by Karen Kay
“You have no proof of anything.”
“Don’t I?”
“Who’s talked?”
Dead silence followed the question. At length, the sheriff muttered, “Why, Lieutenant, that’s all I needed to know.”
Heavy footsteps sounded from inside, coming toward the door. Alys dashed around the side of the building.
“I’ll find out who’s been spilling their guts and then I’ll—”
“The only man that’s talked, Lieutenant, is you. Maybe…Don’t mind tellin’ you, though, that if’n I find some poor man dead, I’ll come gunnin’ for you, no questions asked.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Can’t I? You got friends that’re gonna stop me?”
Another deadly silence.
“Like I said, Lieutenant, I think you might be wise to find another position—somewhere else.”
More footsteps sounded, then the slam of a door. Footsteps again, going away, echoing against the wooden planks of the sidewalk.
Meanwhile Alys leaned back, resting her head against the side of the building.
Imagine that. The government had heard her plea, had sent them an honest man…as sheriff. It was enough to renew one’s faith.
And as relief, quick and sure, washed through her the more she thought about it, she so very, very slowly smiled.
She thought about leaving to go home, right then and there. Her purpose in seeing the sheriff had certainly been taken care of without her having to do a thing.
At length, however, she straightened away from the building and approached the sheriff’s office. She didn’t know what she would say or what she might do, but it didn’t matter. The least she could do was thank the man.
Coming up to the door and turning the handle, she walked in. As she swept into the room, the sheriff came to his feet, the look on his face more than a little surprised.
She smiled at the man, a tall, gangling fellow who appeared to be in his early forties. She didn’t pause or put on airs, though. Instead, she came right to the point. “I’m sorry to be bothering you, Sheriff, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Lieutenant Warrington.”
Swiping his hat from his head and holding it across his chest, he said, “Why, ma’am, I’m right sorry about that.”
She nodded. “I thought you might like to know that I’m glad to hear that you are taking Lieutenant Warrington to task for his involvement in the whiskey trading. In fact, Sheriff, while I was outside, I thought that such honesty and bravery deserved a little credit. I know you’re new in town and all, but if you’d like, my mother and I would be happy to have you and your family over for a home-cooked meal. Would you and your Mrs. like to come to our house for supper sometime soon?”
“Why, that would be right neighborly of you, ma’am. Right neighborly. I know my wife and daughter would be real happy about that.”
Alys smiled. “I’m Alys Clayton. My mother and I live at the back of town. It’s the big house. You can’t miss it. Say tonight at six?”
“Six would be fine, ma’am. Just fine.”
Again, Alys smiled and, letting herself out of the office, skipped all The way home.
Like a sick hound with his tail tucked between his legs, Lieutenant Warrington left the next day, the town fairly buzzing with the gossip.
But that wasn’t the only little bit of good news. Torn down, all around town, were the posters that had advertised a bounty of two thousand dollars upon the capture of the Wolf Shadow. Not a single poster remained.
Alys burst with the good tidings the moment she met Moon Wolf within the caves.
His reaction, however, far from being the joyous one she had expected, proved to be thoughtful.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, stepping up to him where he leaned against one of the cave’s cold walls. “Aren’t you happy about this? I think it is good.”
He nodded, sparing her a quick glance. “Aa, yes, that it is. And yet, there is more to be done, I fear.”
“What do you mean?”
“I do not believe that the lieutenant was the person behind the attacks upon the Indian people, and especially not upon the rights of my people to roam over this land. Once, I questioned him about who it was that he worked for and tricked him into telling me that there were other men who supported him.”
Alys remained silent for a moment. At length she volunteered, “You might be right, but it is not something we can do anything about right now. Come, Moon Wolf, let us at least rejoice in this major victory. Because as of tonight, you have been set free. No more have you the need to don the personage of the Wolf Shadow.”
A long, silent moment followed her statement until at length Moon Wolf grinned. “You are right. This should be a time for rejoicing. And for tonight perhaps, my wife, I should forget the rest of our problems.”
Alys grinned and scooted over to him, placing her arms around his neck. “Then perhaps we should seek out a preacher at once and get that certificate so that no one, not even the good folk from Fort Benton, could keep us apart.”
He grinned. “Perhaps we should, if that is what you wish, although I do not believe that this will make our marriage in any way more acceptable to the people at Fort Benton. But maybe it is a start. Do you know of a person from within your town who would marry us?”
“Not right now, but give me time. I will find one,” she responded. “I promise you this.”
Drums beat out a cadence as the soft atmosphere of dusk fell all around her. The wide, barren plains in the distance, the mountains, and the flat-topped buttes all glowed red under the waning, yet spectacular, sunset. The odor of prairie grass and sage filled the mountain-fresh air, while the melancholy howl of the wolves in the distance seemed to protest the end of the day.
Yet her heart ached.
Where was he?
She knew he hadn’t left her, would never leave her. But where was he?
Alys stood at the window of her home, looking out onto the prairie. From her position, she could barely make out the encampment of Indians, but it made no difference. She knew she wouldn’t find him there.
Earlier in the day, she had stood at the north bastion of the fort, looking out over the Indian encampment, watching, observing.
She had looked for him. She hadn’t found him.
She had noticed, however, the several bands of Blackfeet and Cree who had entrenched themselves around the fort; had noted, too, the colorful lodges stretching off before her, far into the distance.
It had been many years since the Indians had camped so close to Fort Benton, mainly because of the antagonism between the two peoples. But something had changed all that.
The Indians had arrived.
It must be a good thing, some of the kinder folks were saying. Relations between the two races might improve because of it, it had even been conjectured.
Perhaps, she thought. However, that didn’t help her own cause. To date, she’d had no luck finding a preacher who would marry her…to an Indian. This complication didn’t lessen her commitment to Moon Wolf, but it did bring up the ever-present question of where they would live.
More important to her now, however, was where was Moon Wolf?
Oddly enough, with his duties as the Wolf Shadow no longer required, Moon Wolf had barely been around this past week.
Always before, he would have been in the caves, an easy target for her to visit. But no longer did he treat the caves as though they were his home.
She had not even seen Makoyi; although Moon Wolf had mentioned that the animal had been absenting himself more and more from his master.
“Come to my encampment with me,” Moon Wolf had encouraged her a few days ago. But she had declined, uncertain what would await her there.
Although it was so very wrong of her, she could not help but remember what had happened to her in Canada. Of course, this situation was different; there was almost no whiskey flowing between this fort and the Indians here, and certain
ly things would be different because of that. But no amount of reasoning would give her comfort.
Where was Moon Wolf?
She needed to see him, to touch him. She needed to be held in his arms. Why didn’t he come to her?
Nothing had changed between them, she was certain of that. Yet, why had he gone? And where?
It was the uncertainty that was taking its toll on her, she was certain. Still…
Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer before she withdrew from her vigil and turned away from the window.
She had made a decision: she would go to the caves. Even if he wasn’t there, the caverns would make her feel better, their darkened tunnels and cool air comforting. Besides, his presence would always be there, always a reminder of their love. And perhaps it was a way to draw close to him in his absence.
She turned back into the room, stepping toward the entryway, where she kept her wrap.
“Alys, could I speak with you a moment?” her mother called from the sitting room.
“Certainly,” Alys responded. “A moment, please.”
Alys grabbed her shawl and threw it around her shoulders, then paced toward the other room.
“Mama, I think that I need to get something from the root cellar,” she said before stepping fully into the room. “Would you excuse me until later this evening?”
“In a moment, dear. First, come here, would you please?”
Alys stepped around the corner, her head down. “What is it, Mama?”
“Alys…”
Alys raised her head, her eyes widening as her gaze met that of…
“Moon Wolf.” Her words were part exclamation, part sigh. “What are you doing here?” In my house? she added to herself. Hadn’t he once declared he would never openly come here for her?
She stared at him as though she had never seen him before. And perhaps she hadn’t. It was Moon Wolf and yet…not.
Before her stood her husband, yes, but not the same man that she had become so accustomed to seeing these past few months. Before her stood a warrior, and, in truth, the man she loved. But never had she seen him look so well dressed…or so handsome. And despite herself, she gawked.
He stood proudly in his native garb, a white elkskin shirt draped down to his knees; long fringes, close to a foot long, hung under the arms of that shirt and at the bottom of each sleeve, trailing down over each of his wrists. On the chest of the shirt and at the shoulders had been patterned a large circular design of quillwork, the colors blue, white, and red. Leggings that fit his muscular legs so well they might have been a second skin fell to the ground ending with fringes, lagging upon the ground behind him. The same pattern of design in blue, white, and red quillwork ornamented each seam of those leggings, from the top to the bottom.
White moccasins encased his feet, quillwork and beads covering the leather completely.
He had pulled his hair into braids at each side of his head, although when he turned, she noted another braid hanging down his back. All three were tied separately with white buckskin.
Shell hairpipes, fixed together with beads, fell down from his center part, down over each braid. And over his shoulder he had slung a white goatskin robe, the garment depicting painted battle scenes. One of those battles, the prominent one facing her, included a figure wearing a wolf-shaped headdress.
“Alys,” her mother said to her, “I’m not certain that you know Brother Mark. He has come to visit with the Blackfeet while they are here at the fort.”
Alys gave her mother a considering glance, noticing for the first time the gentleman beside her, dressed all in black. Had the man been there all this time?
Alys nodded her head. “Brother Mark,” she acknowledged.
“Brother Mark,” her mother continued, “wants to go with Moon Wolf to the Indian encampment.”
“He does?”
“Yes, it seems he takes great pleasure in talking with the Indians and singing their songs, hearing their tales and discussing religion with them. There is to be a big celebration at the Indian encampment tonight, a celebration to mark the end of the whiskey trade in Canada. I think that you and Moon Wolf should accompany him there.”
“I am not certain that is a good idea, Mama. The last time I was in an Indian encampment—”
Ma Clayton didn’t wait for her daughter to finish. “I’ll be going with you, too.”
“You will? But is that wise? How can you be safe there when even I won’t go there?”
Her mother made a face. “Are you forgetting that I have often visited the Indians in the past? I still have friends there. Besides, the good reverend will be with us, plus we will be under the protection of Moon Wolf and his friends.”
“But Mama, I still am uncertain that I approve—”
“She had a bad experience at our camp in Canada,” Moon Wolf supplied. “It is only to be expected that she is fearful and so perhaps it would be better if—”
“Who said I was fearful?”
Moon Wolf raised an eyebrow.
“If my mother is going there, then I will, too.”
“Good,” said Ma Clayton. “I’m glad that that’s settled. Now, how long will it take you to dress?”
“Dress? I am dressed.”
Her mother looked her over critically. “So you are, but not as elegantly as Moon Wolf. Perhaps you could run upstairs and grab that gown that you have been working over these past few weeks. I think that would do.”
“Do for what?”
“For the celebration, of course.”
“But, Mama, I’m not sure that would be appropriate to wear on a visit with Moon Wolf’s people and—”
“I think,” Moon Wolf spoke up at last, approaching her on silent feet, “that your mother forgets to tell you that this is to be a special occasion.”
“Is it?” She raised her chin.
He nodded. “We are celebrating.”
“Are we?” She pushed back her shoulders and tilted her head, asking the question uppermost on her mind. “Where have you been?”
He took another step toward her, stopped, and frowned at her, saying, “I have had many…things that needed my attention.”
“Oh,” she turned her face away. “More than your wife, I suppose.” Darn, why had she said that? It made her sound like a fishwife. She strolled casually toward the open window in the room, putting her back to him before saying, “I’m sorry, but I think that you forgot to tell me anything about where you were going or how long you would be gone. I have worried.”
He made a move toward her, halted, and said, “I am sorry.”
She turned an uneasy glance upon him.
“I did not intend to be away so many days,” he explained, giving her a lopsided grin. “And I am not used to having a wife who is anxious for me.”
She squared her shoulders and faced back into the room, smiling slightly before she bit her lip. “All right,” she offered easily enough, “I am glad you have returned.”
He nodded once, and she glanced back toward her mother, asking, “What are we celebrating?”
“You will see, but you must go and get your things.”
“I could simply change here.”
“No,” asserted her mother. “Dear, please go collect your things. Moon Wolf has offered to carry me to his village that I may partake in the ceremony.”
“What is this ceremony?”
“You will see.”
“But—”
“Alys,” her mother urged, “hurry along now and do as you are asked, please, for there is something else that needs doing.”
“Oh?” Alys crossed her arms and planted her feet.
“Now don’t be giving me one of your looks. There is simply more that needs doing.”
“More than what? Mama, what are you trying to tell me? I’m not leaving until you’ve told me all.”
Ma Clayton sighed and looked temporarily baffled. Finally, she asked, “You haven’t by any chance found more than just gold in those caves
, have you?”
Stunned, Alys turned toward her mother, her glance taking in the reverend, and then Mrs. Clayton. “Mama,” she said, “you told me never to breathe a word of our caves to anyone, not even to our pastor. And what do you mean, just gold?”
Her mother shrugged. “There is other treasure besides gold in those caves.”
“There is?”
“I reckon I should have told you this long before. It’s only that I’ve been so derned sick; but I’m beginning to feel better now and I’ve been thinking.” Ma Clayton drew a deep bream. “Now it’s true that there’s gold in the caves, but I don’t rightly know where the vein is, and I haven’t particularly cared about it. But there’s another treasure there, one I’ve never told you about because I couldn’t be certain that your father had hidden it there and then I didn’t want—”
“Mama, whoa! You’re not making sense to me. Back up now. What treasure?”
“A deed, Alys. Your father left us a deed to some property.”
Alys stood as though dazed. “A deed?”
“Yep, three hundred acres south of the Sun River were deeded to him in the forties.”
“Three hundred acres?”
“That’s right.” Ma Clayton sat up straight, her eyes staring at a picture in front of her, but her mind obviously far removed from it and from this room. She continued, “Do you remember how I told you that your father had served in the Mexican war?”
Alys nodded.
“He was one of those thousands of men who trooped into Vera Cruz in March of forty-seven. What I didn’t tell you, child, was that this land was deeded to him in partial payment for his services. Land in the Montana Territory. It was the reason we came out here to settle at all, for your father was not a fur-trading man.”
“Then why don’t we live on this land now instead of here in Fort Benton? You and I have never liked it here.”
“Because,” her mother explained, “in the beginning, back in the late forties, we settlers felt we needed the company of other people like ourselves, to fend off Indian attacks. Not that there’s been any, mind you, but there were always stories. When your father helped to found this town, he also discovered the caves and a strain of gold within ’em. But this land was the property of the American Fur Company, it was not something he could buy. So we remained here, and in secret your father mined them caves.”
