“Talk to her, Marshal. She’s a smart lady. I think ya’ll find out a bunch ya don’t know.”
“I’ll do that, Harris. Thanks for yore help. My deputy and I will take Longfellow to the Territorial prison. If ya can take care of things till I get back I’ll see yo’re paid by the Indian Agency.”
“Will ya be back before the herd gets here?”
“I ain’t knowin’. I understand they graze ’em on Stoney Creek land. If they come, get a tally from the army.”
“The army will bring ’em and go. It was Longfellow’s men who drove the cattle onto Indian land.” Pud’s homely face showed his contempt for the action. “I’m thinkin’ he figured I’d go along with the thievin’, is why he sent me out here. Indians is folks like us. Some good, some bad.”
“You acquainted with the tribe elders?”
“I’ve met up with a few of ’em. The Shoshoni are good drovers, but Havelshell wouldn’t let ’em off the reservation to drive their own cattle.”
“I don’t hold with that. There’s no reason a peaceful Indian can’t leave reservation land. Speak to the elders and tell them that there’ll be changes made here. I’d tell ’em myself if I didn’t have to take my prisoner to Laramie.” Cleve looked toward the porch where Longfellow was shackled. “Does Mrs. Havelshell have relatives nearby?”
“She ain’t got nobody, Marshal, but that little flimflammer. He married her to Havelshell, and they moved her out here to get her outta sight. Havelshell come out here once or twice a month is all. The boy in there is Havelshell’s kid. He’s taken a likin’ to Mrs. Havelshell and her to him. ’Tween the two of us, we’ll see to her.”
“Glad to hear it, Harris. I don’t like to see a woman left to fend for herself. Now, I’ll go have a talk with her.”
As soon as breakfast was over, Ike left to go to Forest City. Travor had offered him a five-dollar gold piece if he could get the preacher back here in two days’ time. Colleen considered that with help from Granny and Cassandra it would take that long to cut down and fit the dress that Jenny insisted she wear for her wedding.
“Please, please take it,” Jenny begged. “The clothes I brought from Baltimore belong to my former life. I’ll never wear them again.”
Marshal Stark and Dillon made ready to ride over to the Agency headquarters. They asked Travor to go along. Beatrice was delighted that Trell was settled in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. She brought him her hairbrush and insisted that he be the one to brush and braid her hair.
“I think Cassandra’s sweet on Dillon,” Jenny whispered to Trell.
“At nine? You Gray girls start lovin’ early.”
“We’re just smart enough to know when we’ve found the right man,” Jenny said, giving Trail’s arm a secret squeeze, “and I’m going to hang on to mine.”
Jenny wanted to go to the Indian camp and see Whit. She left Cassandra at the school and went to fetch the children. They were waiting and all stood as she approached. Whit was nowhere to be seen. Feeling anxious about him, but hesitating to convey her worry to Posy, Jenny led the children back to the school.
For the next few months the children would be taught English. They were more comfortable with Cassandra and watched her with large dark eyes. Whit had taught them to say “teacher.” Cassandra taught them one word at a time, then went back over the words she had taught them the day before. Yesterday they had learned two words—water and food. Today she was aiming for three—eat, sleep, drink.
The children were happily chanting, “Eat, sleep, drink,” when Whit came silently into the schoolroom and squatted on the floor, his back to the wall. Relief swept over Jenny. She went to talk with him, but she could tell that it was an effort to keep his head up and his eyes open.
“Whit? Are you all right?”
“I am here.”
“I can see that you are,” Jenny retorted, irritated at his logic.
“Did you and Head-Gone-Bad … do what you—” She knelt on the floor beside him.
“It is done.”
“I must talk to you.”
“Talk.”
“A marshal came yesterday.”
“White lawman no friend of the Indian.”
“He’s a good man—a friend of Trail’s.” Jenny eased down onto the floor beside the boy. “Whit, he said the agent’s house in Sweetwater burned to the ground. Folks think Havelshell died in the fire.”
“Folks are wrong.” The boy’s expression never changed.
“I told the marshall how Havelshell died. I hope you don’t mind. The marshal said as far as he was concerned the agent died in the fire.”
“He say so now. But later—”
“He has no proof that anything else happened. Just because I told him does not make it so. He thinks he has proof that Havelshell died in the fire.”
“How is that?”
“He has a tin star that Havelshell put in his pocket just before the fire. We don’t have to worry, Whit The marshal said you can leave the reservation anytime you want to. I want you to come live with us at Stoney Creek. Trell says we will build another cabin just for you. You can decide where you want it. The house your father built is yours, but we’ll have to use it while I fulfill the contract so that the land can’t be auctioned off. Whit—Whit?”
She looked at the boy, waiting for his response. His head was up, his hands clasped atop his upraised knees, his eyes half-closed.
He was sound asleep.
Shortly before noon the peddler, McGriff, arrived with crutches for Trell, an order he had filled at the store in Forest City for Jenny, and mail for both Jenny and Trell. McGriff declined the invitation to stay for the noon meal, saying that he had goods to deliver in Sweetwater and would stop again on his way back.
Trell’s letter was from his sister-in-law, Mara Shannon. Jenny’s letters were from her uncle Noah and one from the Indian Bureau. Jenny placed hers on the mantel to read later and helped Granny set the table for the noon meal.
“Mara Shannon and Pack are coming out in a few weeks.” Trell announced when he finished reading his letter.
His smile was lopsided because of the injured muscles in his cheek; however, the salve Granny applied daily had kept the scar from being as disfiguring as expected.
“Mara Shannon says they sent a wire off to Cleve Stark and hoped he would be here by now. She also said she hadn’t heard from Travor; and when she got her hands on him, he’d wish he’d taken time to write.” Trell’s eyes smiled into Jenny’s. “Mara Shannon thinks we’re still fourteen years old. I hope you like her, Jenny. She’s been like a second mother to me and Trav.”
“I’ve no doubt that I’ll like her. What will she say about one of her twins taking on an old-maid schoolteacher and two young girls?”
“She’ll say that if I don’t treat you right, she’ll take me to the woodshed! Jenny?” The grin slid from Trell’s face as if a thought had pulled it off. “When things are straightened out back East, you might regret that you married me and feel that you are … stuck here. I’d not fit in your life … back there.”
Jenny went to him, knelt down beside the chair and took his head in both of hers. She spoke in a low murmur for his ears only.
“Even if I had not met you … and I thank God every day that I did, I’d not go back there to stay. I might take the girls, but I’d come back. Life here is fuller, richer, more challenging. When I was younger I had rosy dreams of the man I would someday marry, how many babies we would have, and what we would name them. I’d about given up on finding the man of my dreams, Trell. Then I met you—”
His dark eyes were so clouded with concern that she wanted to hug his head to her breast. That being inappropriate with Granny nearby, she combed her fingers through his dark hair, moving it back from his forehead.
“My life is here, now. With you.”
At that moment, Beatrice stuck her head in the door and yelled:
“Travor’s back! And … and—”
The marshal and Tr
avor rode into the yard. Travor’s eyes were searching the yard for Colleen. Behind him Dillon was leading a horse with the Reverend Longfellow astride.
“Land sakes!” Jenny hurried back to Trell and handed him the crutches. “Come look. The marshal’s back and he’s got the preacher—handcuffed.”
“Godamighty! That’s McCall with two other fellers and they got … holy shit! They got Longfellow … and he’s hog-tied to the saddle.”
“How can that be, Señor?”
“Be quiet!”
Hartog lowered the glasses and squatted down in the bushes where they had been since midmorning. The only activity until now had been the peddler’s arrival and departure. The Mexican had been on watch for two days while Hartog was sick. The Murphy woman had come out to move the cow to graze farther along the edge of the pond about noon each day. He had planned to be there today. There was good cover, and she’d not know what happened until she was bound and gagged.
He had considered riding in and taking her, but the Mexican had said Ike was there. That old buzzard carried a buffalo gun and didn’t back down from anything. Mendosa had also reported that the day before a couple of riders had come in with McCall. Hartog knew now the riders were lawmen and figured that they must have left early this morning because there had been no sign of them until now.
Hartog surveyed the area. He and the Mexican were well concealed and would wait a while to see what was going on. The preacher had slipped up someplace along the line. He wasn’t sorry they’d caught the tightfisted old bastard. He was so stingy he’d skin a flea for the hide. The men had done the work, taken the risk, and the old skinflint had sopped up all the gravy.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Colleen’s world was suddenly bright and shining. She felt laughter bubbling up at the most unexpected times. She even pushed to the back of her mind the fact that Travor was leaving and she wouldn’t see him for a day or two. There was no room inside her now for anything but the anticipation of a few minutes alone with him.
The marshal had said good-bye and was walking his horse across the grassland to the trail that led to the road going east and west. Dillon was taking Longfellow to the outhouse.
“If it was up to me, ya fat, slimy little toad, ya could piss yore pants,” he muttered. “Yo’re lucky Marshal Stark’s in charge of ya.”
Travor’s horse was saddled. He would ride a short distance with the marshal and Dillon, then swing off and go to the Double T. It had been a week since he had been there. He explained to Colleen, when he told her that he was going, that he and that Trell owed it to Joe Fiala to let him know what was going on: that Travor and his bride would be there in a few days and that Trell would stay at Stoney Creek with his new wife.
When Colleen approached, Travor took her hand, drew her into the shelter of the cow shed and wrapped her in his arms.
“I don’t want to leave—but I’d rather do it now than later. In a couple of days I’m goin’ to tie ya to me and not make a move without ya by my side.” His voice was husky, teasing, tender, and his lips nuzzled her ear.
Her arms tightened around him. “I’m as much yores now as I’ll be in a few days.”
The feeling of her warm body against his and the scent of her filled his head. Travor swallowed hard. He hadn’t believed that a man could love a woman so much that the thought of losing her churned his guts. He didn’t want to be away from her for even a day. His hand moved up and down her back and over her rounded hips, pulling her close.
“It’s goin’ to take a while for me to get my fill of lovin’ my woman,” he whispered passionately and kissed her long and hard.
“How long?” she gasped when she could catch her breath.
“Forty years … or more—”
She returned his kiss hungrily, feeling the pain of longing in her own loins, pressing against him, her breasts tingling as they had done last night when he caressed them.
“Darlin’ girl.” He raised his head so that he could look into her eyes. “Stick close to the house. I’m not thinkin’ anythin’ will happen, or I’d not leave ya. But to be on the safe side, stay close and let Trell know if ya see a rider, even if he don’t come in.”
“Hurry back!”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, you can bet on that.”
“I’ll be waitin’.” She gazed at him, her eyes soft with love.
“Kiss me, sweet. It’s got to last a long time.”
His mouth parted her lips seeking fulfillment there. She clung to him, melting into his hard body. The kiss went on and on, both reluctant to end it.
“Trav!” Dillon yelled. “If it’s takin’ ya all this time to kiss that woman, ya better let me do it.”
Colleen tried to pull away. Travor held her to him.
“Trav! They’re waitin’.” She laughed happily after he kissed her again.
“Let ’em wait. Kiss me again or I’ll tell them ya won’t let me go,” he threatened teasingly.
After the kiss, he put his arm around her and they went out of the shed to where the others waited.
“Took ya long enough.” Dillon sat on his horse, a wicked grin on his face. “I could’ve kissed her in half the time.”
He put his heels to his horse to follow the marshal across the grassland. Longfellow on the tethered horse, his bound hands holding on to the pommel, bounced up and down as the horse trotted away from the homestead.
Travor moved his horse near to where Trell leaned on his crutches. Jenny, the girls, and Granny were beside him.
“’Bye, Granny.” He leaned from the saddle and kissed the old lady on the cheek.
“Go on with ya!”
“Make my girl behave. Take care of our women, Trell. I’ll be back late tomorrow sometime if all is well at the Double T. ’Bye, punkin.” He saluted Beatrice and she giggled. “Thanks for the advice, Cass.” He gigged Mud Pie. The frisky horse turned and took off on the run.
“Make sure you heed it, Trav,” Cassandra called.
“What advice is that, Cassandra?” Jenny asked.
“Oh, this and that. I’m going back to the school. I wonder why Indians don’t eat at noon like we do. Whit said they eat in the morning and again in the evening, or whenever they’re hungry. He’s watching them now to see that they don’t eat the chalk.”
“Do you like teaching, Cass?” Trell asked.
“I do, and it surprises me. I’m seeing them more and more as people and not dirty little urchins. I’m thinking seriously about teaching as a profession, not in a fancy academy, but in a school or perhaps a university for Indians.”
“You’re a good teacher,” Jenny declared, then to Trell. “They pay more attention to her than to me. Honey, I want to read my mail, then I’ll be over,” she told Cassandra.
“Take your time. Whit and I can handle it. They have to learn English before you can teach them to read.”
Trell and Jenny watched Cassandra walk sedately up the path to the school.
“I’ve never seen the like of that little girl.”
“I don’t think anyone else has either. She’s strong or she wouldn’t have been able to endure Charles’s abuse and take care of Beatrice as she did.”
“I hope he comes here,” Trell said tightly. “I hope he tries to take the girls. He’ll get his hide nailed to a tree. If I didn’t do it, Trav would. He’s taken a shine to the girls. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy and content.”
Jenny laughed and hugged his arm.
“Rest a while. I’ll read my letters then go back to the school.”
Colleen came out of the shed. She carried the forked stick Ike insisted she use to poke around for snakes in the high grass that grew around the pond. She walked along the corral fence looking off in the direction Trav had taken.
“Colleen and Travor are completely suited to one another. She’s crazy about him,” Jenny said, watching Colleen.
“Mara Shannon always said that when Trav found the right woman, he’d give her his
heart and soul. He’s found her. And I’ve found mine.”
“I love it here, Trell. I realize I’ve a lot to learn about living in this country. I’ll do my best to be a good wife to you.”
“Sweetheart! I just don’t want you to regret—”
“Shh …” She placed a finger over his lips. “Never, never, never!” Jenny looked quickly around, then placed a quick kiss on his lips.
“You can do better than that,” Trell teased.
“That’s another thing I’ve got to get used to.” Jenny laughed happily. “I’d not dare do such a thing out in the open if we were in Baltimore. But we’re not, thank goodness.”
She kissed him long and lingeringly. He groaned in frustration. He wanted to hold this sweet woman to him but he had to use his hands on the crutches to remain on his one foot.
“In a few days I’m going to touch you all over.” He looked down into her face lovingly. “I’m going to take you to the bunkhouse, lock the door, and not let you out of bed for a week.”
“Mr. McCall!” she exclaimed in mock horror. “You’ve been a very sick man. You shouldn’t engage in … strenuous activities.”
“I’ll take it slow and easy,” he promised, his eyes twinkling.
Jenny moved away from him. “Then rest and get your strength back. You’ll need it!”
Her eyes danced and she couldn’t keep the smile from tilting her lips as she went back to the house. Jenny was so happy that she was scared. She and Trell would live here. Colleen and Trav would be nearby. If she could have chosen another sister from all the women she had known, Colleen would have been her first pick. She and the girls would have a family now to gather around on Thanksgiving, Christmas and other special times.
Granny sat in her rocker sewing on Colleen’s wedding dress. Beatrice played on the floor with Hiram, who was growing out of the puppy stage and would soon be banished to the outdoors.
“Why can’t I go to school?” Beatrice had asked that question a dozen times since the Indian children arrived.
“I’ve told you, honey,” Jenny said patiently. “As soon as the children can speak enough English to start learning the alphabet, you can come to the school.”
Sweetwater Page 36
