“I don’t know… what you mean,” the girl whimpered in her tiny voice.
“Olin, you know where I keep them,” Zeke spoke up to his friend.
“I know,” Olin replied. The man hurried off, and Abbie stepped closer now, her curiosity and awe compelling her to watch everything Cheyenne Zeke did. She quietly sat down beside the Hanes, and for a moment Zeke’s dark eyes met hers. He looked almost frightening, sitting there in the night with the white streaks on his face and body glowing in the firelight. At that moment, he was all Indian, and it was a side of him she knew was worlds apart from anything she had ever known. She felt small and insignificant under his piercing eyes, and she also felt a certain animallike power emanating from his sleek body. It stirred desires in her that she had never before experienced, and the look she returned was suddenly that of a woman and not a child. He quickly looked away when Olin returned with a little leather pouch which Zeke opened, taking out four lovely turquoise colored stones, each one polished smooth. He placed them in front of Mary where she could see them well, and they seemed to glow in the firelight. Each stone was about one inch in diameter, and each shaped differently.
“These are crying stones, Mary,” Zeke told the girl.
Utterly fascinated Mary stared at the stones, and it was obvious that whether Zeke’s story was true or not, it would at least take her attention away from herself, which was his ultimate aim.
“Look real hard at the stones, Mary,” he told her, rubbing her temples again. “They’ll cry for you if you concentrate hard enough.”
“Cry for me?” the girl asked. Mr. and Mrs. Hanes looked at each other and smiled.
“Yes,” Zeke answered. “My people consider it a weakness to cry. That doesn’t mean we don’t cry, because it’s hard not to cry when your child is dying of disease, or you’re starving to death or freezing to death, or maybe being attacked for no reason. Everybody cries, Mary. But life is hard, and we have to learn to be strong. And during the times when it’s best not to cry—like when you’ve been snake-bit and have to be still—then we have to give our tears to something else so we can be stronger. You can give your tears to those stones. They’re sacred stones, and Heammawihio and the gray eagle will let the stones take your tears—and your pain. If you believe hard enough, it will happen. Just keep looking at them and thinking about giving them your tears and pain.”
Mary stared wide-eyed at the stones, completely entranced by the story.
“Did you ever make them cry for you?” Mary asked.
Abbie waited anxiously for his reply, sensing Zeke’s pain at the question. He kept his eyes closed and replied in a strained voice.
“Oh, yes,” he said in a near whisper. “For a long time, I sat every night staring at those stones, begging them to take away my tears and the terrible hurt.”
“Why were you crying?” the child asked innocently.
Zeke breathed deeply. “Somebody I loved was … taken from me,” he replied. That was all he said, and the statement was followed by a dead silence, the only sound being the crackling of the campfire. Finally Zeke asked Mary. “Are the stones crying yet?”
“I …” The child’s face lit up and she actually smiled a little. “They are!” she whispered in awe. Abbie and the Hanes looked at the stones, leaning closer to study them.
“They’re just sweating,” Hanes remarked.
“It isn’t sweat,” Zeke replied. “You have to believe like your daughter here, Mr. Hanes. Those are tears—Mary’s tears. Touch them. Taste the moisture. It will be salty—just like tears.”
Hanes looked at Zeke, whose face was completely serious. If he was making it all up, no one could have guessed. Abbie felt a tingle at the realization that he meant what he was saying. Hanes touched one stone with his finger and put it to his tongue, then looked back at Zeke in surprise.
“It is salty!” he remarked.
“Give the child some water,” Zeke told the girl’s mother. “She needs a lot of water. She’s starting to fever up now and sweat. Once the fever leaves her, she’ll be fine.”
The woman left, and Zeke’s eyes met Abbie’s again. “Do you believe in the stones?” he asked.
She nodded. “I do,” she replied quietly.
He studied her a moment longer, and then suddenly the look in his eyes changed to one of deep concern. “I see many tears ahead in your own life, Abigail Trent,” he said. He seemed so sure of it that Abbie became frightened. “Many tears,” he repeated quietly. “I am sorry. After tonight, you may have the crying stones. You will need them.”
Abbie frowned. “How can you know that?”
“I… feel it. The Indian is very spiritual—close to the elements and the spirit world. The Indian has visions. Often the Great Spirit warns him of things to come. Now they warn you to be strong, Abigail. First you will stand alone—completely alone. And then I see …” The words became strained, and he closed his eyes, breathing harder. “I see … someone … standing beside you … someone … strong and—” He suddenly shook his head. “Go away, Abbie!” he whispered.
She swallowed. “You’re scaring me!” she squeaked. “You shouldn’t tell me those things!”
He rocked quietly, massaging Mary’s temples again. “I did not mean to frighten you.” He still breathed hard, as though upset. “You will have an inner strength that will see you through whatever happens to you. It will not fail you. Now, please go!”
As Abbie blinked back her tears and rose, Mrs. Hanes returned with the water.
“Zeke?” Abbie said.
But he did not reply, and she finally walked back to Olin, wiping at a tear. “Why did he tell me that?” she asked. Olin took her arm and urged her back toward her wagon.
“When he looks at you, Miss Abbie, he sees his dead wife. That draws him close to the spirit world. If Zeke says he sees somethin’ in your future, he’s probably right, and he’s just tryin’ to prepare you to be strong.”
“It scares me,” she replied, pulling her shawl closer.
“Don’t never be afraid. He said you was a strong girl. Zeke knows.”
“But… who do you think he saw standing beside me? He got so upset.”
Olin stopped walking and turned to face her. “Who do you think?” he asked.
Her eyes widened and lit up with hope. “Him?”
“That’s my guess. And if I’m right, Cheyenne Zeke is in for one hell of a battle with himself. A vision is somethin’ that can’t be denied, but for reasons of his own, the last thing Zeke would ever want is to be involved with another white woman. He’ll do his best to see beyond that vision—to find another vision that will tell him the first one don’t mean what it looks like it means. I know by how upset he got that it was somethin’ he’d rather not have happen.”
“Why shouldn’t it happen?” Abbie replied. “I don’t understand any of this.”
Olin looked down at her, and she was shocked to see the pain on his face. “Miss Abbie, you have to believe me when I tell you … it would be a lot better, for you and Zeke both, if you get your mind off him and just get to Oregon and forget him. Please don’t make me explain. And please don’t make things hard on Zeke.”
“Some things can’t be avoided,” she replied. “And there’s some purpose for me and Cheyenne Zeke—I just know it. I felt it the first time he stepped into our camp and I handed him that cup of coffee.”
Olin sighed. “You’re a child, Abbie. There are a lot of things you don’t understand yet.”
“Then maybe one day I’ll learn from Zeke,” she replied with confidence, taking hope in the vision. Her heart raced with anticipation and with visions of her own: visions of one day standing beside Cheyenne Zeke as his woman, of lying with him at night, and of giving him children to replace the son he’d lost. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and let things take care of themselves, won’t I?” she went on.
Olin sighed and started walking again. “I guess,” he said quietly. “Ain’t no use arguin’ with a l
ove-struck little girl.”
“Tell me more about Zeke, Olin,” she pleaded. “At least tell me about you and him—how you got to be friends and all. Can’t you tell me that much?”
The rotund, bearded man chuckled and shook his head. “Okay. For a cup of coffee I’ll share that much with you.”
“Oh, thank you!” she replied, walking faster now. When they reached camp she hurriedly poured him a cupful of coffee from a pot still hanging over the fire. LeeAnn and Jeremy lay inside the wagon, already asleep, but Jason Trent greeted Olin and asked how things were going with the child. Abbie excitedly told him about the stones, while Jason studied the love in her eyes with a heavy heart. His little girl was falling for a man she could never have; she was headed for disaster. But he said nothing. “Olin promised to tell me how he met Zeke and all,” she told her father. “May I please sit up a while longer, pa?”
The man grinned resignedly. “I suppose so. Me—I’m turning in, little girl. I’m a tired and sore man. And you get yourself to bed before long, you hear?”
“I will, pa,” she replied. Trent rose and said his good-nights. He crawled into his bedroll under the wagon and listened to most of what Olin had to tell Abbie, praying at the same time that his child’s love for the half-breed would not bring her too much harm.
“Well, I reckon the feud between Zeke and Rube Givens started mostly over me,” Olin was saying. He took a sip of coffee, then lit a pipe. “You see, when I met Zeke, I was half dead. Zeke—he saved my life, Miss Abbie. That was about four years ago. I’d been trappin’ up in the Tetons. Furs was gettin’ real cheap by then, and it took a lot to make any decent money. Seein’ as how it was a lean year and everybody needed all they could get to make enough money to live on, I was lucky. I’d had a real good season and was on my way east with them furs when Rube Givens and his men come along and attacked my camp. Filled me full of lead and run off with my furs. Givens, he’s one of them trappers that don’t bother doin’ the work himself. He just takes somebody else’s furs whenever he can get away with it. At any rate, they left me for dead and stole my furs. But Zeke, he come along and found me. He didn’t know me, but he dug out the lead and then prayed over me, like he’s doin’ now for little Mary.”
He stopped and puffed his pipe again, while Abbie listened attentively.
“I got well, thanks to Zeke. I’d have died for sure if he hadn’t come along when he did. And while I was mendin’, we got to be pretty good friends—done a lot of talkin’. Then Zeke took me to an Arapaho camp, where he left me to be cared for while he headed out to find Rube Givens. He already knowed who the man was—had met him and knew his reputation. Him and Givens had already had a run-in over a card game. At any rate, Givens had no way of knowin’ Zeke knew what he’d done to me, and Zeke promised me he was goin’ to look up Givens and somehow get my furs back.”
“I’ll bet he got them back, didn’t he?” Abbie said with an eager smile.
Olin chuckled. “Sure did. He hunted Givens up. Found him down at Jackson Hole and real calmlike joined up in another card game. Ol’ Rube—he had five other men with him—told Zeke they never did settle their dispute over the last card game. I guess the both of them was feelin’ each other out, each with somethin’ to settle. I guess Rube figured him and his men could take Zeke then and there, and Zeke, he figured maybe he could take all six of them. After a while, after both of them did their secret figurin’ as to how they was gonna go about it, Rube, he started goadin’ Zeke, wantin’ him to start the fight he figured him and his men would finish. Zeke, he was winnin’ at cards besides, and when Rube run out of money, Zeke, he suggested he put up my furs for collateral. Well, it was then Rube figured out just why Zeke was really there, and he started shoutin’ filthy names at Zeke and tellin’ him them furs was his and that he didn’t have to pay nothin’ to Zeke, cause Zeke was gonna die that day anyway. Zeke, he had other plans. Only they got messed up a little when one of Rube’s men drawed a gun on Zeke before Rube did. Zeke was hopin’ it would be Rube, ’cause that was the man he wanted most of all. Zeke, he’s fast himself, like you saw the other day. He pulled out that gun of his and used it on that other man first. By then the others was ready for him, and Zeke ain’t fast just with his gun, but with his body, too, bein’ part Indian and all. He can duck and whirl and roll and get a man all confused on his aim. I reckon bullets must have flew everywhere. Zeke, he got one graze on his shoulder, but by God he got all four of them others that was left, while ol’ Rube, he run like the yellow bastard he is.” He chuckled again and puffed on his pipe. “You know, I can just picture Zeke sittin’ there real calm and cool, and then the next minute he’s duckin’ everywhere, pumpin’ lead into them men like they was jackrabbits.”
Abbie smiled, picturing the scene herself. “Did Rube Givens get away then?” she asked.
“Yup. Zeke, he had his hands full with them others. He’s got a way of chargin’ in and gettin’ the job done real quicklike, but while all that was goin’ on, Givens was runnin’. When the smoke settled, the man was gone, and Zeke, bein’ a half-breed, he knew he’d best get out of there quick, ’cause most folks would hang him, even if it wasn’t his fault what happened. He’d seen my furs bundled onto a horse out front that was tied with Givens’ horse, and when he run out, that there horse was still there. I reckon Givens didn’t want to be burdened down with it, for fear Zeke would come after him. I expect he figured if he left the furs, Zeke’d return ’em to me rather than follow Rube, and he did ’cause Zeke had give me his word he’d get them furs back. Next thing I know, here he comes into that Arapaho camp with my furs, and when I was well enough, he went with me as far as the Arkansas down in Colorado Territory, where he lived with his people, and I went on and sold my furs for a good price. Then I went back and visited Zeke, livin’ there among the Cheyennes, and the friendship continued.”
“Zeke said something to Givens about taking a whipping, and I saw scars on his back.”
Olin nodded. “Me and Zeke went out to do more trappin’ that fall. We split up, Zeke goin’ up by Yellowstone and me farther south by the Green River. We made plans to meet at Jackson Hole. Figured whoever did the best, we’d put our furs together and split the money. But that Givens, he’d been lookin’ for Zeke that winter, figured maybe he’d come back around there, and Rube wanted to get even. Well, he did. That S.O.B. found Zeke through word of mouth, snuck up on him in camp alone, and ambushed him. Zeke fought hard; but this time he didn’t have his gun on, and there was ten of them. They beat the hell out of Zeke and strapped him to a tree with his shirt off in the cold; then they proceeded to whip him till his back didn’t even look human no more. They left him there to die from the cold, and he hung there for two days, more dead than alive. Rube, he took off with Zeke’s furs.”
“Dear God!” Abbie whispered, her heart aching at the thought. “How did he live?”
“Ol’ Zeke, he’s a tough bird. It’s the stubborn Cheyenne in him. He hung on till, finally, some northern Cheyennes found him. They took him in and nursed him back to health. Zeke, he met me at Jackson Hole like we’d planned and told me what happened. We left there quick, ’cause we was afraid there was still people at Jackson Hole that might want Zeke’s hide. We’d heard rumors of Rube Givens bein’ at a little town on the Sweetwater in Wyoming Territory. Word travels fast among outlaws and trappers and Indians. We rode there fast as we could ride, and by God we found Givens. We got into a hell of a gunfight with that man and his friends—rode right into that little town and walked into the saloon where people said Givens was, and commenced firin’. Givens, he ducked behind the bar, and I was sure I’d plugged him. Me and Zeke shot the place up pretty good, and most of them men was dead or had run off, and then everything was quiet. We backed up to leave, and all of a sudden Givens popped up from behind that bar, fixin’ to surprise us and plug us. Zeke’s eagle eye caught the movement before I did, and he fired that .45 of his and put a big hole in Givens’ gut. Then he whipped out that b
ig knife of his, fixin’ to do one of his special jobs on Givens for the terrible whippin’ Rube had given Zeke. But I already seen a mob formin’ and headin’ for the saloon, and I advised Zeke to get the hell out of there, ’cause that there town had a sheriff and all, and like I say, Zeke bein’ a half-breed, they’d like nothin’ better than to hang him. So we left and rode fast out of there, takin’ Zeke’s furs with us. Zeke, he was disappointed that he hadn’t got to cut Givens up. He’s got a way with a knife like you never saw or ever want to see, Miss Abbie. At any rate, I told him ol’ Rube would die from that gunshot, but I turned out to be wrong as you saw back there at Sapling Grove. We figured him for dead, ’cause we never saw no sign of him for them years followin’ the shootout. Me and Zeke trapped together one more year after that, sharin’ our feelin’s and all. Zeke, he told me about Tennessee and what had happened to him there. Since that last year of trappin’, Zeke pretty much stayed down on the Arkansas with his ma and her people, raisin’ Appaloosas and all. Me, I always stopped there in the summers and stayed on. That’s where I was headed when I run into him back there in Independence. Hadn’t seen him all the winter before, so I’m glad to be with him again. I give up trappin’, so I figured I’d go along on this trip for the money—and to be with Zeke again. Trappin’ is gettin’ to be a mighty poor way of makin’ money and I’ve got to look to other things now.”
“Why didn’t Zeke kill Givens back there at Sapling Grove?” Abbie asked. “He must have a pretty big hate for the man by now.”
“He does. But you was watchin’. He’d just as soon not shock you with his violent side if he can help it. But before this trip is out, he might have to. Zeke don’t generally let men go like that. I guess that shows his respect for you. Zeke, he can split a man open and dress him out in about ten seconds flat with that knife of his. Rube knows it. That’s why he backed off when Zeke pulled that knife back there at Sapling Grove. Rube would rather wait till he can ambush a man or shoot him in the back.”
Sweet Prairie Passion (Savage Destiny) Page 8
