Sweet Mountain Magic

by Rosanne Bittner

  “If they had been spread out grazing and we had come upon them and started a stampede, we would have been part of the mud under their hooves right quick,” Sage commented.

  It seemed to take an eternity for the entire herd to pass, and Mary again contemplated the most unusual turn her life had taken. What was a woman of her breeding doing sitting here with a man like Sage MacKenzie, watching a herd of buffalo thunder past her not ten feet away? She wanted to laugh, but was afraid of startling the shaggy beasts, some of which had to weigh a ton or more.

  “Staple of the Indian,” Sage told her when they started moving again. “Just about everything the Indian needs to survive comes from the buffalo. If the whites ever start killing off those beasts, then you’ll see Indian trouble like you’ve never seen before, mark my words. Kill off the buffalo, and you kill off the Indian without firing a shot.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone could ever completely wipe out the buffalo, Sage. There are so many of them!”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He seemed to be pondering the point. “There’s also a lot of whites east of the Mississippi, and more and more of them are coming out every year. Never underestimate the lengths they might go to to settle this land once they decide they want it.”

  She turned and watched the buffalo lumber on into the distance. No. Surely it wasn’t possible to kill all of them. Surely there were enough to go around, and even if a few had to be killed for progress, there would still be plenty left for the Indians.

  They had been traveling six weeks when they reached Bent’s Fort on the Arkansas River in southeast Colorado. The fort was a major trading post along the Santa Fe Trail, over which supply trains moved almost daily to and from New Mexico.

  Now they saw plenty of Cheyenne, for the Indians camped around the fort almost constantly, trading their own blankets and robes for supplies, making deals for whiskey and food. Mary watched them curiously, but without the horrible fear that had once gripped her whenever she saw an Indian. They were not so different from the Utes, but they were somewhat taller and, she thought, more handsome.

  Some of the Indian women looked at her and smiled, then whispered to each other about the pretty white woman with the amazing violet eyes. Sage called out to some of them, giving the sign of friendship as they went through the huge wooden doors and into the open area inside.

  The fort was a welcome sight, a bustling adobe structure surrounded by high walls that enclosed what really was a small city. A few American soldiers milled about inside, and most of the men there took a second look at Mary as she and Sage rode into the fort.

  “We can really stock up here,” Sage was telling her. “And find out what the hell is going on in the outside world.”

  He rode up to a supply house and dismounted, tying his horse and then tying Mary’s, reaching up then to help her down.

  “Sage! Sage MacKenzie,” someone shouted.

  Sage turned to greet an old, wrinkled man dressed in soiled buckskins and sporting a beard halfway down his chest. “Shooter! You old rascal! You still alive? I thought the Crow got you a couple years back.”

  “That what you heard? Hell, you shoulda knowed better than to think any redskin could put down ole Shooter. I been around too long. But they did leave me a little souvenir.” He lifted his hat and Mary’s eyes widened at an ugly pink scar on the front of his scalp. “Someday I’m gonna see some Injun wearin’ my hair in his belt, and he’s gonna be a sorry man.” The man cackled in laughter, then took note of Mary. “The woman with you?”

  Sage nodded. “Met her on a wagon train up by Fort Bridger,” he told the man. “Fell plum head over heels and married her. We’re headed for Texas. She’s got family there.”

  Shooter looked ready to faint. “You? Sage MacKenzie? You took a wife?”

  “Well, hell, Shooter, look at her. How could I let her slip away from me? She took a liking to me, and I figured nothing prettier would ever come along and latch on to me, so I married her. Besides, it’s time I settled.”

  Shooter shook his head, scratching at his chin. “Lordy, Lordy. I got to agree,” he said, looking her over again. “She’s a lot to pass up.”

  Sage laughed. “Mary, this is Shooter. Don’t ask me his real name, ’cause I don’t know and I don’t think he does either. Shooter, this is Mary.”

  The man bowed, actually reddening. “How-do, ma’am. I gotta say, Sage got himself the prettiest woman west of the Mississippi.”

  Mary smiled. “Thank you, Shooter. I’m glad to meet you.”

  “Shooter and I traveled a lot together. He taught me a lot about the mountains, trapping beaver, all that. Hell, it’s good to see you, Shooter. What are you doing way down here?”

  The man shrugged. “You know me. I git around. Can’t sit still for long. Beaver trappin’ is pretty near dead now. Thought I’d come down here and see what I could get in the way of a scoutin’ position, what with the army comin’ here and all.”

  “Army? What’s going on?”

  “Hell, there’s gonna be war with Mexico. Everybody knows it. President of the United States done offered to buy up New Mexico, Arizona, California, a whole bunch of Mexican territory, and Mexico won’t sell. So the President figures to take it anyway, by force. Folks don’t expect it to be much of a battle, seein’ as how Mexico is so scared of us after that thing over Texas. They know how we can fight, and we got the better weapons. But it’ll be a war nonetheless. They’re expectin’ soldiers to come through here any time. You say you’re headed for Texas?”

  “That’s our plan.”

  “Well, good luck. I don’t reckon there will be any real trouble in Texas anyway. It will be mostly in New Mexico and Mexico itself, maybe some in California. These men who trade in Santa Fe are takin’ a risk every day. The Mexicans are startin’ to attack them, and even hirin’ Indians to help. I’d stay away from the trail and keep headin’ east.”

  “That’s our intention. We need to rest up a couple of days, though, stock up on supplies.”

  “Well, I’ll just help you check things out and make sure you get a real nice room. Bent’s got a few to let above there, but they’re mostly full. We can kick out some no-good and make way for the lady. You go on and get your supplies and I’ll see you get a place to stay.”

  He looked Mary over again, shaking his head. “If you ain’t the lucky one, Sage MacKenzie. I wish I was sharin’ my bedroll with somethin’—oh, sorry, ma’am.” He reddened again. “That weren’t a very nice remark. What I mean is, you’re about the prettiest thing I ever did see. Sage here, he’s a good man. He’ll do right by you. And under all that hair, he’s even almost good-lookin’. It’s a good thing you caught him afore he got old like me and so set in his ways he can’t settle no more.”

  Mary smiled as the man waved them off and left to find them a room. She looked up at Sage. “Why did you lie about us, Sage, about how we met?”

  He shrugged. “Why go through all the explanations? We won’t be here long, and I don’t want any of them thinking things that aren’t true just because we aren’t married legally. I just couldn’t see bothering with all the details and dragging you through it at the same time.” He put an arm around her. “Besides, you are my wife, far as I’m concerned. Come on. Let’s see if we can find what we need before the army comes through here and cleans the place out.”

  “Sage, do you think we’re in any danger—I mean, war with Mexico. I wonder if everything is all right at home.”

  “Shooter says Texas won’t be involved all that much. It’s part of the United States now. I expect the war will stay well to the south, if it comes to be.”

  The little room they shared was quiet, once Sage shut the heavy wooden door and latched it. There were no windows, and Sage had to light a lamp. Now they lay stretched out together on a bed made of logs with wide rawhide strips stretched across and tied as supports and a thin feather mattress on top of that. When Sage lay down, the rawhide stretched, making Mary roll to the center. She laughed and stay
ed there, finding it impossible to move away without hanging on to the edge of the bed.

  “I’m not sure this is going to work,” she told him.

  He rolled on top of her, pushing up the gown she wore. “I think it will work just fine, for now. Later I’ll sleep on the floor in a bedroll and you can have this thing to yourself.”

  His hand moved over a bare hip and she fingered his soft beard. “I’m not sure I would be getting the better deal.”

  “Beats sleeping on the hard ground again, out in the cold.”

  The room smelled of leather and furs. The day had been quite warm, but the room was cool, thanks to the thick adobe walls, which also shut out a great deal of the noise of the bustling fort outside.

  “What a fine meal we had, Sage. I like it here. I can’t believe Mr. Bent keeps women here to cook home-cooked meals for the travelers. Imagine! Apple pie! Wasn’t it wonderful? This is the closest to civilization we’ve been since—” She stopped, but not before he sensed what she was thinking.

  “It feels good to you, doesn’t it—being someplace even just a little bit civilized.”

  She reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, Sage, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. But it doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about anything. I’m so used to living this way, I don’t even think about it anymore. Besides, we could live near a place like this, where there’s just enough civilization for supplies and some kind of social life, yet close enough to the wilds that you could go out any time you wanted and hunt and be free and alone.”

  He smiled sadly. “You aren’t home yet. That’s a far cry even from this place.”

  Their eyes held. “Sage, now it’s you doubting. I love you. That’s the only thing I know for sure right now. I don’t want to lose you. You’ve given something up for me, and I’ll be giving something up for you. We’ll be even. And maybe we can find a happy medium.”

  He’d gone to bed naked, already knowing what he needed to do. Now it seemed even more urgent. “We’ll have to,” he answered. “I’ve got to be with my woman. I need you, Mary, but I feel things closing in around us. Another couple of months and we’ll be in Austin.” He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. “Sorry about the beard.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as he kissed her throat, then unbuttoned her gown and kissed the whites of her breasts. He pulled the gown open farther, lightly tasting her nipple as he moved between her legs. It had been a long time. Neither of them wanted to wait.

  She no longer worried over whether this was right or wrong. She loved him and needed him. There was no turning back now. What was done was done, and in their hearts it was right.

  Things were different out here in this wild land. As Sage had said, some people married just so a widowed woman could have a man to look after her and her children. Many marriages occurred quickly, for people felt the pressure of the dangers of the land. A person could die in his next breath. And some, like herself and Sage, married only in heart and mind, with full intentions of being as true to each other as any legally married couple could be. Pieces of paper didn’t matter much out here.

  Her life had changed, probably forever. Sage was a part of that change. Maybe all this was meant to be. Who could tell? She only knew that when this big man touched her and took pleasure in her, it gave her a wonderful joy, brought on a lovely ecstasy, different from anything she had experienced with Rafe.

  Yes, Rafe had been good to her, had brought out her passions, and she had loved him dearly. But she had never known him the way she had come to know Sage MacKenzie. Somehow their relationship was deeper and more meaningful than hers and Rafe’s had ever been.

  She sucked in her breath as he entered her. Such a long time it had been! She welcomed him with gentle, rhythmic movements, arching up to meet him with precise timing that made him groan with the pleasure of it. It seemed so strange that this big, strong man needed her, and she was sure she was helping fill the void he had experienced in his life after his parents had been killed and he had been alone for so long.

  Sage MacKenzie needed to be loved, and she would do the loving. She needed a good, strong man, and that was what he was. They were right for each other. And neither of them ever tired of the other physically.

  Outside, the fort kept up a rhythm of its own. Night fires dotted the wide lands around the fort, casting their glows on tipis. The cooks were already preparing food to be used the next morning for breakfast, and a team of supply wagons arrived late from the Santa Fe Trail, with stories about upheaval in Santa Fe. Merchants there smelled war and were afraid to keep dealing with the Americans. But in the little room above was a couple who had been through too much to be overly concerned about a war with Mexico.

  They moved through the still, hot plains, a sea of high grasses that made the land seem flat when it really was not. It was actually made up of one swell after another. Between each swell was a dip in the ground that took a rider completely out of sight momentarily. A herd of buffalo in the distance would look close but distorted, appearing and disappearing sometimes for one or two hours, then suddenly reappearing surprisingly close.

  This was a land that fooled the eyes and senses. It was a land in which the native Indians could hide with amazing agility, able to stay out of sight even though there was not one tree or rock to use for cover. More than once, Sage and Mary came upon the red men who owned the vast ocean of grass and its buffalo, and each time Sage managed to deal peacefully with them, trading food and tobacco for safe passage through their territory. Mary could see that the Indians sensed and respected Sage’s knowledge of their ways and understood he was not afraid of them.

  Mary felt stronger with every mile. The prairie sun browned her skin and seemed to bring a new strength to her blood. The long journey had toned her muscles and her dark hair had a red tint to it from the sun’s bleaching effects. She was proud of how she could cook on the trail, sleep on the ground, build a fire. On the prairie there was no wood, so they resorted to buffalo “chips,” as Sage called them. They were actually pieces of dried buffalo manure, and they made a good, hot fire, turning to red coals that lasted several hours with very little smoke.

  She learned where to look for water and how to conserve it. And she learned that though this land looked lifeless, it was teeming with life—small animals hidden in the deep grasses, millions of buffalo, Indians. The land itself seemed to constantly move, rippling and swaying in wavelike swells, the gently rhythmic grasses changing from green to yellow to green again, then yellow again. Her hands were calloused in the right places, so that holding the reins of her horse no longer made them sore.

  The land changed again, the hills becoming higher, a few trees appearing. “If my guess is right, this should be the Cimarron,” Sage told her when they came upon a wide river. “From here on I’m not much more familiar with the land than you are. Only thing I can do is keep us moving south till we come upon some kind of settlement where people can direct us to Austin.”

  “We aren’t far now, are we?”

  “A month at the most, I’d guess.”

  She remained silent. A month. One short month from all the familiar things she had left behind over a year ago now. Her baby. Her precious baby! And poor Rafe. What were her mother and father like by now, thinking her dead?

  Her mother had hated Texas. Surely she hated it even more now. Maybe she had blamed her father for what had happened. That would be so sad. Her father had been so good to them, and she knew the man loved her with something close to worship. To lose not just their daughter, but their son-in-law and granddaughter, must have been unbearable.

  She could only pray they were still there and still well, and that they wouldn’t be so shocked to see her again that it would affect their health. And she also had to pray that they would like Sage and would appreciate all he had done. If not, even though she would hate to have to leave them again, she would do so. She would go with Sage wherever he wanted to ta
ke her.

  After several more days they came upon a village of log buildings below a rise. They were well past the Cimarron. Horses and wagons milled about, and Sage could see even from the distance that the people had very dark skin, even though many of them were dressed in white man’s clothing.

  “What are they?” Mary asked.

  Sage shook his head. “Not sure. First Indians I’ve seen that look half civilized. But then I’ve never been this far south and east.”

  “Maybe they’re Cherokee.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  “Cherokee. I saw some Indians in Texas that dressed like that—some even had farms and houses. They were quite civilized. But the government and citizens chased them out. Texas has been trying for years to get rid of all its Indians.”

  “I never knew there were Cherokee Indians in Texas. I remember from my boyhood and from things I’ve heard that the Cherokees are mostly in the south.”

  “They were. But the government there forced them out. A lot of them came to Texas when it still belonged to Mexico, then had to leave there when Texas citizens made them go. I don’t really know everything about it. I only know we used to have Cherokees around, but a lot of them were already leaving when we moved to Austin. I remember sometimes whole families moved out with all their belongings in one little wagon. There were rumors some were forced out in the middle of the night and given no time to collect everything. They had to leave their farms behind.”

  Sage frowned and studied the settlement. “Nobody did anything about it?”

  “No. The government was behind it, and most of the people.”

  “Your father?”

  “I don’t know. I was so small. I just know the story in bits and pieces.”