He sighed and returned to his papers. Right now his problem was helping to keep the peace at Fort Laramie while government representatives made promises and offers that were intended to appease the restless, angry redmen. Only six weeks earlier, a senator’s wife had been killed in a stagecoach accident on the Santa Fe Trail while being chased by Indians. Her poor little son had cried that Cheyenne Indians were the culprits who lifted his mother’s scalp, but the arrows found in the drivers belonged to Comanches. It was not like the Cheyenne to do such raiding. Most whites didn’t know one Indian from another. That made his job more difficult and would create even more problems for the Indians.
His thoughts were again interrupted when a young private came through the doorway and saluted. Danny rose and returned the salute.
“At ease,” he told the man, returning to his seat. “Come in.”
The private entered and stood at Danny’s desk.
“How goes it, Mead?” Danny asked. “Are the Indians quiet?”
“Yes, sir. There’s a little singing and drinking going on, sir, but they don’t seem to be getting out of hand or causing any problems.”
“Good.” Danny returned to his papers. “Thank you, Mead. Go on back out there and keep your ears open.”
The young man hesitated. “Sir?”
Danny looked up at him. “Yes? I thought you were through, Private Mead.”
Mead shuffled his feet. “Well, sir, I just thought you should know there’s … there’s a white woman just outside the fort, sir, dancing with one or two of the scouts … just innocent dancing, Tennessee high stepping, that sort of thing.”
Danny frowned. “I’ve been listening to the fiddle music and some other instrument. Kind of like a guitar or harp or something. But so what? There have been white women around the fort before, from the wagon trains. We have three women here right now.”
“I know, sir, but …” The man hesitated again and Danny set down his quill pen and frowned.
“But what, Mead?”
“Well, sir, the other instrument you heard was what they call a mandolin, and the man who’s playing it is this woman’s husband and … he’s a half-breed, sir. I’m told they live most of the time among the Cheyenne, down on the Arkansas. Don’t you think that’s strange, sir? A white woman living among the Cheyenne?”
Danny leaned back, surprised. “I have to agree with you there, Mead.” He thought for a moment. “You sure she’s all white?”
“Yes, sir. No doubt about it. The scout I spoke with says she usually wears deerskin tunics, like the Cheyenne women, and she and her half-breed husband live in a tipi, and they have two little ones, both of them dark as any Indian. This girl, sir, they say she’s from Tennessee, and so is her half-breed husband, so they say. Something about being a wanted man there.”
Danny frowned, slowly rising from his chair, his heart pounding. “Wanted? In Tennessee?”
“Yes, sir.”
Danny came around the desk and stood beside the private. “Did they tell you the half-breed’s name?” he asked excitedly.
The private looked at him curiously, surprised by the lieutenant’s sudden and intense reaction. He swallowed. “Yes, sir. It’s Zeke, Cheyenne Zeke, better known as Lone Eagle to the Cheyenne.”
Danny’s eyes glistened with tears of hope. “Zeke! Are you sure, Mead?”
“Sure of what they told me, sir.”
Danny turned away, afraid to hope against hope it could be his half brother.
“Excuse me, sir, but … do you know this man?”
Danny took a deep breath to prevent tears from coming and he nodded to the private. “Oh, yes!” he replied in a near whisper. “If it’s who I think it is, he’s my half brother, Private Mead. I’ve not seen him since he left Tennessee, almost twelve years ago!”
Mead’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Brother, sir?”
“Yes,” Danny replied, smiling through tears the private could not see. “He’s the reason I originally came West, Private Mead.” He sighed deeply. “I think I’ll go listen to some Tennessee hoedown music, Private.” He turned and smiled, and the private was touched by the tears in the man’s eyes. “Dismissed, Private,” Danny told him. Mead saluted and smiled.
“Congratulations, sir. I hope it’s the same man.”
“Thank you, Private. So do I.” He returned the salute and Mead left. Danny straightened his uniform and donned his officer’s hat. He felt sweaty with nervousness and took deep breaths to control his excitement, but he said a quick prayer before heading out the door. He walked in the direction of the music.
The small crowd that had gathered around the music makers included the fort’s cook and a soldier’s wife. She whispered to the cook as they watched.
“Do you suppose that young woman is truly married to that … that Indian man?”
The cook watched Zeke for a moment, listening to his mellow voice and the soft music of the mandolin, while the pretty white woman in the blue dress sat beside him on a log, holding a charming small Indian girl.
“Why not?” the stout cook replied. “That ‘Indian’ man is the most handsome specimen I’ve seen in all my fifty years.”
The soldier’s wife frowned. “Martha! He’s an Indian!”
Martha smiled. “He may look Indian, but he certainly doesn’t sound like one. He must at least be half white.”
The other woman shook her head. “That’s even worse!”
“‘I met a girl from Tennessee,’” Zeke sang softly in his smooth, mellow voice, smiling at Abbie as he sang. The music drifted romantically through the night air. “ ‘She was pretty as she could be. Took my heart and won’t set it free … that girl from Tennessee.’”
Lieutenant Monroe walked up behind the crowd to listen, moving quietly toward one of his scouts as the music picked up again and soldiers and scouts laughed and clapped and stamped their feet while Zeke strummed the mandolin and the fiddler behind him moved bow and fingers rapidly as Zeke sang “Big Rock Candy Mountain.”
A trapper bowed to Abbie and tilted his hat toward Zeke for permission to dance with his wife. Zeke just grinned and nodded as he sang the happy song, and Abbie blushed and set little Blue Sky on the log. The trapper took her hands and they side-stepped to the music, while Little Rock clapped his hands and jumped up and down to the music and Blue Sky moved over to cling to her father’s pantleg.
Danny watched, moving up beside a scout who was looking on and waiting for his turn at a dance. The grinning scout turned, surprised to see the lieutenant there.
“Evening, sir!”
“Hello, Boston.”
“Just doin’ a little singin’ and dancin’. The Injuns has been doin’ their version of the same. Just thought we’d make a little white man’s music tonight. The half-breed there, he kin sing either way.”
Danny grinned and watched Zeke, more sure than ever he was his half brother. He turned his gaze to Abbie and grinned more. So, his brother had married another white woman. It was good to know he had found happiness again.
“Purty, ain’t she?” Boston told the lieutenant with a grin.
“Very,” Danny replied, thinking to himself that the girl must be even younger than he, and perhaps eight or ten years younger than Zeke.
“The half-breed got himself one purty lady there,” the scout was saying. “Would you believe she even lives with the Cheyenne a lot of the time, just because her husband there prefers to live with his Indian half?” The scout shook his head. “She must be some woman, givin’ up a white woman’s ways to live like an Indian most of the time. One of the other men says he heard her say this was the first time she’d worn a white woman’s dress in years.”
Danny watched in fascination, glancing at the two children who stood beside their father. “What else do you know about the half-breed, Boston?”
Boston shrugged. “Just that he spent part of his life in Tennessee. And he’s got one hell of a reputation with that big blade he wears. I’ll tell you one t
hing, I pity any of these men here who’d dare try to move in on that little white gal he married or treat her disrespectful. Cheyenne Zeke ain’t a man to mess with. They say he can throw that blade as fast as a good gunman can draw his gun, and he always hits his mark.”
Danny studied Zeke. The white buckskin shirt he wore accented his brother’s handsomeness. The weapons belt he wore at his waist held a sidearm and two knives, one small one and one of menacing size, its buffalo jawbone handle protruding from a large, brightly beaded sheath that obviously held a big blade.
Zeke began to sing a slow tune, and Danny moved to the center of the celebrating as Zeke sang “‘Love, oh love, oh careless love.’” Danny was a tall, well-built, handsome figure in his deep blue uniform, both he and Zeke having inherited their builds from their father, who was a big man. He stepped up to Abbie, and bowed low, the gold, fringed epaulets on his shoulders making him seem even broader and creating a striking, impression.
“May I?” he asked.
Abbie blushed at this surprising intrusion by an officer. She hesitated and looked at Zeke, who stopped his singing. He had not minded the rough-hewn scouts and their innocent dancing with his pretty wife, but this was different. This was a handsome young, blue-eyed lieutenant in an impressive uniform. Perhaps the uniform would turn Abbie’s head. Here was a man who could offer her the kind of life she had given up, and jealousy sprang up in his heart as he looked darkly at the blond-haired lieutenant who sported a neat mustache. The lieutenant tipped his hat and grinned.
“May I dance with your wife?” he asked Zeke.
Their eyes held.
Abbie thought there was something vaguely familiar about the man: he actually resembled Zeke a little when he smiled. A strange silence hung in the air.
“I… I’ll just sit down on this one,” Abbie spoke up, worried about the look in Zeke’s eyes.
“No!” Zeke answered. “Dance with the lieutenant, Abbie girl,” he said rather coldly.
Abbie swallowed and looked from Zeke to the lieutenant, who grinned and removed his hat, handing it over to Boston. He put his hand to Abbie’s waist and Zeke began strumming the mandolin. Abbie looked protestingly at Zeke, but he looked down and began singing again as the lieutenant took her hand and began gently whirling her in slow circles to the music. She was compelled to put her left hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder and follow his steps, while Zeke finished his song.
“Love, oh love, oh careless love …
Just look what careless love has done.”
He sang more, repeating the lines as the fiddler played the tune in a whining, romantic wail and hummed in harmony with Zeke.
When the number was finished, Danny kept his hand at Abbie’s waist, enjoying the game he was playing with his brother, testing Zeke’s jealousy and wondering how long it would take Zeke to realize who he was. Boldly, he bent down and kissed Abbie’s cheek before she realized his intentions.
Abbie’s eyes widened in indignation, and Zeke was immediately on his feet, setting down the mandolin and storming up to the two of them, stepping between Abbie and the young lieutenant, his eyes blazing.
“Appears to me you take advantage of a man’s generosity!” Zeke growled. “Perhaps you’d not be so sure of yourself if I cut off a few of them golden curls, Lieutenant!” He reached for his knife, but several soldiers had already surrounded him, their rifles cocked.
“Zeke, don’t!” Abbie begged.
Danny just grinned. “Put your guns away, men,” he told the other soldiers, his eyes on Zeke’s. “I was just kissing my sister-in-law—welcoming her into the family.”
Zeke’s eyes turned from angry to confused.
“I wish you’d take your hand off that knife, Zeke. This is one hell of a way to greet your little brother after twelve years!”
Abbie’s eyes widened, and Zeke frowned, studying the blue eyes intently.
“Don’t you recognize me, Zeke?” Danny ran a hand over his mustache. “Maybe it’s this thing.” He studied Zeke’s tall, broad frame. “Jesus, I think you’re even bigger than when you left Tennessee, brother. I thought you were through growing back then.”
Zeke stepped back and looked him over. “Danny?” he finally asked.
Danny bowed. “I’ve been looking for you, Zeke, for a good long time. Came out here five years ago to find you … ended up in the Army.”
Zeke glanced at Abbie, who was beginning to smile. He looked back at his brother, his eyes softening and a smile beginning to show. “Danny!” he said, smiling more. “But you’re … you’re supposed to be a kid!”
“I was, when you left!” Danny laughed. “That was twelve years ago!”
Zeke finally broke into a full grin and they grasped hands, teasingly testing one another’s strength as they shook hands, then hugging spontaneously.
“I’ll be goddamned!” Zeke swore, slapping the lieutenant on the back. They both laughed and then stood back to look each other over. “I guess I don’t need to ask how you’ve been,” Zeke laughed. “You look great … healthy … handsome … and what’s with the gold bar, little brother!” Zeke fingered the emblem, while others watched in curious surprise. “And what’s this? A medal of bravery!” Zeke continued, tugging at the striped ribbon.
Danny smiled almost bashfully. “I made the stupid mistake of diving in front of a bullet a few years back down in Mexico, dodged in front of my commanding officer and quite by accident saved his life. Earned myself the medal, and a promotion.”
Zeke firmly gripped his shoulders. “So, you’re a hero, are you?”
Danny shook his head. “Of sorts, I guess.” He glanced at Abbie. “You going to formally introduce me to this beautiful lady I had the pleasure of dancing with?”
Zeke smiled and pulled Abbie close to him. “Danny, this is Abigail. Met her when I was scouting for a wagon train six years ago.” He sobered. “Abbie lost her whole family on the trip and, well, it’s a long story. At any rate, she snared me good.”
Abbie blushed and put out her hand to Danny. The lieutenant eyed her up and down, admiring the way she filled out the bodice of her dress. He grasped her hand. “I’m very glad to meet you, Abbie.”
“And it’s wonderful meeting one of Zeke’s brothers from Tennessee!” she replied. Danny squeezed her hand.
“I’m so happy to see Zeke found someone who—” He sobered and looked up at Zeke, letting go of Zeke’s hand. Their eyes held, and Zeke knew Danny was wondering about Ellen and the murders back in Tennessee. “Let’s go to my office. We have a lot to talk about, Zeke.”
Zeke nodded. “We do, Danny.” He turned and reached down to pick up Blue Sky. “Danny, this is our daughter, Moheya, Blue Sky. And the little boy running over there and howling like a warrior is our son, Hohanino-o, Little Rock. He’s been half-raised by my Cheyenne half brother, Swift Arrow, and he’s all Indian!”
“I can see that!” Both men laughed, but worry shone in Danny’s eyes when he looked back at his brother. “Zeke, if you’re living part of the time with the Cheyenne, you’re going to have a lot of problems.”
“We’re aware of that. Let’s go talk, Danny. You want to know about Ellen, and I want to know what’s in store for my people.”
Danny took Abbie’s arm and started walking toward the fort, while the crowd looked after them in disbelief. An Indian and a fair-haired officer—brothers!
“I’d like to meet your Cheyenne brother, Zeke,” Danny was saying.
“Actually I have three Cheyenne brothers, Danny. But Swift Arrow is the most rebellious of the three. I’m not sure whether he’d think it’s bad luck or good that I have a brother who’s a bluecoat.”
Danny smiled and shook his head. “I hope that doesn’t put you in a fix, Zeke.” He looked at Abbie for a moment as they walked, Zeke carrying Blue Sky and Little Rock running behind them. “I must say, Abigail, you must be some woman, agreeing to desert your natural way of life to live half the time with Indians.”
Abbie smiled bashfull
y. “After Zeke’s experience in Tennessee, he felt it would be best,” she replied.
Danny frowned. “Well, I can tell you must love my brother very much. Not many white women would do such a thing—live in a tipi and all. Most of the soldiers can’t even get their wives to come out here to the fort to live, even though they would have fine quarters. St. Louis is about as far as they’ll go.”
They went inside the office, and Zeke was impressed and pleased to know his “little” brother held such an important position. Danny nervously pulled out chairs for them all, and Abbie sat down hesitantly, feeling strangely awkward and out of place in the dress and sitting on a hard chair.
“I’ll get you some whiskey, Zeke. Good whiskey,” Danny told his brother.
Blue Sky crawled up on Abbie’s lap and put her head on her mother’s shoulder, and Little Rock stood staring around the room, intrigued by the wooden floors, the strange furnishings, and the cabinet full of rifles in the corner.
Danny poured himself and Zeke a drink, bringing the glasses over to his desk. “Abbie, would you like some lemonade? I can have someone fetch some from the cook’s quarters. We have ice for it.”
Abbie smiled eagerly. “Oh, yes! I haven’t had lemonade in a very long time.”
Danny grinned and walked to the door, calling out to someone to bring a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. “We’ll let the little ones try some,” he told her as he walked back to his desk. He sat down behind it, and Little Rock stood behind his father’s chair, peeking around wide-eyed at the fascinating light-headed man with the blue eyes and dark uniform with gold buttons.
When Danny grinned and winked at the boy, Zeke turned and said something to Little Rock in the Cheyenne tongue. The boy pointed at Danny and replied in Cheyenne. Zeke nodded. The boy spoke again and Zeke laughed.
Ride the Free Wind Page 41
