Comanche Eagle

by Sara Orwig

  “Hell, Virge, Judge ain’t no woman. She’s a stick.”

  A man crossing the dusty street laughed, nodding his head. Since his back was to her, Crystal had no idea who the man was. Burning with embarrassment, Crystal prayed that Travis could not hear Virge and Slim and that he would finish quickly and join her. She wanted to be off the street, out of the town, and out of the sight of men like Virge and Slim.

  Man must have been blind desperate for a woman. The words cut like a knife because Black Eagle had been blind desperate. Were those two scoundrels still smarting because of the times she had sent them to jail or was she honestly that ugly to men? Common sense told her that Virge and Slim were only striking back at her, but she felt miserable and plain, a spinster-woman in spite of the paper that declared she was Mrs. Travis Black Eagle.

  Man must have been blind desperate for a woman. The words played again in her mind and she felt as if she couldn’t get her breath. She remembered Baltimore, remembered that horrible night when Harvey had knocked on her window and said he had to talk to her. Did men here know about her Baltimore life? She knew they didn’t or she would have heard about it, too.

  “’Course the man that married her is a breed. Any white woman, no matter what a sorry excuse for a woman, would be what he’d like.”

  “I don’t know, Virge. A man would have to be crazy drunk and fired up something terrible to put up with the likes of her. Even a worthless redskin. Whoo, McGawley’s old hound is better looking.”

  “When it comes to white women, redskins ain’t picky.”

  Humiliated, Crystal felt on fire, wishing that they would go away before Black Eagle heard them. Even though their words were slurred, what they were saying carried all too clearly.

  Black Eagle strode out of the store with his arms filled with purchases. The moment he emerged, the two men sauntered off.

  Black Eagle dropped the supplies into the wagon bed and shot her a swift glance. One look in his dark, glittering eyes, and a chill ran down her spine. Then he was gone, striding down the boardwalk, and her heart jumped when she saw him heading after the two men.

  Concerned by what he might do, she stood up. “Mr. Black Eagle,” she called, mortified and knowing he must have heard them call him a redskin.

  Virge glanced over his shoulder, said something to Slim, and they turned toward Black Eagle with their fists clenched. How could she stop a calamity? Fighting was illegal, but there were so many fights in frontier towns that no one paid any heed unless some other law was infringed. She hated violence as much as breaking the law, and the three men were all set to do both if she didn’t stop them … and there would be two tough fighters against her husband. Slim was tall and brawny with a barrel chest and thick arms.

  “Mr. Black Eagle!” she called again, but he didn’t change his stride or look back. She scrambled to get Jacob and climb down to go for the sheriff before Black Eagle ended up unconscious or in her court.

  “You won’t talk about my wife that way.” The words were soft-spoken, but Crystal heard them and halted, rooted in shock. He was fighting because of what they said about her.

  Virge swung at Black Eagle, who ducked, while Slim threw a punch that slammed the Indian against a wall. Both men waded in, fists pounding. She watched Slim swing his fist into Black Eagle’s stomach while Virge struck a swift blow to his head.

  Black Eagle hit Virge squarely on the jaw with a blow that cracked like a limb snapping, and Virge slumped to the ground. Slim jumped Black Eagle, and the two stumbled and crashed against the saloon wall.

  Black Eagle spun and hit Slim, sending him sprawling in the street. Both Virge and Slim lay still.

  Stunned by the swiftness of the confrontation, Crystal was immobile and terrified by how badly Black Eagle was hurt. To her relief, he picked up his hat, jammed it on his head, and strode back to the wagon. Blood ran down his jaw and there was a cut on his cheek.

  She scrambled up on the seat and placed Jacob in his cradle, thankful he could sleep through all kinds of rumpus. Humiliation still cloaked her, making her burn with embarrassment. How many fights would Black Eagle have because of her? And fighting was wrong!

  Black Eagle climbed up beside her and gave a swipe at his bleeding mouth. With roiling emotions—feeling humiliated, amazed, embarrassed and angry with him all at the same time, she turned away swiftly. To her relief the horses moved forward and the wagon rolled down the street. She didn’t look around; nevertheless, she knew people were staring at them. And in spite of what she’d heard him say to the men about his wife, she suspected Black Eagle’s anger was over the slurs directed at him.

  They rode in silence until they were well past Cheyenne and moonlight splashed over the wagon and grass. With a sudden movement Black Eagle caught her chin and turned her to face him. Moonglow bathed her face, but beneath his hat brim, his eyes were hidden in shadows. “You’re angry, aren’t you, Judge?” he asked tersely.

  “You broke the law back there. Sheriff Hinckel could have arrested you.”

  “If Wade Hinckel arrested every man in Cheyenne who settled problems with his fists, the jail would stretch from here to the mountains.”

  Black Eagle turned back to driving the wagon. “If I had ignored those two, they would have been worse next time they saw you. They’re bullies and they would have given me a harder time. Here the law is tenuous.”

  “It shouldn’t be. Not all men resort to violence.”

  “Maybe not back in Baltimore; but out here, everyone is close to primitive reactions.”

  “It’s barbaric, and this town is nothing but an abode of savages who take the law into their own hands.”

  “Ease up, Judge. You’re going to find the law cold company someday.”

  “Ellery didn’t resort to violence, and he probably lived here as long as you have.”

  “If he had resorted to violence a little more than he did, he might be alive today.”

  “He was shot in the chest, so he faced his killer. I think it was someone he knew.”

  “I know who you think it was,” Black Eagle remarked in a harsh voice.

  “Violence doesn’t solve anything, and Ellery never used it,” she repeated, thinking about her gentle brother.

  “For a white man, your brother was one of the best damned knife-fighters I’ve ever seen. That kept him from having to resort to violence as often.”

  “Ellery?” Shocked, she looked up at Black Eagle.

  “You didn’t know that, did you?”

  “No,” she answered, her thoughts on taking care of the body when they brought it back. A stiletto had been fastened inside one of Ellery’s boots. She had been surprised to find it, but she assumed he carried it for protection yet had rarely ever used it. “He never told me.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. A knife fight is a little on the wrong side of the law, too,” Black Eagle stated dryly.

  They rode in silence, the tension thick between them. She could feel his anger at her stance about the law, but she couldn’t approve of what he had done. She still burned with humiliation over the dreadful words.

  “If you fight every man who doesn’t like me, you may have to fight nearly the entire male population of Cheyenne. You married a woman with a lot of enemies,” she admitted stiffly.

  “Crystal, those two were vermin, but they’ll think twice before they talk in public about you or me again. Actually, we’re both misfits,” he said, looking at her. “A lot of men don’t want a woman judge. That may come as a shock, but I hear them talk. I’ve heard the governor talk about it. He appointed you and the men of Wyoming gave women the vote and let them serve on juries and hold office because of politics. Women having the vote here is a quirk in time and their rights don’t make the male citizens happy. If anyone else gives you a bad time because you married me, you should tell me, but I know you won’t.”

  “Indeed not! You should think of your son. I don’t want Jacob’s father in jail for brawling—or in my courtroom,” she sai
d. She didn’t want him fighting half the town and she was beginning to wonder how many fights he had already had because of the color of his skin.

  “God forbid I ever face you in a courtroom!”

  “For once, we both fully agree. Think of Jacob before you hit the next man.”

  “If I had stopped to think of Jacob, I would still have hit Virge and Slim. Judge, you’re meddling in something a woman wouldn’t know a thing about,” he declared with a finality that made her grit her teeth.

  “You broke the law tonight,” she said, annoyed that he wouldn’t repent. When he didn’t answer, she became silent, glancing at him occasionally and wondering about him. She thought of the hateful things the men had said about him. “Do you have a lot of trouble from people around here?”

  “Compared to other places I’ve lived, no. Some people won’t associate with me and you might as well know about them. Sherman Knudsen is happy to bring his animals to me, to buy horses from me, to take my money and keep it in his bank. But otherwise, he won’t speak to me.”

  “No!”

  Black Eagle turned to look down at her. “Crystal, hasn’t it ever occurred to you that people out here hate Indians? At least, some white people do. They think Indians are dirt, absolutely worthless, or else they view them as uncivilized savages.”

  “I know people think of Indians as savages, but I think of ones like Running Horse,” she said, naming a Cheyenne chief who occasionally came to town to talk to the governor or officers from nearby Fort Russell.

  “All the forts around us are filled with soldiers to fight the Indians—my people. I’m satisfied to walk the white man’s road and speak his language, but it’s a thin veneer and some people see me the same as they do Crazy Horse or Red Cloud.”

  “You’re not the same at all! You have a good business here.”

  “Fortunately, I do. Remember, the fourteenth amendment was passed only three years ago giving full citizenship to anyone born in the States and all territories—except Indians. We’re non-people and we have no rights as far as the U.S. government is concerned.”

  “What will happen to Jacob? If townspeople are that hateful to you, how will they be to him?”

  “That’s why I work until I drop every night. I’m trying to build enough fortune and acquire enough cattle and land that they’ll have to treat him with respect.”

  She knew Travis did work until late every night and then was up and working long before dawn. While she had to admire him for what he was trying to do, she knew each bit of approval she gave him made him even more dangerously appealing.

  “Your efforts might not make a difference,” she remarked, thinking that it was the color of his skin, not his possessions, that other men thought about.

  “If I succeed, Jacob will get respect. Land and money are what white men idolize.”

  “That’s a harsh view,” she said, wondering about his past and the hurts inflicted on him.

  Moonlight spilled over his black hat and broad shoulders and played across his strong hands. Another rush of longing tore at her. If only he cared a little and they were a man and wife and baby, riding back to their home, starting their marriage together. The emptiness of her existence seemed greater than ever. Black Eagle was an energetic, virile male who had become a constant reminder of what she was missing in life.

  She tried to stop that line of thought because it was as dangerous as admiring him for his struggle to win the respect of local people. She was nothing more than a business partner with him and that would never change. She had agreed to caring for Jacob. In turn, Black Eagle had agreed to paying Ellery’s debts and sending her to California later, to providing a home for her in the meantime. And to leaving her body alone.

  At the last thought, her nerves came alive and her untouched body ached for moments like this morning when he had picked her up in his arms to lift her into the wagon. He was warm, solid, and strong, and it had been marvelous to be carried close against his heart.

  With an effort she stopped thinking about him and lifted her face to the breeze. The harness jingled while the animals kept a slow, steady pace. She looked at the millions of bright stars, and as she gazed across the rolling land, she was aware of how alone they were. She remembered Ellery being killed along this trail and shivered, glancing again at the tall man who sat so still and straight beside her. And she suspected he was fearless about the ride.

  “We’re very alone out here.”

  “Not scared, Judge?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “I don’t believe it! If a grizzly came charging at us, you’d fight him to protect Jacob.”

  “I might, but it frightens me to think about it and I don’t want to talk about such things right now.”

  She heard a soft chuckle. She locked her hands together, looking at his broad shoulders and feeling better because he could protect them from a lot of things.

  “Is Turtle River Comanche also?” she asked, trying to get her mind off the shadows. For days she had wondered if Black Eagle and Turtle River had been friends for a long time.

  “No, Cheyenne.”

  “Why doesn’t he return to his people?”

  “He can’t go back to his people,” Black Eagle answered in a bitter voice, and she wondered about Black Eagle. Perhaps he couldn’t return to his people either; but if he couldn’t, why not? Was he hiding his past, too?

  “Turtle River loved a woman and fought a warrior for her,” Black Eagle continued. “The warrior won her; and even though she loved Turtle River and he loved her, she had to go with the warrior who won the fight. Months before Turtle River fought for her, in a battle with soldiers, he had been shot and he hadn’t fully recovered when he had to fight for her.”

  “That seems unfair,” Crystal said, glancing up at Black Eagle, who shrugged.

  “One cannot always pick the time for a fight. The warrior mistreated her badly. He and Turtle River were enemies and Turtle River felt the warrior was hurting her to hurt Turtle River.”

  “That’s dreadful! Wasn’t there a law or a tribal counsel who could stop his mistreatment?”

  “A woman belongs to her man,” Black Eagle said quietly, and Crystal twisted her fingers together in annoyance.

  “The law is not much different for a white woman. As your wife, I belong to you as much as the horses and this wagon.”

  “That’s true.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why he can’t go back.”

  “He took her from the warrior and they ran away. She was killed later by soldiers, but Turtle River can’t return. The woman was not his to take and the warrior would never have consented.”

  Thinking about the stoic Cheyenne, Crystal rode quietly. “Turtle River must have loved her very much.”

  “He did,” Black Eagle replied gruffly, and Crystal knew his thoughts were on Elizabeth. “He says we each have one great love. I think he’s right.”

  Crystal stared into the darkness, feeling a hurt twist inside. She would never have one great love unless she was unfortunate enough to fall in love with her husband, and then her love would never be returned.

  She looked at his dark silhouette against the backdrop of silver moonlight. Constantly, he made it all too clear he was incapable of loving again. His heart had gone to the grave with his wife.

  Crystal sighed, thinking of the two lonely, stoic warriors, drawn together, both mourning lost loves. “Where did you meet Turtle River?”

  “He was being held by soldiers in a prison. They accused him of stealing their horses. I helped him escape, Judge,” he said dryly, reminding her that he had little regard for some of the white man’s laws.

  “Had he stolen their horses?”

  “Yes, but they had taken his people’s horses and land and killed Cheyenne women and children.”

  “Still, you broke the law.”

  “It wasn’t in Wyoming, Judge, and it was long ago,” he said lightly and she heard
amusement in his voice.

  “You broke the law.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Right in two. It must be nice to see all of life divided up neatly. Right here, wrong over there. Keeps you sleeping quietly at night—doesn’t it?—to have such a clear conscience.”

  He was taunting her, stirring up the old clash of wills. And she would never admit to him that she was not sleeping quietly at night and it wasn’t because of her conscience.

  She became quiet and they rode in silence, yet she was aware of him at her side. When they turned the last bend and the house came in view, she felt a surge of relief to be home. The small log house already looked like a haven to her. It was her home, and she felt as if she belonged there.

  “Don’t disturb Jacob. I’ll carry the cradle inside.” Black Eagle jumped down and came around the wagon, lifting her easily and swinging her to the ground. He released her at once and turned to get the cradle. Watching him, Crystal longed for his arms to go around her, wanting to press against him, growing more curious about a kiss.

  Mentally chiding herself and knowing her thoughts were taking dangerous turns too often, she headed toward the dark cabin, stepping inside to light a lamp. He placed the cradle on the floor and knelt beside Jacob, touching his head lightly with his fingers. Black Eagle’s dark hair fell forward, hiding his face from view and she thought how contradictory he was, so gentle with his son, yet often so harsh with others.

  He headed toward the door. “Good night, Judge,” he said. “I’ll sleep outside.”

  He closed the door behind him and she felt alone, longing tearing at her until she hurried to Jacob’s side, reassuring herself with the baby that there was one person who loved and needed her. That should have been enough, but it wasn’t….

  She stared through the open window at the dark night, thinking about Travis Black Eagle out there in the darkness with his own loneliness and pain. Had she already fallen in love with him? The moments after the fire, had he simply won her heart without his knowledge or effort? Was it possible to fall swiftly and deeply in love with a man?

  She moved restlessly about the cabin, extinguishing the lamp, undressing, and taking her hair down by the light of the moon spilling through the windows. Travis Black Eagle. He had told her to call him Travis and maybe she could now.