“He can’t understand how you and Swift Arrow can both be his uncles and look so different,” he told Danny. “I’ll have a time explaining this to him!”
They both laughed and Zeke sipped his whiskey while the room quieted.
“I can’t believe I’ve finally found you, Zeke,” Danny spoke up after drinking some of his own whiskey. “I looked for a long time. Originally, I only joined the army for grub and a little pay while I looked for you. Then I got mixed up in that Mexican thing, and well … here I am! I asked for Western duty so I could keep looking for you.”
Zeke sighed and looked at his whiskey. “I thought about you a lot, Danny. Especially you. But I couldn’t go back to Tennessee.”
Danny glanced at the knife again, aware of the size and the dark, wild look of his half-blood brother. He remembered the horror stories about the murders in Tennessee. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk.
“Tell me, Zeke. What really happened back there? When you so gently and patiently cured that puppy of mine, I guess it was then I decided you were my favorite brother. And I couldn’t believe you’d kill your own wife and son. You loved Ellen.”
Abbie’s heart was suddenly heavy, for she knew it was difficult for Zeke to talk about the murders. Zeke twirled his glass in his hand and did not reply right away. He shifted in his chair, and the tenseness of his emotions already seemed to vibrate from his body, filling the room and making it seem close and warm.
“They killed her,” he replied quietly. “When I got there, she wasn’t even dead yet. My little boy was … lying on the floor with his head”—his hands began to tremble, and Abbie looked away from him—“his head chopped off,” Zeke went on. “And Ellen was … alive enough to tell me there were eight of them … all men who knew her … men she’d called friend!”
He growled the words and quickly drank the rest of the whiskey; then he stood up and walked over to the gun cabinet, his back to his brother. “They all … took turns with her, Danny, with my woman!” He whirled, his dark eyes frightening, and Danny Monroe could see he would never want to be on Cheyenne Zeke’s bad side. He pitied any man who might dare to harm Abigail. “When I got there she just stared in shock, talking real clear and calm, like she didn’t even know her arms were gone … cut off because she’d put them around a half-breed! Her long hair was cut off, too. I had to pull it out of her mouth, where they’d stuffed it, so she could talk.” His eyes teared and Danny closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.
“She died just a couple of minutes later,” Zeke went on. “And her last words were to ask me never to blame myself. She told me she’d marry me all over again, even if she knew that would happen. And after she died, I used this!” He whipped out the big blade and held it out, pointed toward Danny. Danny raised his eyes to look at the weapon. “The buffalo knife Pa gave me that once belonged to a dog soldier!” Zeke went on. “For the first time I felt an Indian’s vengeance and hatred in my blood! And I found those men!” he snarled. “Every last one of them. And they died, just as slowly as Ellen died! Yes, I did kill them all, Danny. And if I had the chance I’d do it twice over! And I’ve killed men who tried to hurt Abbie. I don’t call that murder, brother! What they did to Ellen and my son was murder. What I did was rightful vengeance! It’s a code the Indian understands and one I stand by.”
The men’s eyes held steadily, and Little Rock watched his father with wide-eyed wonder, while Blue Sky began to whimper at her father’s raised voice. Abbie kissed the girl’s hair and soothed her, while Zeke turned away from them all, shoving the knife back into its sheath as someone knocked on the door.
Danny leaned back in his chair. “Come in,” he called out.
A private entered, looking curiously at Lieutenant Monroe’s guests and setting a pitcher and glasses down on the desk. “Thank you, Greenley,” Danny told the man.
The private saluted, glancing again at the large Indian man whose hair hung straight and wild and who wore many weapons.
“It’s all right, Greenley. Leave us, please.”
The private saluted again. “Yes, sir.” He cast another glance at Zeke before he turned and left. Danny sighed as he poured two more drinks, feeling sorry for Abigail as she wiped at quiet tears.
“Have some lemonade, Abbie,” he told her. She smiled through her tears and nodded quietly, reaching over to pour some as Danny turned his attention to Zeke.
“Zeke, I have a little pull now. Not a lot, but a little. The lieutenant I saved five years ago is now a colonel, and he has a couple of good connections in Washington. I’ll see if I can’t set the record straight in Tennessee and maybe get you off the wanted list there. It’s been twelve years. It’s over, and any man who understands the whole story ought to be ready to hang the whole thing up. Besides, Ellen’s parents are dead now. And her brother—well, I don’t know about him. He hated you and I expect that won’t change. But he at least should understand it wasn’t you who killed Ellen. It was his own friends.”
Zeke nodded as Little Rock guzzled a glass of lemonade, liking the new drink very much and handing out his glass for more. Abbie poured some and then looked at Danny, smiling gratefully.
“Thank you, Danny. It would be a wonderful relief to get Zeke’s name cleared in Tennessee. I never knew him there, but still, it would be nice to know he’s no longer a wanted man.”
Danny looked back at his brother. “Come and sit down, Zeke. Have another drink.”
Zeke turned and walked to the chair, his face showing the strain of having to talk about Ellen. He reached over and patted Blue Sky’s leg. “It’s all right, Moheya,” he told the girl. He avoided Abbie’s eyes as he leaned forward and picked up his glass of whiskey, slugging down the second drink quickly. He pulled a pipe from a leather pouch that hung from his belt and stuffed it with tobacco from the same pouch.
“Think you’ll ever go back, Zeke?” Danny asked.
Zeke shook his head, then lit the pipe and puffed it for a moment. “I have no desire to ever go back,” he replied.
“Not even to see our father?”
Zeke removed the pipe from his mouth and looked darkly at his brother. “Especially not to see our father.”
“I think he’d like to see you again. He loved you, you know.”
Zeke snickered bitterly. “If he loved me, he wouldn’t have dragged me screaming from my mother’s arms and sold her off to a Crow buck! The only reason he took me to Tennessee was for proof, so he could brag to his men friends about how he’d been living with a Cheyenne. I never blamed your mother for hating me, Danny. She resented me and that was natural. Her blood wasn’t in my veins. But my father—him I blame for all the things that happened to me back home! I didn’t belong there! I belonged here. And I have no reason to go back.”
Danny nodded. “I know how you feel. But Pa, he talked about you a lot, Zeke. Talked about how it was all his fault, what happened, his fault for bringing you back. You were his son, and he missed Tennessee—wanted to come back. He knew it would be impossible to bring a Cheyenne wife with him. I’ll agree he probably never really loved her, but he did love you, and he couldn’t bear to leave his son behind.”
Zeke puffed the pipe again. “Well, I’m sorry, Danny, but I have no fond feelings for our father, and certainly not for my stepmother.”
Danny sighed. “My mother is dead, Zeke. Died ten years ago.” Their eyes held. “She was still young when she died. Pa took it hard. Took him a long time to get over it.”
Zeke puffed the pipe again and sighed. “I’m sorry. But at least you always had her, Danny. I had to come back and search for my mother. And I only had her a few years. She died last year of the cholera epidemic.”
Danny frowned and took a cigar from his desk drawer. “Then I’m sorry, too. I guess all we can do now is start from here and try not to think too much about the past.”
Zeke nodded. “If you want to write Pa and tell him and our brothers about me, you have my permission. But I’ll neve
r go back. How about Lenny and Lance? I wasn’t as close to them, they were so small when I left. But they’re still my brothers. How are they, Danny?”
Danny puffed the cigar. “Last I knew, Lenny got married and lived near Pa, farms like Pa, has a couple of kids. Lance still lives with Pa, far as I know. He’d be eighteen now. Lenny is twenty-two.”
Zeke nodded. “And you? You must be about twenty-five.”
“You got it.” He glanced at Abbie. “And my guess is my brother here robbed the cradle by about ten years,” he said with a wink. “How old are you, Abbie?”
Abbie smiled bashfully. “Twenty-one.”
Danny nodded. “Just as I thought, only I thought maybe even younger.” He smiled. “You have any relatives back home in Tennessee?”
“Just an aunt,” Abbie replied. “But I don’t really consider Tennessee home anymore, Danny.” She reached over and took Zeke’s hand. “My home is with Zeke down on the Arkansas. We have a beautiful piece of land there, with a view of the Rockies in the distance, and the river at our doorstep. Zeke raises Appaloosas, and some day we’ll build a cabin. But we’ve been so involved with Zeke’s Cheyenne family and their problems, there just hasn’t been time for anything else.”
Danny nodded. “I can understand.” He sighed. “I wish I could tell you how this treaty thing will all turn out, Zeke,” he added, turning his eyes back to his brother. “But you know about as much as I do about it right now. We’ll both know more when the government people from St. Louis get here. All I can tell you is I want to be fair and honest with the Indians, to the extent of my ability. But I have only so much authority, and no say in the final decisions on Indian policy. And if push comes to shove …” His eyes saddened. “I wear a blue uniform, Zeke, and there’s no Indian blood in my veins. I understand their viewpoint, but damn it, people are coming out here to settle and nothing can stop it. A lot of those people are perfectly good, innocent men and women, coming out here to settle to find more land, start a new life, to dream dreams.”
Zeke nodded. “I understand all that. But you have to understand the Indians—I mean really understand them—to know how they feel about what’s happening.”
“Then help me understand, Zeke.”
Their eyes held and Zeke nodded. “We’ll help each other, Danny. Come out tomorrow and meet my brothers. We’ll hold a little peace council of our own before the ‘big talk.’”
Danny grinned. “Promise me first your brothers won’t scalp me?”
Zeke laughed lightly. “Promise.”
“How about when the Crow and Shoshoni arrive? Will there be big trouble?”
Zeke puffed on his pipe. “Let’s just say things will be a bit touchy. I don’t hold any love for the Crow myself. I’ve lifted a couple of their scalps, and it was a Crow who put this scar on my cheek.”
Danny studied the fine white line on the dark skin of his brother’s left cheek. “I suppose the Crow is dead?”
Zeke just grinned, and Danny shook his head. “My brother, a Cheyenne warrior. The future will have an interesting effect on both of us, Zeke. I hope to God it doesn’t ever come between us.”
Zeke stood up and put out his hand. “We won’t let it, little brother.”
Danny rose and took his brother’s hand, gripping it firmly. “It’s a pact, then.”
“It’s a pact. I’d no more bring harm to you than to my Cheyenne brothers.”
“You’re in a bad position, Zeke. I’m sorry for you. You’re right in the middle.” He glanced at Abbie, and she hugged her little girl closer to her breast. “But we won’t worry about the future right now,” he continued, looking at Zeke again. “Let’s just be damned glad we’ve found each other. And I’ll try to get you off the hook in Tennessee.”
Zeke squeezed his brother’s hand harder. “Thank you, Danny. That’s a fine thing for you to do.”
Danny shrugged. “You saved my dog when everybody else wanted to shoot it, and I always hated the way people treated you back home, Zeke. I’m sorry about that.”
Their eyes locked sadly. “So am I, Danny,” Zeke replied with pain in his eyes. “So am I.”
Twenty-One
The numbers of incoming red men of the Plains swelled when the Shoshoni arrived, and Lt. Daniel Monroe watched guardedly as Jim Bridger rode into Fort Laramie at the head of the Rocky Mountain Indians. The Sioux and Cheyenne, who outnumbered the arriving Shoshoni by at least six to one, watched with proud dignity and bitter sneers, for although there were many more Sioux and Cheyenne than Shoshoni, only about one of every hundred Sioux and Cheyenne men owned a rifle, whereas nearly every single Shoshoni warrior was so armed.
“It is too bad two of the traitors’ scouts were killed two days ago,” Swift Arrow said haughtily to Zeke, who sat beside him astride his Appaloosa. They were among the Cheyenne, Sioux, and Arapaho leaders who were lined up with Danny and some of his men to greet the newcomers.
Danny and Zeke looked at Swift Arrow, who had denied having any knowledge about who might have killed the Shoshoni scouts two days earlier, but Swift Arrow himself had been strangely absent for a day and a night, and now he sat grinning as the Shoshoni arrived.
“It is hard to control the warriors when they see old enemies who have stolen their horses and women and have turned traitor to their own people!” He sneered.
Danny met Zeke’s eyes, and both men had to grin, certain that Swift Arrow knew exactly who had killed the scouts. Then they turned back to the grand pageantry of the almost military way in which the armed and painted Shoshoni arrived.
“I suppose it is difficult,” Danny answered Swift Arrow. “But you should remember that you must befriend your brothers, Swift Arrow, even those you call enemy. You have your freedom to think about now—your dealings with the Great White Father. And there is more strength in numbers. It is not wise to be divided.” He turned to meet Swift Arrow’s eyes again, and Swift Arrow nodded.
“Perhaps. But old hatreds die slowly, my bluecoat brother,” Swift Arrow answered.
“And yet how swiftly they are born,” Zeke put in.
Danny smiled sadly. “Well put,” he replied.
The three of them directed their attention back to the Shoshoni procession. Swift Arrow liked Zeke’s white-haired, bluecoat brother. He was not like most white men. He was true and brave, like his half-blood brother. Swift Arrow sensed this already. And he was certain that Lt. Daniel Monroe spoke with a straight tongue, for he was Zeke’s brother; and even though he was white, he had courage and compassion. Swift Arrow was pleased that he had a friend among the bluecoats who in a sense was related to him. Although their blood did not truly run in each other’s veins, they had a vital connection that could help the Cheyenne cause in the years ahead … and that connection was Cheyenne Zeke.
But that fact worried Abbie, who watched from a distance, for one day Zeke was bound to be torn in his loyalties, and that could destroy her man. The future appeared treacherous for Zeke Monroe, and Abbie felt that this coming together of the tribes was the beginning of a whole new chapter in their lives. She thought about that first journey to Hinta Nagi from Fort Bridger in the spring of 1846. It had been a sweet time for them … a time of total aloneness and quiet love, free of cares … a time for sharing only love and bodies. She wondered if there would ever be such a time for them again.
Someone shouted, interrupting her thoughts, and the warriors at the front of the Cheyenne-Sioux line began yelling out clipped war cries, their horses prancing nervously in place, some moving out of formation.
“Don’t let him through!” Danny ordered.
Abbie strained to see, quickly moving closer toward Zeke while the children stayed behind with Tall Grass Woman.
“There’ll be trouble if he gets through!” she heard Zeke shouting. Swift Arrow was only grinning and raising his fist as a Sioux warrior who had broken rank galloped forward, his lance in the air, screeching out a war cry and heading straight for the Shoshoni.
“What’s th
at fool think he’s doing!” Danny growled.
“He intends to count coup on a Shoshoni, brother,” Zeke replied. “And if he does, you’ll have a battle on your hands!” Zeke started to ride forward to go after the Sioux man, but a French interpreter had already started after him. Zeke backed his horse, thinking it best to let the Frenchman try to subdue the Sioux warrior. No Sioux or Cheyenne dared try to stop him without starting an all-out battle, and if a soldier tried the same, it could cause hard feelings and perhaps even a fight between the Sioux and the soldiers.
In moments the Frenchman caught up with the Indian and leaped across onto the Indian’s horse, knocking the Sioux man to the ground. There was a momentary scuffle before the interpreter managed to whack the Sioux man across the side of the head with his rifle butt, and the near disaster was averted.
Danny and Zeke breathed a sigh of relief, but Swift Arrow was disappointed. He would have liked to have seen what would have happened if the Sioux warrior had reached the Shoshoni. A good fight was always fun to watch!
The Shoshoni delegation, which had temporarily halted, resumed their entrance, led by their great leader, Washaki. Now there would be nearly ten thousand Indians camped around Fort Laramie. This was a gathering never before achieved, and one that would never again be repeated in the course of history. There were formal greetings and challenging looks between the Shoshoni and the Sioux and Cheyenne, after which all tribes returned to their campsites to await further proceedings.
Zeke rode back to Abbie and reached down to lift her to sit in front of him on his mount. Little Rock ran behind them, and Tall Grass Woman carried Blue Sky. Since the death of little Magpie, Tall Grass Woman had a special affection for Blue Sky, and was like a second mother to Abbie’s daughter, as well as the only person besides Zeke and Abbie that Blue Sky would go to.
“I’ll bet you never thought you’d be a part of something like this back when you first left Tennessee, did you, Abbie girl?” Zeke asked her. She smiled and kissed his cheek.
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