by Erin Johnson
The chief stopped, but he remained with his back toward his daughter, a symbol of his rejection. Grace walked around to face him, her hands outstretched in pleading. Her words tumbled out. “You can’t turn your back on Sequoyah. She loves you. You’re a family.” Seeing Cheis’s frown, she stopped. Had she said something taboo?
“I not understand you.”
Grace had been talking rapidly, and Cheis struggled with English, but the stiffness of his posture and the rigidness of his face also indicated that he had no desire to hear her words. She didn’t let that stop her. Sequoyah’s future was at stake. She repeated her words slowly, then continued, “I do not know your customs.” She bowed her head slightly, hoping it would be understood as a gesture of humility. “But I know that families belong together.” She swallowed back tears at the thought of her own family.
A flicker of compassion crossed Cheis’s face but it was quickly replaced by sternness. He hadn’t stalked off, so Grace continued, word by slow word. She pleaded Sequoyah and Dahana’s case, describing their love for each other, and added an appeal for Cheis to allow the couple to marry.
He interrupted, his words hard and clipped. “Tarak is good hunter. He care for her. Dahana —” His dismissive hand gesture indicated that he thought the young brave an inferior choice.
Aside from Joe, Tarak was the best hunter in the Ndeh band. Though it pained Grace to say it about the man who considered her an enemy, she had to let Cheis know she understood his view. “Tarak is” — she choked out the words — “an excellent hunter, yes. He would be a wonderful provider.”
Cheis crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. He looked slightly pacified.
“But as a father, you want only the best for your daughter.”
“This is true,” Cheis agreed.
Before Cheis could add that Tarak was the best choice, Grace hurried on. “Dahana may not be the best hunter . . .” She sent an apologetic glance his way, but judging from the way his brows were drawn together in concentration, Dahana was having trouble following the conversation. Cheis grunted in agreement.
“But he has something Tarak lacks.”
Seeing a look of incomprehension in Cheis’s eyes, Grace simplified her words. “Dahana loves Sequoyah. He will care for her well. He will do his very best.” She took a chance. “Do you want your daughter to be happy?”
Cheis waved away her question. “She be happy with good hunter. Have full belly.”
Grace nodded. “Yes, she needs to eat. But she also wants to be with the man she loves.”
“She learn to love Tarak.”
Grace drew in a frustrated breath. How could she make him understand? But before she could speak again, a hand settled on her shoulder. Joe stood beside her. He looked Cheis in the eye. “What Grace says is true.” He launched into a rapid speech that she did not understand, and a faraway look of sadness entered Cheis’s eyes. He stared down at the ground, his head bowed. When he responded to Joe’s apparent question, his voice was husky.
Grace longed to know what was being said, but she was reluctant to interrupt when Joe’s words seemed to be having such an effect. She stood silently, willing Joe to say the right words, the words that would touch Cheis’s heart.
A long pause followed Joe’s speech.
At last, Cheis responded in English. “I cannot.” He moved to step around them and his bent back spoke of his sorrow. Joe tried once more, but the chief snapped out an answer. Grace glanced up, hoping for a translation, and Joe whispered the sentence.
“To elope is taboo.”
The weight of Cheis’s words hung in the air.
Many of the people who had gathered now turned to go, but Grace could not let the matter rest. “You would let this rule come between you and your daughter?”
Cheis gave her a look of pity, as if she were too young and naive to understand. “It is our way.”
“No. Forgiveness is your way.” Grace toned down the shrillness in her voice and continued more softly. “Forgiveness is what you taught me, what you showed me. I broke a taboo, and you forgave me.”
“You did not know.”
She sighed. “Do you love your daughter?”
“I love her much.”
“Then show Sequoyah that by forgiving her.”
He was quiet for a painfully long time before he finally spoke. “I will think on your words.”
Cheis walked toward his kuugh’a heavily and slowly, his shoulders bowed.
Grace had no idea what his decision would be.
CHAPTER 20
The next morning, Cheis emerged from his wickiup with a grave look on his face and called a council meeting of the elders. As usual, Joe joined them. Grace stayed with Sequoyah, who was half-heartedly picking medicinal herbs while throwing nervous glances over her shoulder at the meeting place. Dahana was keeping his distance. Grace was worried about what would happen if Cheis did not unbend his stance. Would Sequoyah and Dahana be told to leave?
She remembered one incident that happened while she was living with the Ndeh: after several warnings, a man who hadn’t cared properly for his ageing parents had been cast out of the band. She’d heard that many who were forced out of the group did not survive, and Grace’s stomach knotted at the thought of her friends being shunned like that. Perhaps she and Joe had done more harm than good.
As time passed, Sequoyah gave up any pretense of work and sat back on her heels, staring off into the distance. Grace’s heart ached for her, desperate to know what the Cheis’s decision was. Finally, a short while later, Joe exited the meeting tent and headed their way, his expression inscrutable. At Grace’s questioning look, he only shook his head.
“I’ve come to get Sequoyah and Dahana.”
At the sound of her name, Sequoyah jumped up, upsetting her basket. She looked ready to cry when she saw the scattered herbs. After Grace reassured her that she’d pick them up, Sequoyah stood wringing her hands. She waited until Dahana appeared with Joe, and then the three of them headed off together. Grace watched as they disappeared inside the kuugh’a, then worked rapidly to keep her mind off her worries. But fears about the stash she’d uncovered near the train tracks also intruded on her concern for Sequoyah. Was it the Andersens? It seemed so likely that it would be, but how soon would they strike? And which train?
Grace was so caught up in her apprehension she almost missed Sequoyah and Dahana leaving the council meeting — but she was thrilled when she saw Sequoyah’s glowing face and Dahana’s broad smile.
Sequoyah raced over and took Grace’s hands. “He say we can be together!”
Dahana added in halting English, “Thank you, Grace.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for you both!” With a quick hug for her friend, Grace wished them both the very best. Looking from Sequoyah’s beaming expression to Dahana’s, she knew they had a wonderful future ahead. She noticed that Tarak was nowhere to be seen around the camp — she wondered how he would react to the news . . .
Grace felt her muscles relax as she realized that things were going to be all right for her friends at the camp. Now she had to get back to town and find out as much as she could about the Andersens and the possible train robbery. She couldn’t risk losing this lead. She looked for Joe but couldn’t find him, and she assumed he was still with the elders. In the meantime, she decided to go prepare Bullet. Hurrying over to the enclosure, she whistled and waited for Bullet to charge across the ground to where she was standing, but then jumped as Joe came up behind her.
“Did you plan to leave without me?” His tone was light, but there was worry in his eyes.
“I have to get back to town. If the Andersen twins have a train robbery planned, I need to stop them.”
“Grace?” Joe turned her to face him. “This sheriff isn’t like Behan. Give him a chance. Talk to him.”
She turned away. “I alread
y have, and I ended up having to catch Plimpton on my own.”
“This is a potential train robbery. He’ll take it seriously, I’m sure of it.” Joe began to saddle up Paint as Grace readied Bullet, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m coming with you,” he said with an air of finality.
Grace wanted to say she didn’t need his help, that he would only be a distraction, but having company on the ride back to town would be nice, and she might need backup — something she couldn’t count on from the sheriff. She remembered her hope to stick to her mission as well as finding a way to be with him too . . .
She was wondering if she might regret her decision, though, when the whole way to town Joe pestered her about talking to the sheriff, until she finally caved in and agreed. When they arrived, Grace tried to put it off by saying she had to hire somewhere to sleep that night, but Joe accompanied her to the saloon while she asked Miz Bessie for two nights in the attic room.
The saloonkeeper looked a bit miffed. “Think you can waltz in here anytime and that room’ll be waiting for you?”
Grace’s heart sank. “It’s not available?” She started to put her money back in her reticule.
“It’s available,” Miz Bessie said grudgingly, holding out her hand.
After she paid, Joe pulled out a small pouch of gold. “I’d also like to pay for a room for two nights.”
Miz Bessie grinned and raised an eyebrow. “You two sharing?”
“If that’s what’s available, I’ll take it,” Joe agreed.
Grace looked at him with wide eyes. With rooms at a premium, it was usual for cowboys to bunk together. But from Miz Bessie’s reaction, it seemed she’d got a different idea, and Grace could see how.
“Humph,” Bessie muttered and looked her up and down. “You always acted like you was too high and mighty for that.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Joe protested. “I think you’ve misunderstood —”
“We’re not sharing, not the two of us!” Grace burst out, her cheeks burning.
“You sure?” Miz Bessie leered at them. “No need for propriety here.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Or are you trying to get out of paying my fee for entertaining gentlemen in your room?”
“We are not sharing a room,” Grace said firmly.
“I meant I’m willing to share a room with other men,” Joe emphasized, “if your rooms are full.”
Miz Bessie folded her arms. “If you say so. I got one available room with two other gents, but if I find out you’re sneaking off to her room,” she said in a threatening tone, “you’ll owe me triple the usual rate. And believe me, I got plenty of spies.”
Grace was still flustered when they walked outside, and she was too embarrassed to look at Joe.
“I’m really sorry.” Joe’s voice was so low she barely caught the words. “That was my fault. I didn’t think properly . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” Grace mumbled, trying to shake off her discomfort.
“Uh . . . so, to the sheriff’s office?” Joe made it into a question, but the tone sounded more like a command.
She sighed but followed after Joe as he headed for the sheriff’s office.
After listening to her story, Sheriff Shaw leaned back in his chair. “Well now, that sounds like a mighty fine piece of detective work, Miss Milton. Thing is, though, we can’t investigate something that hasn’t happened yet.” His patronizing smile grated on Grace. “I will keep an ear out though.”
“You don’t think that pile by the train tracks is suspicious?” Joe asked.
“Could be some miner left it there.”
“Why would a miner need logs?” Grace demanded.
The sheriff shrugged. “To secure a cave roof? Might even be planning to lay some tracks to bring a mining cart or train car in more easily. Who knows?”
“But it’s right near the tracks. That’s not logical. Maybe if I’d found it in the mountains . . .” Grace huffed out a breath.
Sheriff Shaw waved a dismissive hand. “Perhaps he got off the train late at night and didn’t want his supplies stolen.”
Grace clenched her teeth. A train didn’t normally stop in a remote location like that. “So you’re not going to investigate?”
“Like I say — can’t call out a posse for a non-existent train robbery, and no point in sending anyone out to chase down the owner of the goods only to find out he’s a miner. I’ll surely take a look if you can bring me more proof of a train robbery, but —”
Pushing back her chair, Grace stood, cutting him off. “Thank you for your time, sheriff.” She infused her words with tartness. “Guess I’ll have to catch the train robbers myself.”
“Whoa now, if a train robbery is about to happen — and that’s a big ‘if’ — you shouldn’t be foolish enough to get caught in the midst of it.”
Grace was tired of people labeling her actions foolish or foolhardy. She’d caught those other criminals, and she’d catch these robbers with or without the sheriff’s help. But before she could react, Joe leaned forward in his chair. “You have to admit this looks suspicious, Sheriff. Shouldn’t you at least warn the engineers to be cautious?”
“Good idea, son. I’ll do that.”
Grace rolled her eyes — so if it came from a man, it was a good idea?
When they got outside the sheriff’s office, she turned to Joe. “I told you he’d be no help,” she said sharply.
He sighed. “I know. You were right.”
“He doesn’t even care that a robbery might take place!”
Joe took her arm. “Calm down. Look at it from his viewpoint — most of his lawmen are gone, helping out Deputy Clayton. He deals with crimes that have already happened.”
“And he’s worried about looking foolish if it’s not connected with the outlaws.” She stopped suddenly. “Unless he’s in cahoots with them?” She marched down the street toward the railway station.
Joe caught up to her. “What would make you think that?”
“I don’t trust the law round these parts, Joe. Where were they when . . . when my family was being killed? Look at Sheriff Behan, paid off by the Guiltless Gang like a common criminal!”
“Grace . . .”
She was hot with anger now. “Only one thing to do. I’ll stop the holdup myself.”
“Grace!”
She ignored him — his warning tone only increased her irritation. But with Joe close on her heels, Grace stomped along the wooden sidewalk, the planks ringing under her boots. “The first thing I need to do is talk to that ticket seller. Hopefully from speaking to him I’ll be able to figure out which train the Andersens plan to hit.”
But when they finally reached the stationhouse, the man behind the counter only shook his head when Grace described Wyatt Andersen. “I can’t recall everyone who buys tickets and when, girl.”
Grace pursed her lips. “Well, do you know anything about what’s coming in or going out on the trains?”
The man shrugged. “Ain’t any of my business.”
“Please,” she said. “This is important. This man killed my little sister.” Her voice trembled, and Joe stepped closer and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “And now I’m fairly certain he’s planning a train robbery. He has to be stopped.”
“A robbery?” The ticket master blanched and then rubbed his forehead. His eyes seemed to wander for a moment, and he cleared his throat. “Lost my only son to a train robbery only a few years back,” he said, his voice softer now.
“If you can think of anything at all . . . anything special being transported in the next few days that might attract robbers?”
The ticket master stared out at the tracks as if inspecting each railway tie. He was silent for a while and then, after glancing around for other customers, he leaned over the counter and whispered, “I been told they picked the Watkins brother
s for guarding that fugitive because there’s a load of gold bars on that train too.” Following another rapid scan of the platform, he continued, “Hearing the name Andersen reminds me of a story I heard in the saloon the other night. Someone said the Watkins brothers better guard their prisoner well ’cus old ‘Iron Eyes’ Andersen aimed to free him.”
Joe’s eyes bored into the older man’s, shocked. “You sure about that?”
The ticket master spread his hands in an uncertain gesture. “Well, at the time I thought it was only saloon talk. You know how some men brag when they’s full as a tick. For all I can tell, could be a lot of blow.”
Drunk or not, gossip or not, it was the best clue they had. “Do you know which train has gold bars on it?” Grace said urgently.
“The next to come through Bisbee. Two days’ time.”
Grace’s heart dropped as she realized — that was the train Caroline and Emily were due to take to go back East.
“Th-thank you for your help,” she stuttered, thinking hard. She looked over at Joe. “As a matter of fact, can I buy a ticket for that train?”
Joe stared at her. “What are you —” he began.
“I have to be on it,” she said, cutting him off.
“Well, hold me a ticket too,” Joe said to the ticket master. “I may have to come along.”
Grace turned startled eyes in his direction. “Joe —” She stopped herself and paid for her ticket. As soon as they got outside, they turned to one another.
“Grace, if those outlaws plan to rob the train and free the fugitive, they won’t do it without a gunfight,” Joe said, his eyes brimming with concern.
“That’s why I have to stop them. I have to be on that train, Joe. It’s my chance to capture two members of the Guiltless Gang, and . . .” She paused, her heart lurching with worry. “My friends are going to be on that train. I have to protect them, as best I can.”
* * *
A short while later, Grace and Joe were still debating the dangers of her going on the train over dinner in the saloon when Sheriff Shaw strode in. She gritted her teeth when he settled at a nearby table, tipping his hat at her before removing it.
