He looked down at her. “It must have been quite a shock for you to see him. There’s no mistaking he’s Indian, is there? Can you believe he’s my father? I mean, look at us. Two men couldn’t be more different.”
She smiled softly. “In looks, yes. But in talking to him, I know where you got your strength and your size, and on the inside I don’t think you’re as different as you think you are. Go and see him, James.”
He breathed deeply again, sitting a little straighter in the saddle. “I had a strange feeling all day that something was amiss. I felt him, Willena. That’s the way it is with my father. He gives off a kind of power. I guess that always intimidated me a little. He probably never meant it to. That’s just the way it was.”
“He would never want it that way. If he intimidates you, it’s all in your mind. Open your mind, James, and your heart. Let go of the past.”
He sniffed and wiped his eyes again, nodding and turning his horse. He headed around the side of the house and up a pathway that led into thick pines in the hills above. Every nerve end felt alive and on fire. He actually wondered if he would get so light-headed that he would fall off his horse. It occurred to him that the contrast between father and son would be made even greater by the expensive suit of clothes he was wearing. But there was no time to change into anything else. He dreaded this moment, yet wanted nothing more than to have it over with.
He moved several hundred yards uphill until he reached a clearing in the trees that was hidden from the house. Then he saw him, sitting on a large rock watching.
Caleb’s own heart quickened. James! He was a grown man. Until this moment he had been unable to picture him as anything but the teenager who had left them in Colorado. James halted his horse and slowly dismounted, standing at a distance. Caleb could see the young man was practically frozen where he stood. Caleb had to make the first move. He walked in long strides toward his son.
James stared at an ageing, graying man, realizing for the first time his father had grown old. Just as Caleb had pictured James not even grown, James had always pictured his father the way he looked when he left. But he was not surprised that Caleb Sax still stood tall and looking rock hard.
All the lies and guilt swept through James as he hung his head and broke into unwanted tears. In a moment the man who should hate him more than anyone was embracing him firmly. Much as he fought it, James could not control his weeping. He flung his arms around his father, feeling like a child, begging his forgiveness.
“I forgive you, Son, if you’ll forgive me for anything I did that kept us from being close.”
James felt the odd heaviness he always felt in his chest begin to lighten, and he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Caleb. Caleb’s heart went out to him, and his own tears came. He thanked Maheo that this young man had not taken his life before Caleb could get to him.
How long they stood there holding each other neither was sure. Finally Caleb kept an arm around James’s waist, leading him to the rock. “Come and sit down, James. Everything is going to be all right.”
“But . . . Mother . . . Mother. . .” He couldn’t get all the words out, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and blew his nose and wiped his eyes.
“Your mother always thought the best of you, James, and her years in California were good ones. She died happy, and her last words were of you and Cale. I promised I’d come back and find both of you before I’m gone, too.”
They sat down on the rock and James hung his head. “Cale, When you see him—”
“I’ve already seen him.”
James turned red, swollen eyes to meet his father’s, realizing then that Caleb Sax’s eyes were the same as always, a deep, discerning blue. It was his eyes that made him seem younger than he really was. They were still handsome and compelling. “You’ve seen Cale? And you can still come here and act as if everything is all right?” He looked away. “My God, Father, don’t you realize what I did?”
Caleb sighed deeply. “James, a man can’t live his whole life worrying about the mistakes he’s made. He can only learn from them and go on from there, especially when he has a wife and family who love him and depend on him. I’m here to make things right, not just for Sarah, but for myself, and for you. When I met your wife and saw those children, I knew that in spite of his mistakes, my son also did a lot of things right. And because he has his mother’s blood in him, he also has a hell of a lot of good in him. When Willena told me what happened after Sand Creek, I knew you had suffered enough. Why should I add to it by coming here and condemning you? You’re my son. No matter what kind of mistakes he made, you would never stop loving little James Jr., would you?”
James wiped his eyes again. “Of course not.”
“And I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s out in the open now. You’ve told people you’re part Indian. You understand now that a man can’t deny his own being. And Willena still loves you.”
James swallowed, breathing deeply to stay in control. “Willena. She’s so good to me, Father. She’s a good wife. She reminds me so much . . . of Mother.”
Caleb put a hand on his arm. “Yes, that was my first thought when I met her.”
James met his eyes again. “You saw it, too?”
He realized then what great sorrow his father must be suffering. Losing Sarah had to be the worst loss of the man’s life. “Of course I saw it. But then sometimes I see Sarah in everything, James—in the sun, the flowers, in every grandchild. I even see her in Tom’s children, even though her blood doesn’t flow in their veins. But she was so good to them, and they loved her so much. Her influence somehow radiates in them.”
James stood up, walking a few feet away. “How can I make amends, Father? There must be something—”
“There is something you can do. It would really be more for Sarah, and for your sister Lynda.”
James faced him. “What, Father? I’ll do anything.”
Caleb saw sincerity and love in the young man’s eyes. “Cale lost his wife and two of his children at Sand Creek.”
James closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. “Sweet Jesus,” he groaned. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “I should have . . . pulled the goddamned trigger . . . before Willena got to me.”
In the next second his father was grasping his arms and shaking him. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel worse again, James. I love you. We all love you. Look at me, James.”
James met the man’s eyes, trembling with agony over Cale’s loss. “You can help Cale, James.”
More tears ran down James’s face. “How in God’s name can I do that now?”
“He has one son left. He’s only five years old, a beautiful child called Little Eagle. He’s my great-grandson, James, mine and Sarah’s. Cale knows that in the end the Indians will lose. He doesn’t want Little Eagle to grow up on a reservation. I want you to take him to California for me—to Lynda. Lynda never got to see Cale again and probably never will now. Nothing would lift her heart more than to see her grandson, to keep him and raise him.”
James nodded. “Yes. That would surely be best for the boy . . . and for Lynda.”
“Bringing Little Eagle to Lynda to raise would be wonderful for her. Cale loves his last remaining son, but he intends to fight to his death for what he knows is right. He is afraid Little Eagle will get killed or end up living out his life on a reservation. I told him I’d find a way to get the boy out to Lynda.”
James looked at his father in astonishment. “And you really want me to do it?”
“Why not? I can think of no better person to be in charge of Little Eagle. While you’re in California, you could visit your mother’s grave and could see the rest of the family—see Tom and Lynda and all your nieces and nephews. If you want, you could leave all the unhappiness you’ve known here in Colorado and start a whole new life in California, open another store there, maybe in San Francisco. The way I hear it, you’re always looking to expand Hayden & Sax, right?”
James
studied his eyes. “But what about you? You aren’t going back?”
Caleb let go of him. “No. I’m never going back. I’ve left that life behind me. The only way I can bear going on without Sarah is to leave that life all together—to leave Caleb Sax back in California.”
James frowned, then his eyes teared anew. “You’re going to Cale, aren’t you. You’re going to live out your life with the Cheyenne.”
“It’s the only way for me now, James. Sarah even made me promise that’s what I would do.”
“But . . . they’re making war everywhere! They’re hunted like wolves! The worst is yet to come, Father. You’ll be killed.”
Caleb smiled sadly, shaking his head. “I thought after all that’s happened you would understand that side of me, James.”
James breathed deeply, nodding slowly. He smiled a little himself then. “You want to go down fighting with the Cheyenne.”
“Is there any other way for me to die? Would you have me die a crippled old man, shriveled under the blankets of my deathbed?”
James stood a little straighter. “No. My father would never die that way.”
Caleb nodded. “Now you understand. In a way even I denied my blood for a lot of years, James, because I knew your mother couldn’t live the life I would have lived if I hadn’t got mixed up in her world. Now I am going back to the life I was meant to live, for what little time I have left. And my presence will help comfort Cale. I was born Blue Hawk, James. And I will die Blue Hawk. And I will die knowing that my sons and daughters and grandchildren are all well and happy and together. That is what Sarah would have wanted. Will you take Little Eagle to California?”
James held the man’s eyes boldly. “Yes. You go and get him, and I’ll see that he gets out to Lynda. But there is something else I wish you would do first.” He swallowed, his emotions rising again. “For me.”
“Whatever you need, James.”
“I want . . .” He breathed deeply again to keep his composure. “I want to go up in the mountains with you . . . just you and me. I want you to teach me about the Cheyenne—their beliefs, enough that I’ll have a little something to teach my own children. Help me understand. I want to understand why Cale chose to go with them and why you are going with them now. I want to feel that . . . that spiritual power that you have. Somehow I never felt it inside myself, not like Tom and Cale. Even Lynda had some of it. I don’t care if I have to suffer some kind of physical pain to find it.” His eyes were pleading. “I want to know, Father. I want to smoke a peace pipe with you. And I don’t just want to know about the Cheyenne. I want to know you.”
Caleb felt the wall tumble for the first time. He nodded, breaking into a warm smile. “All right. We’ll leave in the morning. Will Willena understand?”
James smiled lovingly. “Willena understands everything. She’s the only right choice I ever made in my life.”
“Until now.”
James nodded. “Until now.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Father. I always loved you.”
“I know, James. And I’ve always loved you.” Caleb stepped closer, grasping his shoulders. “You’re going to be all right, and when you come down from the mountains with me, you will have an Indian name. I’ll pick one for you.”
James swallowed, his jaws flexing as he struggled with his emotions. “I would like that, very much.”
Caleb smiled warmly, turning James and leading him toward his horse. “Let’s go below and have some supper. I want to see my grandchildren again.”
James picked up the reins of his horse, and father and son walked down the slope together. A hawk circled overhead, coming down to light upon the rock where James and Caleb Sax had found each other again.
* * *
Caleb Sax’s journey in life had taken him from the deep woods of an uncivilized Minnesota to Fort Dearborn, which one day became Chicago, Illinois. It led him to New Orleans, and the famous battle there against the British; to St. Louis, where he found and claimed the love of his life; to Texas and its war for independence; to California in the years of the gold rush; and finally back to his roots—to the Cheyenne. Blue Hawk again rode with his people and made war.
Along his trail in life the graves of loved ones were left behind. But also left behind were the sons and daughters and the descendents of Caleb Sax, who would proudly carry on the name of the little adopted half-breed boy who once reached out and took the hand of Sarah Sax, to be led into a world foreign to him, but one he had lived in—for her.
Sarah Sax would never have had it any other way. Her life had also been a long journey, closely following the pathway of the man she loved beyond her own life. The marker at her grave in California was fitting:
HERE LIES SARAH SAX, A REMARKABLE WOMAN.
One other remnant of the man called Blue Hawk was also left behind—a blue quill necklace, lost at Sand Creek.
But that is another story.
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