by J. R. WRIGHT
Oh God, Luke, I do love you! Please try to understand.
Breanne
Luke was so angry by the time he finished the teardrop blurred letter, he near tore it up. Would there ever be an end to the bleeding of this woman’s heart when it came to her doing what she perceived to be right ahead of her own desires and future happiness? Sarah would never have done this, and look who had his affections the longest.
Luke then pulled a pencil from his pocket, and at the bottom of her letter wrote: “Now that I’ve found you again, you won’t be getting rid of me that easy, my dear. When you’re ready to come, no matter how long it takes, I’ll be here waiting. Rest assured of that, Breanne. And do keep writing. Yours always, Luke”
Of course he never figured it would take forever. Surely Harry would be dead before long, if he was as bad as Breanne let on. And he had no reason to think otherwise.
Luke then refolded the letter, included it with the one he had written the previous night but left unsealed purposely in case there was something he thought to add later, marched back into the post office, and mailed it.
On the way out of town, riding the red stallion, Luke decided to take the long route to the ranch, going by way of Fort Laramie. He missed his daughter and yearned to see her again. Not that he didn’t miss the Tea Cup, and those there, but he missed Tana Star even more right now.
“Daddy, Daddy,” she hopped off the counter where Cola dealt with a customer, and ran to him when he entered the store on the third day after leaving Cheyenne.
“Tana Star!” Luke scooped her off her feet. “I missed you.” He gave her a big hug.
“I missed you too, Daddy. Where have you been?”
“I had to take a trip, honey. But now I’m back.” Luke noticed Cola smiling toward them from behind the counter.
“Did you go to see Mommy in heaven, Daddy?”
“Well, that’s a little far to go right now. But I do promise to make the trip someday, okay?”
With that, Cola laughed.
“Can you go today? I know she misses you.”
“I miss her too, honey. But a person can’t just run off to heaven whenever they have a notion to. You have to have a special invite to go there.”
“From who?”
“From the man upstairs, I guess. But we shouldn’t be concerned about that right now, okay?” He sat Tana down on the counter where she had been when he came in.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Tom,” Cola greeted him. “James is back at the bar.”
“Thanks.” Luke went in that direction only to find Tana Star had hopped off the counter again and soon had her hand in his as they walked along.
“Tom!” Bordeaux greeted cheerfully from behind the bar, the room crowded with soldiers. “It’s been a while.” He extended his hand as Luke approached. “Where have you been?”
Luke sat Tana Star on the bar and took the hand for a firm shake. “I found her, James… I found Breanne! She has been in Hannesville, New York, all this time.”
“My God! How did you ever locate her there?”
“It was a hunch. Sarah had been communicating with her for years, under her married name.”
“Sarah knew her?”
“She kept it from me, James. They met in Independence when Breanne was brought down river by that missionary I told you about.”
“So have you seen her? Is she coming here?” Bordeaux tossed up his hands.
“I just returned from there,” Luke said. “That’s where I’ve been for these past months. Unfortunately, she won’t be coming for a while.”
“Why?” Bordeaux studied him.
“Well, now, that part is complicated. When you’re less busy I’ll get into it. Later, okay?” Luke glanced to Tana Star and saw her hanging onto his every word.
“Sure. Well, it’s good you found her. Whiskey?”
“Why not!” Luke looked around to the many soldiers at the tables, and others playing pool. “What’s the Indian situation like?”
“Everything is quiet. Chaska, Bright Moon, and the kids were here three weeks ago for a visit. Chaska said all was fine so far at the Dakotah camp, now that they have decided to include him as a counsel chief.”
“Are the miners staying clear of the Hills?”
“Oh, hell no!” Bordeaux doubled back. “They ain’t a day goes by that wagons don’t pass through here heading that way. Some of them even stop and ask directions. A big train went through six weeks or so ago, five hundred freight wagons, loaded completely with lumber. It came from Cheyenne.”
“What the hell are they building in there, a town?”
“Exactly. They’re naming it Stonewall. It’s near French Creek. Now I hear another town is going up in Deadwood Gulch, to the north end of the Black Hills, in the same general area of the Belle Fourche River where Chaska’s camp was.”
“Thank God they got out when they did, then,” Luke took on a concerned look. “A bunch of crazy miners would never let a few Indians stand in their way when gold is discovered under their feet. And there’s gold there, we know that. Chaska’s people collected about a thousand pounds of it, and that was on the surface.”
“A half a ton of gold!” Bordeaux smoothed his beard. “Where in hell are they keeping that, where it’s safe?”
“They aren’t; I am. It’s buried in a cave at my ranch. I wanted you to know in case something happens to me. The only other person that knows is Calvin Tinkman.”
“Doesn’t the tribe want to know where their gold went?”
“They don’t want anything to do with it. They think evil spirits put it there so the white man would come and take their sacred hills away.”
“Does Chaska know where it is?”
“I told him, but he doesn’t seem to care much about money, or the white man’s ways. My thoughts are he’ll need that gold someday, and when he does, it’ll be there for him and his people.”
“I agree. You can count on me to keep the secret, and point him in the right direction if and when the time comes.”
Until now Tana Star had been content with watching all the action in the room, now it started to annoy her. “Daddy, I want to go see Auntie Cola.”
“Okay, honey.” He lifted her down and watched her run out to the store. He wondered now if he wasn’t losing her because of his long absences.
“I want to thank you again, Tom, for letting us raise that little bundle of joy. You can’t know what a change she has made in Cola’s outlook on life in general.”
“Well then, in that case, I wouldn’t think of taking her away. Not just yet, anyway.”
“Now, come on, Tom!” Bordeaux took on an angry look and came closer. “You have to agree we’ll at least share in raising Tana Star, no matter what.”
“I’ve already agreed to that, and I won’t change my mind. All I’m asking is if Tana Star wants to, when Breanne finally comes, she can spend more time at the ranch.”
“You’re that certain she’s coming?”
“I’m counting on it.” Luke looked away, not wanting to think of the alternative.
“Good, then I hope she does. You had me worried for a minute, you may pop in here one day and carry Tana Star off kicking and screaming.” Bordeaux’s face softened to a smile.
“You can rest assured that won’t happen, James.” Luke drained his glass and shoved it over for a refill. “I see you have competition down the road. I never go that way anymore, so it’s the first I’ve seen of it.”
“The Pig Ranch? It’s a whorehouse, Tom.” Bordeaux nearly filled Luke’s glass this time, instead of the half glass he usually poured. “I can’t see how that’s any competition to me. Besides, it won’t be there long anyway. A gal that’s been in here before, Martha Canary – also calls herself Calamity Jane – told one of my regulars, they’re moving the whole operation to Deadwood, once the town is built.”
“Whorehouse! That’s good to know.”
“Why, are you planning on paying them a vis
it?”
“Just the opposite. Now I know never to stop in there for a drink. Those gals probably take turns pissing in the whiskey.” Luke laughed.
“What do you know about whorehouses, Tom? You ever been to one?”
“Hell, I grew up in one. Don’t tell me there’s a segment of my life you haven’t heard yet?”
“I guess there is. Care to tell me about it?”
“The name of the place was The Blue Bear. I wasn’t much older than Tana Star when I entered the place for the first time…”
Luke stayed on at Laramie for two more days and spent most of that time with Tana Star. In the future he vowed not to stay away so long. He certainly didn’t want to lose her. At such a tender age, he feared he may never get her back again if that happened.
Then, before he left, he pulled Cola aside. From his pocket then he came out with the gold bird claw and pearl necklace that had once belonged to White Bird. Mary had given it to him only days after the funeral. He had carried it with him ever since.
Seeing it, Cola watered up immediately and covered her mouth.
“When you think the time is right,” Luke said, “I’d like Tana Star to have this.” He handed it over.
“She was never without it, Tom,” Cola said, and drew it to her chest. “Tana will remember it. I think she should have it now, don’t you? She hasn’t a thing of her mother’s as it is. I often wondered why it wasn’t kept back. It was her favorite possession.”
“So you’re not angry it didn’t go with her?”
“Heavens no,” Cola admired the necklace. “Those old ways aren’t practiced much anymore.”
“Well, then I guess you can thank Mary. She did it without asking me. She had Tana Star in mind, too.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Cola said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll give it to her when she’s in her night dress, later. That way she can sleep with it the first night.”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that, Cola,” Luke said. “You’re her mother now.”
With that, Cola’s eyes glassed over again. “Do you mean that, Tom?”
“I can’t think of a better one!”
Luke allowed her in for a hug.
“You are the Dawn,” Cola whispered into his ear. “Uen gnah sh nee yea hee ay liab kay lah dah chah jee, Tom Hill.” (May you be alive to see the last tomorrow…)
Hearing that, even Luke drew up some tears. Now he wondered if at his age, he was becoming soft. God, he hoped not. His heart told him there was yet work to be done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
April 1876
Spring came early at the Tea Cup. By the fifteenth of April, the heavy blanket of winter snow had melted away, and the resulting runoff found its way to creeks and streams, and on to the roaring, mountain fed river that flowed through it.
Even the normally shallow, sand barred Platte was flowing wide and deep when Luke reached it and sought a place to cross on his way down to the south range, the ten thousand acres where the shipping corrals had been built the year before last.
He rode west on the river to a location just above where Horse Creek flowed into it before chancing a crossing that required the red stallion to swim a goodly distance. Of course, this left the both of them traveling wet for a good while afterward, as the afternoon sun slowly performed its miracles. Thankfully, wet buckskins were just as warm, if not warmer than dry ones, once over the initial shock of cold. It was the discomfort of them clinging to his skin that made Luke miserable for a time.
Traveling south now, another day’s ride brought Luke to the north edge of his southern Wyoming property. From there he could see the herd of yearling calves that had been brought along with the eight thousand grass fat steers and heifers shipped to Swift the fall before. The calves were already nibbling at tender shoots of spring grass, he noticed as he rode on. It was Calvin Tinkman’s idea to make better use of this place and saw to it that enough hay was put up here to winter a few thousand head. A cabin was hurriedly built as well to accommodate the four unmarried ranch hands left behind to tend them. Only three of them on horseback, however, could be counted at various points around the herd. That is, until Luke finally saw the loaded hay wagon coming his way from far in the distance.
Satisfied all was well, Luke then turned the stallion toward Cheyenne, a few miles away, and kicked him to a lope. He would have stopped to visit for a spell, but Luke was anxious to make it to the post office before it closed for the day. Mail hadn’t been gathered since late in the fall, when Grady was there last, just before thanksgiving. A few waves of his hat would just have to do for now.
There were no less than five letters from Breanne brought by Grady that time, and because of the fierce winter, Luke hadn’t had a chance to post a response until now. He had a fat letter in his saddlebags ready for mailing today, providing he got there in time. Thank God he had remembered to hold the bags high while he and the stallion forded the Platte, or it wouldn’t be fit for mailing at all.
Thank goodness, the tone of Breanne’s letters had changed since that first one he’d received upon returning to Cheyenne from Hannisville last year. The later ones were more of a trip down good memory lane concerning his visit, with hope of being together again soon laced neatly between every line. In fact, much of what she wrote in them were riddles that only the two of them could possibly make heads or tails of. One line in particular he remembered was. “I hope you haven’t forgotten where you took me on the first night of your visit, I definitely want to go there again someday.”
It even took him awhile to figure it out. He hadn’t taken her anywhere, except to bed. He felt foolish then for not having come up with it before. Then, to prove to Breanne he had, he responded in his return letter: “Come to me, my darling, and I will take you wherever you want to go, each and every night.”
Squinting at the sun as he galloped into town, Luke calculated he had arrived in plenty of time, and eased the horse to a trot. Inside the post office, he discovered from the clock on the wall that there were fifteen minutes to spare. Who needed a watch, he told himself as he posted the letter and collected four months of mail?
Going through it quickly he picked out four additional letters from Breanne and shoved the remainder of the mail in the saddlebags. Then, sorting them by postmark for day sent, he began reading the first even before reaching his horse. What he read there caused him to stop dead in his tracks.
Luke, Harry has died! He passed away in his sleep last night. I am waiting here at the house now for the undertaker to arrive with his coach. Aren’t I sinful writing to you while my husband of thirty-three years lies dead on his bed in the adjoining room? How can my heart be so filled with joy, when his daughters have yet to receive the news, he’s gone? At this point I’m not sure I’m still worthy of calling myself a Christian…
Checking the date of this letter again, he found it to be February twenty-fifth. Luke skimmed the rest of the letter, then went on to the next. Boarding the horse, he steered it in the direction of the hotel and let it have its head as he read. It was dated March tenth.
Dearest Luke,
I’m sorry I haven’t written sooner, but so much has been going on. Harry’s funeral was three days after he passed. Unfortunately, my youngest daughter Susie was unable to make it in time from Oregon country. She is, however, here now and has plans to stay until June, having gained permission from the Church to do so. I know this must come as a disappointment to you, but you must understand we haven’t been together in over two years.
I’m not sure you have even received my other letter yet. I remember you saying you don’t have access to mail during the worst months of winter. Knowing this, I will try not to write again until I hear from you…
June? That was a disappointment, but under the circumstances he understood. At least now he knew she was coming and when. That in itself was happy news. As far as her not writing again, apparently she had; he had two more letters in his hand.
By this time the red stallion had arrived at the hotel. To avoid being conspicuous, then, Luke dismounted, took his saddlebags, and entered. Willie Wilder greeted him as he approached the check-in counter.
“Willie,” Luke put out a hand, which Wilder took immediately, “I want your advice.”
“Yes, sir!”
“I’m thinking about building another hotel. Now, I want you to tell me I’m crazy?”
“Not at all, sir,” Willie said without hesitation. “As a matter of fact, I was going to suggest it. We’re full most all the time now, generally turning people away. We could use another one to catch the overflow. Where would you build it, sir?”
“I was thinking in the area where the new capitol building will be built, in a few years.”
“But that’s near three miles away. There’s nothing there yet.”
“But there will be someday. The way I have it planned, that will eventually be the center of Cheyenne.” Luke took his key and headed for the stairs. “Think on it, Willie, and let me know.”
“I will, sir.” Willie came around the counter. “By the way, we’ve got running water.”
“What?” Luke paused and turned about.
“Those drawings you gave Kenny Hardy. Well, he and his plumbers labored most of the winter on it. It’s been working for near a month now. All ninety-six rooms.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” Luke looked up the stairs and headed on up, anxious to check it out. Once in the apartment, he found the claw footed tub in the largest bedroom. It was the one he used and kept his finer clothes in. Immediately, then, he turned the valves full open to draw a bath, and laughed as the tub filled. Was there anything Kenny couldn’t do, he thought proudly?
Looking around the apartment, then, he saw Gracie Johnson’s things were still in one of the spare bedrooms, but no Gracie. Now he started to wonder. Had she and Kenny hit it off?
