Eagle’s Song

by Rosanne Bittner

  Abbie sighed. It would be such a long, long trip. She wasn’t sure she was up to it anymore, much as she hated to admit it. She became tired much more easily these days. The least little effort sometimes left her breathless, as though her heart just couldn’t quite keep up. She hadn’t seen a doctor, for she believed in letting nature take its course. She did not doubt the only trouble with her heart was that it had been broken too many times. She welcomed the walk along Ekutsihimmiyo someday, for she knew who would be waiting for her at the end of the Hanging Road to heaven.

  “We’ll see,” she answered Margaret. “If God means for me to see my son once more, He’ll find a way for it to happen.” She turned to Zeke. “I’d like to go to the cabin now.”

  He smiled lovingly. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

  “The old brass bed is still in the main bedroom, Mother,” Margaret told her. “I put clean sheets and quilts on it, and a new feather mattress.”

  Abbie nodded. “Thank you.” Memories came of glorious, fulfilling nights spent in that bed with Zeke Monroe. And she and Swift Arrow had made love in that same bed. She had not lain with a man now for eight years, the last time being that beautiful month she had spent at the reservation with Swift Arrow before he’d left to join the Sioux in their Ghost Dance religion.

  She breathed deeply against the ache of memories and followed Zeke outside, climbed into the wagon and rode to the old cabin. Nathan had come along to help carry in her things. She opened the door, thinking how much better she liked this little place than that big house Zeke had built for his parents, but she would never tell him so.

  Home. She was home. She walked to the ancient rocker that still sat in front of the old, stone fireplace, where she’d sat so many nights over the years with her Bible in her lap, praying for one of the children or for Zeke. She sat down in it and closed her eyes while Zeke and Nathan brought in her baggage.

  “Grandma? You all right?” Zeke asked, leaning close to her.

  She smiled, looking into his handsome, dark eyes. She could see a little bit of Zeke in every one of her children and grandchildren. “I’m fine. I’m home.”

  He smiled, kissing her cheek. “I’m going back to the main house. We’ll come get you for supper.”

  “Never mind. I’ll walk over. A woman my age needs to keep exercising, or I’ll end up sitting down and never getting up again. I’m not that feeble yet, Zeke Brown.”

  He laughed lightly. “All right. Come over about six.” He kissed her again, and Nathan did the same before they both left.

  Abbie rocked, listening to the ticking of the mantel clock. Years. That clock had ticked away so many years.

  “Damn!” Hawk read the headlines again. DR. EDWARD RALSTON, PERSONAL PHYSICIAN TO GOVERNOR MURDERED! “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, sitting down behind his desk. He could hardly believe what he was reading. Dr. Ralston had died from several blows to the head, delivered by thugs apparently bent on stealing whatever money he had on him. Crime was on the rise in Denver, due in part to many jobless people, but also to the fact that many of those in power, and the city’s wealthy, continued to ignore the problems of a city that had grown too fast too soon. The governor had been trying to do something about the situation, but he couldn’t do much alone.

  “ ‘Dr. Ralston leaves behind a widow and seventeen-month-old daughter,’ ” Hawk read. He noticed the article in the Rocky Mountain News was by Joshua, and he wondered if Joshua knew anything about who had committed the crime.

  He threw the newspaper down and walked to a window, three floors up. He was in one of the newer brick buildings, ten stories high, and one of the city’s finest. He watched the busy street below, paved with brick; fancy carriages and coaches moving up and down it; two city cleanup men walking around and scooping up horse dung. Living in the busy, central part of the city, dealing mostly with the rich, it was difficult to realize what was really going on out there, how many desperate people lurked in the city’s back streets.

  Poor Arianne, a baby to care for and no husband. How would she get by without her husband’s income? “The city’s government is to blame for this,” he said aloud. There must be more law and order, more programs to help the poor and jobless. Those in power have to wake up to the facts. He thought about that for several minutes, and the idea that this death was the city administration’s fault kept eating at him. Maybe he could do something about it, and at the same time do something to help Arianne. She would need money, especially with a baby to care for and no parents to run home to.

  He let the thought brew, feeling suddenly restless. He should go and see Arianne, express his condolences. But surely he could do something more. He paced, thinking, feeling sick about the murder. After seeing the honest concern in Edward’s eyes in those few days the man had doctored his great-uncle, he’d come away liking him immensely. No man of Edward’s age and ability should die as he had.

  He threw the paper aside, thinking how awful this must be for Arianne. There had to be a way to help her through this.

  Arianne placed little Joanna in her small bed, glad she had her little girl to help soothe her shattered nerves. If only she and Edward could both have been there for their daughter during her growing-up years. Now the child would have no memory of her father when she was older.

  She fought new tears, wondering if they would ever stop coming, if she would ever get over this. If Edward had not died so violently, perhaps it would have been easier to bear the loss. The thought of those cruel men beating him over the head sickened her, and she wondered what the world was coming to. She also wondered what she should do now. She couldn’t live with Dr. Mead forever. Her brother was now an agent on a Sioux Indian reservation in North Dakota, but in his last letter she’d learned he wasn’t well. He’d sent his condolences and had asked her to come live with him again, but she really did not care to take Joanna to such a remote place.

  She supposed she would have to find work of some kind, although there were few jobs for women, and what would she do with her baby? Without a father, Joanna would need her mother even more than the normal child. Arianne felt so helpless. She’d been in a quandary for six weeks now, and still she had no answer to her dilemma. She had always counted on Edward being there, hadn’t realized how much she loved and depended on him until now. Such a vital young man with such a wonderful future ahead of him, cut down in the prime of life! It was sickeningly cruel. The men who had committed the murder had never been caught, and the citizens of Denver were in an uproar, demanding more law and order.

  She heard a knock at the door then, and moments later Henrietta Mead came to her room to tell her a man had come to see her. “It’s that young attorney we met at the governor’s ball, the Indian one with the strange name of Hawk. I believe you said you knew him when you lived on a reservation with your brother years ago.”

  Arianne could not suppress the rush of joy she felt. A true friend from the past, Hawk represented something stable in her life. “Yes!” She wiped at her eyes. “I’ll go down to the parlor. Would it be all right if I had the maid bring something? Tea perhaps?”

  “Of course, dear.” Henrietta pressed her arm. “You don’t need to ask permission for such a thing.”

  “I know, but I feel as though I’m putting you out. With Edward gone, I just couldn’t afford the house. It took every ounce of our savings to make the down payment. I guess we just thought with the wonderful new job Edward had, money would always be there.”

  Henrietta, a plump, ageing woman with a kind heart, led her out of the room. “Arianne, you need not keep explaining. Dr. Mead was very fond of Edward. That’s why he brought him to Denver. He’ll take care of you as long as necessary.” She sighed. “He’s so upset over this. I worry about him, Arianne, at his age. He feels so guilty for what happened, for bringing Edward to Denver.”

  “My goodness, he shouldn’t.” Arianne suddenly realized how old Dr. Mead was. He could die, and then where would she be? Even Henrietta might b
e in trouble then. She followed the woman down the wide staircase and into the parlor, where Hawk turned from the fireplace to greet her with a sad smile.

  Henrietta left them to give the maid some orders, and Arianne suddenly realized she hadn’t even taken a look at herself in the mirror first. She hadn’t worn any makeup since Edward’s death, mostly because she didn’t care about how she looked, also because she cried so much it was useless to powder or rouge her cheeks. Her hair was drawn back into a plain bun, strands of it falling around her face, and her eyes were puffy from crying. “Hawk! I’m so glad you came.”

  He stepped closer, aching at seeing the drawn look to her, the circles under her eyes. He noticed she’d lost weight. “I thought I’d wait a few weeks before I came to talk to you. I’m so damn sorry, Arianne. This is a terrible waste of life, and you with a little girl to raise. It must be hard for you.”

  She nodded. “I appreciate the flowers you sent to the funeral home.” She turned away. “I’m sure I look terrible. I’m afraid I’m not in shape for a visit.” As a firm hand came to rest on her shoulder, a strange warmth moved through her, a kind of peace, as though she suddenly had nothing to worry about.

  “How you look is the least of my concerns, and this isn’t just a friendly visit to express my sympathy. I want to talk to you about something.”

  She turned to meet his gaze, moved by his handsomeness and the true concern in his dark eyes. She remembered how intense and caring he’d been as a young man, seemingly one in spirit with his horses. “What is it?”

  He urged her to sit down. “I might have a way of awarding you some money. You must be having a hard time of it, and I’m sure it’s a bit awkward having to live here with the Meads.”

  When the maid brought a tray of tea and cookies, Hawk waited until she left before continuing. He sat down beside Arianne on the loveseat, and she poured each of them a cup of tea while she spoke. “How strange that you should come here concerned about money. I was just worrying about that very thing upstairs, as I put Joanna to bed for her nap. I have to find a way to support myself now.” She handed his cup to him. “I won’t take handouts from people. I hope you haven’t come here to give me money, because I won’t take it. I might be a woman with a child and no means of support, but I’ll manage.”

  He smiled as he took the cup. “I didn’t come to give you money. But I figured things would be hard, and Dr. Mead is getting old himself. If something happens to him …”

  She shook her head. “It must be the Indian in you.”

  “What?” He frowned, curious.

  “Oh, that spiritualism or whatever it is your people have—that way of reading other people’s minds or something. Maybe because of our past we’re spiritually connected or something. All I know is I was just thinking about the very things you’re talking about, and suddenly you’re at the door.” She drank some of her tea. “What on earth are you planning, Hawk Monroe? Are you going to offer me a secretarial job? I probably wouldn’t be very good at it. I’ve never done anything like that, and I have a new baby to care for.”

  “I’m not here to offer you a job.” He set his cup down and took her hand. “But I do think I can help you in another way, if you’re willing, and if you’re strong enough to go over this whole crime in public, relive the nightmare of it.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I want to sue the city.”

  Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “What!”

  “Sue the City of Denver, for not doing a good enough job of aiding the needy, finding jobs for them, seeing that they’re housed and fed, bringing more law and order. As far as I’m concerned, this is partly the city’s fault. I think you’re owed some kind of recompense. I want to file a lawsuit on your behalf against Denver. I’m not sure it’s ever been done before, but many people are furious about what happened, and we’d have them on our side. The lawsuit could put enough pressure on the authorities to force them to give you something for your loss, to help support you. At the same time, maybe we’d get some laws and programs that would help clean up this town. What do you think?”

  She was flabbergasted at the suggestion. She rose, pacing for a moment. “I don’t know. People in high places might hate me for doing such a thing.”

  “I don’t think so. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is upset by this. People are afraid to walk the streets, even in wealthier neighborhoods. We can do this, Arianne, I’m sure. It isn’t the money that counts, it’s the principle of the thing, but the money would certainly help you.”

  She folded her arms, facing him. “How much are you talking about?”

  He grinned, rising. “I intend to make a strong point, make this a memorable case. My aunt’s husband, Joshua Lewis, is a top man at the Rocky Mountain News. I know he’ll help by publishing some positive articles about the matter, and all the newspapers are already full of headlines about changes the city needs to make. I think we should try it, Arianne. You being a woman with a young child wins you even more sympathy. I’m going to ask for a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “A hundred thousand!” Arianne gasped. She threw up her hands. “That’s ridiculous!”

  He stepped closer. “You always ask for a lot more than you expect to get. That’s how the system works. You might only end up with twenty, maybe forty thousand. God knows this city can afford it. It used those poor people to bring gold and silver out of its mines, the gold and silver that built this city. It owes them some help, and it owes you some. I’m going to get some cash for you.”

  She shook her head, pacing and thinking. “I can’t believe you’d do this! I mean, you must have friends in high places who will be upset by such a suit. And you being part Indian …” She sighed. “I mean, you know what I mean. You could make enemies.”

  He grinned. “I’m not worried about that. I don’t intend to stay here forever anyway. And my law firm is behind me. I already discussed it with them. I don’t think this will work against us, Arianne. I think people are for this. And as for enemies, my family has been facing and conquering enemies since my grandfather first married my grandmother. There isn’t much we’re afraid of.”

  Old feelings began to touch her heart again. Hawk. Her Hawk. That was how she had always thought of him. So brave. So caring. She stepped closer. “All right. I’m willing.”

  He grasped her hands. “Good!” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I won’t fail you, Arianne. I owe you a little something myself, for the way I treated you just before I left the reservation.”

  She shook her head. “That was a long, long time ago.”

  Their eyes held, both realizing there could have been something between them if not for the tragedy that had taken Hawk away from the reservation.

  I loved you, Hawk Monroe. I still do, in spite of how I loved Edward.

  I think I could love you, Arianne.

  It was there, in the eyes, but this was not the time to speak of such things. Now was the time for mourning, a time to respect the dead and a time for daring to go after the City of Denver. “We’ll win this,” Hawk told her.

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Knowing you, I have no doubt, Attorney Monroe.”

  Twenty-two

  Wolf’s Blood watched his young wife, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her long, black hair hanging to her bare hips, her full breasts a pleasure to touch and behold as she sat over him, a wild, beautiful thing, rocking rhythmically. It had come to the point where most of the time this was the only way he could make love to her. The pain in his joints was worse again, and constant. It was simply too difficult to bed his wife the traditional way, and that hurt his pride. He knew instinctively that this time the pain was not going to get better again. One more winter. That was all he could give her.

  She leaned back again, grasping his forearms as he grasped hers in return, hanging on while she moved in a gentle rocking, taking him inside her moist lovenest. He loved her, hated the thought of leaving her, espec
ially now that they had two children. Little Eagle was nearly eight, and his beautiful little girl, Laughing Turtle, was four. There had been another child, a son who had died two years ago from a coughing sickness.

  The infant’s death had affected Sweet Bird so deeply that it had been many months before she could make love again. Wolf’s Blood understood. He also understood that if they did not live in this remote Indian village in a land where there was no help for people like themselves, perhaps the child would have had the proper medical help and would have lived. This new family of his deserved better, and it was getting close to the time for him to die, before this arthritis killed him the slow way. Who would take care of his wife and children then?

  He studied her naked beauty. Bearing three babies had not changed her exotic radiance. Her skin was still flawless, her dark eyes full of passion, her full lips as fetching as ever. He never wanted her to be lonely or destitute, nor did he want such things for his children.

  He released his life flow, groaning with his own pleasure when he could no longer hold back. Sweet Bird let out a long sigh, leaning down to rest her head beside his on the pillow. Slowly Wolf’s Blood pulled out of her, but they remained lying close. “In the spring I will take you to my mother,” he told her.

  Sweet Bird lay silent for several long seconds. “So soon?”

  Wolf’s Blood kissed her hair. “I have already given you more years than I had thought possible. You have always known this time would come. I do not want to wait until I cannot even be a man to you this way. You are still young and beautiful, but with your father dead now, and the village dwindling away, I cannot leave you here. In this place, not even the government will help you. My family has money now, thanks to my nephew Zeke, and my brother Jeremy. But if you would rather live on a reservation, my brother Jason can probably help you be accepted at one. I hope that one day you will find a good man to love you”—he began to choke up and hesitated for a moment—“as I have loved you.”