by Al Lacy
The chief looked at McClain.
“As the wagon master, Mr. Place has the authority to accept your offer, Sky Eagle,” McClain said.
Sky Eagle nodded. “When you plan to move on?”
“Tomorrow morning. We must pull out at sunrise.”
The chief nodded again. “Sky Eagle will be here at rise of sun with many warriors.”
“All of us really appreciate that, Chief,” said Chet, offering his hand.
They shook hands Indian-style, then Sky Eagle turned to McClain and shook hands with him again, saying, “Sergeant McClain Reardon is Sky Eagle’s white brother.”
McClain smiled. “I’m honored.”
The chief almost smiled. “Sky Eagle has some warriors watching from hill,” he said, pointing to the hill they had ridden over earlier. “They wait for signal so can come pick up dead warriors.”
“Go ahead, Chief,” spoke up the wagon master.
The young chief turned and waved toward the hill. Four warriors rode in, each leading a riderless pinto. The six dead Cheyenne were draped over the pintos’ backs, and Sky Eagle and his warriors slowly rode away.
Soon people were milling around inside the circle. Some had shattered nerves, but there was relief that Sky Eagle had made the offer and that Chet Place had accepted it. Chet and Ken Place visited the wagons where the wounded men were being cared for.
When Rya climbed into the Keegan wagon, she explained about the Cheyenne escort to Dorothy, who was lying down. Dorothy showed her relief at the news, then they talked about how they had prayed for a miracle while the battle was going on and agreed that God gave the very miracle the wagon train needed by bringing the fighting to a halt.
Dorothy’s lips began to tremble and tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Rya, I know it was God’s time for Burt to die, but … if only … if only—”
Rya took both of Dorothy’s hands in her own. “I know, honey. If only Burt had been saved.”
Dorothy broke down and sobbed.
Rya stroked Dorothy’s head, thinking how hard it was to give comfort to a Christian who had lost an unsaved loved one.
After supper, Chet Place gathered the people together around the central fire and gave them a report on the three wounded men, saying they seemed to be stabilized.
“I want all of you to know,” he said, running his gaze over their faces, “that I’ve told the wives of these men that there’s a good doctor in Fort Bridger, and we’ll be there in two days.”
As Chet walked away from the fire and began talking to people who had questions, McClain noticed that Rya had her hand on her midsection.
Rya smiled at McClain. “Well, darling, I guess I’d better see to Dorothy. Maybe when you walk me to the wagon, we can sneak a good-night kiss.”
McClain’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go for that.”
She took hold of his hand, ready for their short walk to the Keegan wagon.
He gripped it firmly, but when she started that direction, he pulled her to him.
Rya’s eyebrows arched. “Yes?”
“Are you having that pain again?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I saw your hand pressed against your stomach just a moment ago.”
“Oh. I guess I was doing it absentmindedly.”
“So it was hurting you?”
“Well, yes. It still is a little.”
McClain said firmly, “Miss Garrett, when we get to Fort Bridger, you are going to let the doctor there check you.”
Rya noted the tone of authority in McClain’s voice. Smiling through her pain, she said, “Yes, sir!”
McClain chuckled. “You might as well get used to it, sweet lady. When we are husband and wife, I’m going to take good care of you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Dawn was breaking on the eastern horizon when Rya awoke in her bedroll at the foot of the Keegan wagon. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she raised her head and looked to see if Dorothy was still asleep. There was enough light coming through the tattered canvas cover to see that Dorothy’s bed was unoccupied.
Hurriedly, Rya dressed and climbed out of the wagon, feeling quite sure where she would find her friend. As she moved between the wagons, she said, “Please, Lord, give me wisdom as I try to help her.”
Suddenly, she found herself facing Vance Larkin, who had been on watch for the past three hours. “Oh. Good morning, Mr. Larkin.”
“Good morning to you, Miss Rya. You’re probably looking for Mrs. Keegan.”
“Yes. I just woke up and found her bed empty.”
Vance pointed toward Burt’s grave, where Dorothy knelt, her head bent low. “I’ve been watching her. She’s been there for about two hours. Figured she wanted to be alone. You know.”
“Yes. And I appreciate that. But I’d better go to her now.”
Rya made her way toward the grave.
Dorothy heard her footsteps in the grass and turned to see who was coming. When she saw it was Rya, she dabbed at the tears in her eyes and put her head down again.
Rya knelt beside Dorothy and put an arm around her. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
Dorothy turned, buried her face against Rya’s chest, and sobbed.
When the sobbing subsided, and Dorothy was wiping tears and thanking Rya for being such a good friend to her, they heard excited voices in the camp. Both women turned to see Chief Sky Eagle and a large number of warriors riding across the prairie toward the wagon train.
Rya rose to her feet. “We need to get back to the wagon.”
Dorothy nodded, and Rya took her hand to help her up. When Dorothy was on her feet, she paused over the grave for a few seconds, then they walked slowly toward the circle.
As they drew near the wagons, Rya said, “You remember that McClain is driving your wagon?”
“Yes. Bless him.”
“While we’re riding in the wagon seat today, I want to read you some Scriptures that will help you in this difficult time.” Dorothy smiled at her. “I’d like that.”
“I meant to tell you that I asked McClain if Fort Bridger has a store that sells Bibles. He said he heard that Cooper’s General Store carries Bibles. I’m going to buy you a Bible when we get to Fort Bridger.”
“I desperately want my own Bible, honey, but I can buy it.”
“No. I want to present it to you as a gift.”
With tears shining in her eyes, Dorothy said, “You are so sweet, Rya. Thank you.”
Sky Eagle and his forty warriors drew up to the wagon train and were met by McClain Reardon, Chet Place, and a few other men.
Chet explained to the chief that some of the people had yet to finish their breakfast, and when they did, the wagon train would be ready to roll. While he was speaking, he let his gaze take in the forty warriors. “You brought a small army, Sky Eagle.”
From his perch on the pinto’s back, Sky Eagle nodded. “Yes. It is Sky Eagle’s plan to place ten warriors behind wagon train, ten on each side, and ten in front with Chet Place and Sky Eagle riding ahead of them.”
Chet glanced at McClain, grinned, then said to the chief, “I like that plan. Thank you, again, for providing this escort.”
“You can thank Sergeant McClain Reardon, Chet Place. It is because he saved my life that I provide this escort.” He paused. “It is all right if Sky Eagle dismounts?”
“Of course,” said Chet.
As the chief slid from his pinto’s back, he looked at McClain. “I ask favor.”
McClain smiled. “Name it.”
“Sky Eagle wishes to present his white brother to his warriors.”
“Well, all right.”
Taking McClain by the arm, Sky Eagle walked him to a spot where all the warriors would get a good view of him. He explained to them that this was the man who saved him from being killed by a white soldier when he lay wounded after a battle with soldiers from Fort Steele. He then told them that Sergeant Reardon had carried him on his horse all the way to the village so Tal
l Tree could tend to him.
The warriors looked on McClain as Sky Eagle told his story. Some remembered the occasion. Others had heard about it.
Soon the wagon train was moving out with the Cheyenne warriors positioned as planned by Sky Eagle. The chief and the wagon master rode out front.
McClain drove the Keegan wagon. Rya sat next to him with Dorothy at her side.
As they passed Burt’s grave, Dorothy’s eyes were fixed on it, her lips moving silently. Rya gently placed her hand over both of Dorothy’s, which were clasped tightly in her lap.
As the grave passed from view, the grieving widow leaned over the edge of the seat, still looking back in that direction. She breathed a deep sigh—which was almost a groan—and a shudder ran through her. Rya tightened her grip on Dorothy’s hands.
Soon Rya felt the tenseness leave Dorothy’s body.
Dorothy turned, straightened herself on the seat, and looked into Rya’s eyes. Though tears streaked the widow’s cheeks, there was a God-given peace in her aching heart. Dorothy then fixed her eyes on the western horizon where her uncertain future awaited her.
Rya let go of Dorothy’s hands and picked up her Bible. “Let’s read now.”
A thin smile graced Dorothy’s lips. “Yes.”
As the wagon groaned and squeaked on the prairie’s rough surface, Rya showed Dorothy one Scripture after another to give her comfort, strength, and to increase her faith in the Lord’s love and care for her.
Later, when Rya had closed her Bible and put it away, she turned to McClain. “Dorothy and I talked about it last night. We’d love to hear the story of how you saved Sky Eagle’s life.”
19
TWO DAYS LATER, LIEUTENANT CHRIS COOPER was leading his patrol unit of a dozen men along the west bank of Black’s Fork of the Green River, heading due north toward Fort Bridger. The sun was driving its heat down from a brassy sky.
The uneven rooftops of the town were coming into view in the distance as one of the troopers raised a sleeve and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “Lieutenant, since Chet Place’s wagon train is supposed to be showing up any day now, I imagine you’re on needles and pins.”
Another laughed. “Wouldn’t you be, Rex, if you had a mail order bride comin’ your way on that wagon train?”
The others laughed.
The dark-haired lieutenant had just uncorked his canteen. He took a long pull, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and smiled. “Well, gentlemen, I admit I’m on needles and pins. I’m excited that Betty is coming, but I’m somewhat nervous, too.”
Another trooper said, “I think we understand that, Lieutenant.”
Sergeant Keith Morley, who rode next to Cooper, said, “Lieutenant, do you have a picture of Betty? I mean, you keep talking about what a good-looker she is. You must have a picture of her.”
Chris turned around on his McLellan saddle, unbuckled a saddlebag, and took out a small photograph. Flashing it at Morley, he said, “Here, feast your eyes on this.”
The sergeant reached out his hand. “Let me get a close look.”
“Okay, but be careful. It’s the only one I’ve got.”
Morley studied the photograph intently, then looked at his lieutenant. “She really is a looker, isn’t she?”
“Well, pass it around,” came a voice from the column behind. “Let the rest of us see what she looks like.”
The picture was passed around, and each man had a favorable comment about Betty.
Chris was slipping the photograph back into the saddlebag when one of the troopers said, “Lieutenant, look out there!”
There was a wagon train to the north, angling in the direction of Fort Bridger and surrounded by painted warriors.
“Lieutenant, what do you make of that?”
Chris signaled for them to halt as he pulled his binoculars from a saddlebag. “Strange, to say the least.” He quickly raised the binoculars to his eyes.
“What is it, sir?” asked Sergeant Morley.
“I’ve never seen anything like this! Those are Cheyenne, and they’re actually escorting that wagon train. I can make out Chet Place there in the lead, riding beside the one wearing the chief’s headdress. I don’t recognize him. Must be a chief from farther east.”
He ran the binoculars back along the train. “This really is amazing. Some of the people on the wagons are talking to the Indians riding close to them. They all seem to be at peace with each other!” He lowered the binoculars. “Come on. Betty is in one of those wagons!”
As the wagon train neared the area where Chet Place would lead them to make camp, his attention was drawn southward to the cavalry unit galloping toward them.
“We’ve got company, Sky Eagle,” said Chet, pointing toward the dust cloud raised by the galloping hooves.
“Umm,” said the chief, nodding. “Soldiers from Fort Bridger, I am sure.”
“You wait here,” said Chet. “I’ll go meet them and explain my Cheyenne escort.”
Sky Eagle joined those in the train who watched the wagon master galloping toward the oncoming cavalry patrol.
They were about two hundred yards from the wagon train when Chris raised a hand to stop his men as Chet drew near. “Howdy, Lieutenant Cooper!” Chet said.
“Howdy to you. Would you mind telling me what’s going on up there? Who are those Cheyenne?”
“That’s Chief Sky Eagle, from the Fort Steele area.”
“Sky Eagle? Isn’t he Chief Black Hawk’s son?”
“Right, though Black Hawk has died. Sky Eagle and his warriors are escorting my train all the way to the Idaho border to protect us from any other tribes who might attack us, or even some Cheyenne who could have it in mind.”
“How did you manage this?”
Chet grinned. “It wasn’t me who managed it, Lieutenant. It was a friend of yours—Sergeant McClain Reardon, though he’s a civilian now.”
A smile spread over Chris’s face. “He’s riding in your train?”
“Yep. On his way to California to get married to a little gal who’s also in the train.”
“Well, isn’t that something? And you say it was Serg—I mean, McClain who arranged this Cheyenne escort for you?”
Chet took a few minutes to tell the lieutenant and his men how it came about that Chief Sky Eagle and his warriors were escorting the train.
Chris shook his head in wonderment. “So McClain saved Sky Eagle’s life some two years ago, and it resulted in stopping the attack on your train a few days ago and bought you protection through Cheyenne, Blackfoot, and Shoshoni territory. That’s amazing!”
“To say the least!” said Chet.
“Well, it’ll be good to see McClain again.”
Chet chuckled, and his brow furrowed. “But isn’t there someone else in that wagon train you want to see even more?”
Chris’s face beamed. “Which wagon is she in?”
Twisting around in the saddle, Chet looked back at the wagon train, noting that people were out of their wagons, watching him and the army unit. “Start with my wagon and count till you get to wagon number six. Betty’s riding in that wagon with Archie and Della McCrum.”
Chris looked at Keith Morley. “Sergeant, bring the men on in. I’ve got to see Betty right now!”
With that, the young lieutenant put his horse to a gallop and headed for the sixth wagon in the train.
Archie, Della, and Betty were standing together beside the McCrum wagon watching the scene out on the prairie.
“One of them’s riding this way,” said Archie. “Looks like an officer from here.”
Betty’s heart seemed to leap into her throat. “You don’t suppose it’s—”
“I’ve got a feeling it is,” said Della.
As the galloping man in the dark blue uniform drew within about sixty yards, Betty’s hands went to her mouth. “Oh, it is! It’s Chris! He looks just like his picture.”
Archie chuckled. “Seems he’s in a hurry to meet you.”
The Cheyen
ne warriors who were in Chris’s path moved their pintos to make room for him. When he drew to a halt, Betty took a couple of steps toward him.
Dismounting quickly, Chris set his gaze on the comely blond. “Betty!”
She took another step, cutting the distance between them to some ten feet. “Hello, Chris.”
Chris hesitantly opened his arms, and Betty met his embrace. Suddenly he saw McClain Reardon hurrying toward them, sided by a young woman with the sunshine dancing on her auburn hair.
McClain and Chris shook hands, saying how good it was to see each other. McClain introduced Rya, telling him they had not seen each other for fourteen years, then by the Lord’s hand, they met on the wagon train and were going to get married when they reached Sacramento.
Chris congratulated them.
Rya offered her hand to Chris, saying she was glad to meet him.
He took it gently and said, “Miss Garrett, you are getting a good man!”
“Yes,” said Rya, looking at the man she loved. “I know.”
Chet Place and the cavalry unit were drawing up.
Chris said, “Chet will want to get the train closer to Fort Bridger, Betty. May I help you into the wagon seat?”
Betty gave him her hand. Chris helped her up to the seat then reluctantly let go of her. “I’ll see you where the wagon train makes camp near Fort Bridger. I have to report to Colonel Kirkland and attend a brief officers’ meeting, then I’ll be there. I want to take you to the fort to meet my family.”
“I’ll wait anxiously,” she said, smiling.
McClain and Rya returned to the Keegan wagon, and with Chet Place and Sky Eagle out front, the wagon train moved to Chet’s chosen spot just outside the town. There, he announced that they would not hit the trail again until day after tomorrow. He wanted everyone to get some rest.
The Cheyenne warriors found a spot close by and prepared to make their own camp.
The three wounded men were carried into town, and some of the other people left their wagons to buy supplies.
Archie McCrum was one of the men who helped carry the wounded men into town, and Della stayed with Betty, who was expecting Chris. Betty took a few minutes to wash the trail dust from her hands and face and to touch up her hair. Then she slipped out of her brown wrinkled and dusty homespun cotton dress and put on a clean blue dimity dress, dotted with white flowers. She ran a hand over the skirt of the dress and said, “I wish it didn’t have these wrinkles.”
