brother didn’t offer that bit of information until just now.”
“I counted coup,” Dreamer explained nonchalantly. “Besides, I knew I could always return and kill him later.”
William looked from the Indian to the soldier in surprise. Neither man seemed the least apologetic.
The talk then moved back to the matter of apprehending Sutton. Chase hoped the banks, Colonel Grierson, and the mighty resources of Mr. Fortune’s Globe would combine forces and there’d be a lot of people standing in line to get a piece of Sutton’s hide.
“Has Sutton been seen?” Dreamer asked Chase.
“Sheriff Polk said he’s been holed up somewhere outside Nicodemus since right after his place burned down, but nobody’s seen him lately.”
“Think he’d come back and try and hurt Cara again?” William’s expression clearly showed the concern he was feeling.
“Not unless he wants to die,” Chase promised.
“Very slowly,” Dreamer added.
They all talked for a few moments longer, then decided a visit to Sheriff Polk would be the best next move. William began to gather up his notes, pens, and ink. Chase gave Cara a pat on the hip and she stood. “You coming?” he asked Dreamer.
“Nope. Now that I’ve done most of the real work, I feel safe leaving the rest to you.”
Chase replied with a sarcastic “Thank you.” “Besides,” the Lakota replied, “watching you makes me miss my wife.”
“Good,” Chase retorted. “I hope she’s put pine needles in your bed mat by now.”
“Such a kind brother.” Dreamer turned to Cara. “If you ever tire of this army dog, remember me.”
Cara chuckled. “But you just said you have a wife.”
“I do, but it’s not uncommon among my people to have more than one.”
“No, thank you,” Cara said, smiling. “I don’t think I’d make a very good second wife. I don’t like sharing.”
The look she turned on her husband held just enough wantonness in it to make Chase dearly wish he could put off going into town.
Watching him, a grinning Dreamer of Eagles said, “You need to step outside.”
“I think you’re right,” Chase confessed.
While Cara and William said goodbye, the two other men went out to saddle their horses.
“You’d better write me,” Cara fussed as she and William strolled slowly out to the porch. Tomorrow he’d be catching the train to Denver.
“I will, and you do the same, and please, be careful. This Sutton sounds like he could be very dangerous.�
��
“Who taught you to shoot a rifle, William?”
“You did, Cara, but you also have a tendency—”
“William, do you see that man sitting out there on horseback?”
He turned to view the waiting Chase. “I do.”
“Then stop worrying. Sutton may be dangerous, but he’s not stupid. I will be careful, though, I promise,” she finished earnestly. She stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. “That’s to keep you safe.”
Astride Carolina, a slightly impatient Chase viewed the chaste kiss and loudly cleared his throat, but Cara ignored him. She pulled her shawl tighter against the cold and kept talking to William.
“A little green around the eyes, are we?” Dreamer asked. When Chase refused to rise to the bait, the Lakota, also astride his horse and waiting, leaned around to look into his face. What he saw was a man not pleased. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, she does love you. She loves him, too, but in a different way.”
“Doesn’t help.”
The Sioux smiled. “He’s got what, five or six years of knowing her on you?”
“About that.”
“What do you expect her to do, act like he’s a stranger?”
“Maybe.”
Dreamer shook his head. “You do have it bad.”
“I already said that.”
“Have you told her?”
Chase swung around in the saddle to glare at him. “What is this? You’re as nosy as an old woman. Weren’t you leaving?”
“I take that as a no.”
Chase turned back around and refused to speak.
“Well, you should. Saying those three little words can work miracles, believe me.”
“This,” Chase remarked, still watching the scene on the porch, “from a man who used to count women like coup. Aren’t you the same one who had a pot of stew dumped on his head because you went to see She Who Sings in a courting robe that had figures of your other conquests on it?”
Smiling, Dreamer could only nod in agreement. Like Cara, his wife, She Who Sings, also possessed great spirit.
“Well, advice not withstanding, I do want to thank you for your help with this Sutton mess,” Chase confessed honestly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. If we get a chance, we’ll come up for a visit in the summer.”
“If your government hasn’t massacred us all by then, you know you and Cara will be more than welcome.”
Chase, not proud of the army’s role in the government’s ongoing destruction of the Indian way of life, thought the Sioux’s bittersweet assessment justified.
The men rode off soon after: Chase and William to town, Dreamer of Eagles north to She Who Sings and their home near Pine Ridge.
When they were out of sight, Cara hurriedly reentered the house and closed the door on the wind and cold. The silence that greeted her, once a friend and comfort during the months she’d lived alone, now seemed alien, almost sad in the wake of the activities and voices of the last two days. She could look over at the kitchen table now and see Chase standing there. The memory of a Sioux brave at the foot of the staircase referring to Chase as an “army dog” would remain, as would the look on William’s face when he walked unannounced into the bedroom upstairs.
As she hung up her shawl on the peg by the door, something else came to mind, self-possessed loner or not, she missed people: Sophie, Asa, the Three Spinsters, her students. She missed the children’s squabbles, the comings and goings. Admittedly, Virginia’s twice-a-week tutoring sessions did much to break up the solitude, as did the occasional stop-bys of Sophie and the Reverend Whitfield’s wife, Sybil. But only now, with the presence of the men still hovering in the room like ghosts, did she come to grips with how terribly lonely she’d really been.
“Cara?”
“Up here, Chase.”
After removing his hat and gloves and placing them on the shelf by the door, he hung his coat on the same peg that held her blue shawl, then climbed the stairs. He’d spent a lot longer time in town than planned; night had fallen hours ago. The information on Miles Sutton had been wired to Colonel Grierson at Fort Davis and to Mr. Fortune’s offices at the New York Globe. In reply, both men expressed pleasure with the progress and pledged to start investigating on their ends. Colonel Grierson also indicated that he’d relayed the findings to the U.S. marshal’s office in Wichita. The colonel requested Chase wait for their further instructions.
The marshal’s office wired back three hours later: Miles Sutton was now wanted for questioning by the U.S. marshal’s office. All the law enforcement officers in the area were asked to assist in his immediate apprehension.
Chase had come upstairs with the intention of telling Cara the good news, and to apologize for the long delay in returning, but when he reached the open door of the bedroom, it became plain his wife had intentions of her own.
The sight of her standing by the fireplace left him speechless.
“William ready to go tomorrow?” she asked.
Chase couldn’t decide which made his blood roar louder: the sultry look in her eyes, or that absolutely wicked nightgown she had on. It was the color of cream and had two thin straps bisecting her shoulders. The bodice, cut low, barely covered the dark crown of her nipples. Between her breasts were two tiny ribbons just waiting for him to untie.
Chase thought he nodded yes in reply to her question about William, but he couldn’t be sure. Behind her, the blaze in the fireplace crackled and spit, filling the room with a rosy glow and a skin-stroking warmth. A mesmerized Chase reached back and closed the door.
She stepped away from the grate and slowly began to close the distance between them. Her unbound hair flowed around her face and down her back. Watching her continue to come closer, he saw with amazed delight that the front of the gown was split from just below the ribbons beneath her breasts to the floor. As she walked, the lace-edged opening undulated and parted, arousing him with teasing glimpses of the bare brown legs beneath.
Any shyness Cara might have harbored over wearing this particular gown vanished before the desire dancing in her husband’s eyes. Knowing she had the ability to elicit such a response filled her with a sensuous power, a power that gave her the confidence to approach him as she’d never done in the past.
When only inches separated her bare toes from the tips of his boots, Cara stopped, reached up, and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. If he noticed her shaking hands, he didn’t comment.
Chase did notice but was too fascinated to care. “You’re awfully forward this evening, Mrs. Jefferson.”
The remark made heat rise in her face, but she didn’t speak. Instead, with the last shirt button above his belt undone, she turned her attentions to the worn leather belt circling his waist. She’d never undressed a man in her life, and it showed as she tried to work the belt free from the denim trousers.
“Here,” he told her, “let me, otherwise we might be at this all night.”
Very late in the morning Chase awakened first. The sunlight mingled with the colors of the bedding, splashing it with patches of brightness. Careful not to jostle the small, quilt-covered form at his side, he left the bed and padded naked over to the dying fire. The chill made goose bumps rise on his skin, but he paid them little mind. He’d experienced colder mornings on the trail.
He placed some kindling on the faint embers. After a few stabs with the poker, it caught nicely. Chase used the same slow care reentering the bed, sliding beneath the sheets and quilts noiselessly, but instead of lying down again, he sat up, back against the headboard, to await Cara’s awakening.
He thought back on another time when he’d watched her sleep; she’d been at death’s door, and he’d been far too worried about her dying on him to derive any pleasure from the sight. But this morning, watching her filled him with a peace he’d never experienced. It seemed natural, right to wake up with her near. Her measured breathing barely ruffled the
silence, quite unlike any army morning when one could count on the noisy chaos of men and beasts to start the day. This quiet she wrapped herself in might take some getting used to, but he thought he could learn to like it.
Cara stirred, as if sensing his thoughts. Her eyes opened and found his, and her sleepy smile garnered one in return. Not ready to face the day just yet, she burrowed back into her quilt cocoon and tried to drift back to sleep.
“Wake up, mariposa. Sun’s up.”
She murmured something unintelligible but didn’t surface.
“Come on, Cara Lee, I’ve been waiting for you for a while.”
Fighting off the lure of sleep, she struggled to a sitting position, pulling the quilts up against the chill, and rubbed her eyes. “Why’ve you been waiting for me?”
She appeared so tousled and vulnerable, he was half tempted to say something like, he wanted her to wake up because her snoring kept shaking the bed, but he didn’t. He had the rest of their lives to tease her; he might have only one chance to tell her the thoughts in his heart at this moment.
His silence puzzled her, and she turned to get a clear view of his face. “Chase?”
“You know, I’ve very rarely seen you wake up.”
“I’m a fright, aren’t I?” She smiled, running a hand over her wild riot of hair. After Chase’s loving last night, braiding it for sleep had been the last thing on her mind. “Surely you haven’t been waiting just so you could see what I look like when I wake up?”
“Well, that, too, but mainly I waited so you’d wake up and know I didn’t leave you last night.”
For Chase, the idea that this woman professed to love him continued both to amaze and to humble him. In tribute to that trust, he’d vowed last night, holding her as she slept, that she would never find him lacking.
Cara reached up and put her hand against his unshaven cheek, once again moved by his sincerity. “You know something. Sergeant?”
He moved the palm across his cheek, then kissed the quilt-warmed center. “No, schoolmarm, what?”
“Beneath all that army crust and arrogance you have a very soft heart.”
“I know. Don’t tell anyone.”
Night Song Page 25
