Bright Morning Star (12 page)

Mother sat beside Claire as Jim prodded the team forward. It was already warm, another clear, dry day and Claire were happily talking to Bonnie. The tall girl was striding along beside her, keeping pace easily with the slow animals.

“Okay, pretend for a minute. We are at the end of the journey, both happily married to important men,” Claire said.

“Rich, important men,” Bonnie interrupted.

“Rich, prominent leaders of the town. Of course we are neighbors of the famous Lynne McKinney Gant. We three matrons will be pillars of the community. I will set fashion trends, based of course on the latest fashions from Paris and New York.”

“Of course,” Bonnie said, with her nose in the air, her skirt held out to the side, as she swished for Claire’s amusement.

“Lynne will host the literary community. By then she may well be a published author, famous for her poetry and tales of her journey west,” Claire said and when Bonnie snorted, Claire went on.

“Why not, she certainly has written enough pages. Maybe Phillip will have her writings printed and bound. She won’t have to have a ‘nom de plume’ because Lynne can be a male or female name.”

“I say Mrs. Gant, I hear the First Lady bought copies of your latest book and shared them with all her friends,” Bonnie added.

“Well, at least the Governor’s wife will have done that,” Claire said. She stared at Bonnie, taking in her straight back and impressive figure. It seemed forever since they had bothered with a nice game of pretend. Claire was enjoying this one immensely. “And you, Bonnie, will lead women to fight for their rights.”

Claire’s mother laughed, especially as Bonnie started talking about how women in the new western states would have all the same rights as men. “They are already allowed to buy land, at least along the new railroads. I’m sure someday they will have the right to vote,” Bonnie protested.

When both laughed at her, Bonnie blushed. “Well, it may be a small club, but I think there will be women interested.”

“In being like men?” Claire asked. “Are they all going to wear bloomers in public like Amelia Bloomer did way back in the 50’s?”

“I don’t know anything about Amelia, but if she thought women should have the same freedoms as a man, then yes,” Bonnie answered. “Wait, they will dress just like men, trousers and all.” Both women began laughing so hard that Mary Anne climbed off of Bella’s wagon and ran back to see what was so funny.

<><><>

It was an uneventful day. It had started the same way as all the others. This time they were three wagons farther back in the chain, position eight and nine. Barney Lambton started coughing so hard he looked blue. In a panic, Bella screamed and Tom pulled the oxen to a halt as she scrambled down from the wagon seat to carry the boy clear of the dust. Henry was in front several wagons talking to one of the other married men. When he spotted her, he raced the mare back to them. As soon as he dismounted, he boosted his wife and her sick child onto the saddle.

Mother was able to finally pull their wagon to a halt, mainly because their lead pair were standing with their noses pressed against the tailgate of the Lambton’s wagon. Shadrach bellowed loudly. Claire could hear the two wagons behind them yelling as they also brought their teams down. She stared at the three Lambtons, unaware that her hands were shaking so badly it made the cloth in her lap make a flapping sound. Claire swallowed, tears filled her eyes. It had only taken one glimpse to see it all.

Henry was holding the reins of the prancing mare, the horse still excited by the mad dash and change of riders. Henry’s face was a perfect image of regret. Everyone in the wagon train who saw him, understood how deeply affected the man was, his sorrow splashing out over all the others. Claire watched how tenderly he touched the boy’s cheek and ruffled his soft dark hair. She felt another dagger as he raised himself up enough to whisper something to Bella, whose body curved protectively around her son. Then Bella placed her hand over Henry’s where it supported the child’s back.

<><><>

Bonnie turned as she heard a little squeak. She watched Claire raise her hand to her heart and gasp again. Bonnie left her to her mother as she ran forward to climb up onto the abandoned seat of the Lambton’s wagon. She snapped the whip out over the oxen to get them to hurry up and join the other wagons. But she had seen the stricken look on the girl’s face.

Had Claire been making up lies in her head? Had she assumed Henry didn’t have any natural feelings of love for his wife and child? This was the woman he shared a bed with every night. As she snapped the whip in the air over the lead oxen again, she called out giddy-up and the wagon lurched into motion. Bonnie was relieved to see Henry publicly show his feelings. She just felt sorry for Claire that he had kept them hidden so long. Poor Goose.

<><><>

As merry as Claire had been before, she was now morose, the picture of dejection. It was Bonnie again who came to her rescue. She drew her off to the side with the pretense of taking a walk to look for something they could add to the stew pot.

“Talk to me, Goose, what’s going on?” Bonnie asked.

Claire sighed and then stared at her friend. “I think it’s possible Barney might die. It’s so sad.”

Bonnie stared at her friend and then blinked. “It’s possible that any of us will die at any time. Bella told us she knew Barney wouldn’t live long, nothing has changed about that. I mean, tell me what’s really bothering you.”

Claire looked at her friend, lowered her eyes, pretended to look around. “I don’t see anything edible. This country is so desolate, I hope its greener where we’re going.”

“From all the descriptions we read, it’s even worse. No, I mean you and Henry.”

Claire looked up, startled. “There is no me and Henry.”

“I know that. Apparently, you don’t. Or do you think your sad looks go unnoticed. How hard do you think it is for Bella? Do you think your mooning around after her husband is going to make her feel better?”

For a minute, Claire couldn’t speak. “You’ve no right to talk to me like that. I’ve done nothing, said nothing, ever, to Henry.”

“But you’ve thought it.”

“Bonnie, how do you expect me to control what I think. Don’t you think I want to? You don’t have any idea how guilty I feel, how hard this is?”

“Well, you’d better. If other people notice it, there will be talk. Once your reputation is ruined, there’ll be no more gentleman callers on this wagon train. I know your behavior has been proper, but you have to hide these feelings from others. You know they are wrong or you wouldn’t feel guilty.”

Claire struggled to hold back tears. “I didn’t know I was that transparent. I had no idea anyone else knew what I’m feeling.”

“Only for anyone with eyes in their head. You just need to act, pretend like we did earlier when we were playing your game. Act as though none of this exists, that you are searching for the one man who can make you happy.”

Claire tried to smile, her mouth trembling a little as she said. “Tomorrow we’ll move back to the front, Henry and Bella will be in the lead so Barney will be better…”

Claire froze and stopped arguing when Bonnie raised a hand. In surprise and delight, she watched her friend, hoist her rifle and fire. Together they ran to capture the flopping rabbit.

<><><>

The two girls returned, laughing and giggling, to the surprise of the twins carrying water to the campsite. Mother was starting the fire and putting the bean kettle over the flames.

Bella sat on the bench from their wagon, with Barney stretched out on it, his head in her lap. Mary Anne stood over Barney, cooling him with her Japanese fan that Claire had given her at the hotel. The boy twisted his head at the sound of the laughing women. Claire rushed in, shouting, “Don’t start the beans yet. Bonnie shot some fresh meat.

Working quickly, Bonnie had the rabbit skinned after cutting off the hind feet. She tossed the two rear feet to the boys for good-luck charms. Then she snipped the tail and handed it to Claire, motioning toward Bella. Claire took a minute to wind a bit of ribbon around the sticky, bloody part and shake all the dust off. Trembling, she walked up to Bella and offered her the furry trophy.

Bella looked as hesitant to take it as Claire had been, but finally she reached out to accept it when Barney kept turning his head to see what the other boys were playing with. She extended the soft white trophy toward her son and Barney touched it, his eyes growing wide. Finally he smiled. Both women smiled at each other in turn.

Claire felt something ease in her heart. She took one of the pails that the boys had set down and dampened her handkerchief to hand to Bella. The woman took the peace offering and ran it over the little boy's face, leaving his thick black hair standing up on his forehead. Without thinking, Claire reached out to smooth it back into place. When finished, Bella returned the handkerchief, gripping Claire’s fingers as she did to fold over it in wordless thanks.

<><><>

Claire dried the last tin plate, and stopped to stir the beans, before storing the last dishes away. Mary Anne was sharing another of Bella’s stories with one of the twins. Mother was trying a eucalyptus salve on little Barney’s chest and all the men were busy. Claire didn’t have the heart to refuse to do the work alone. At least Bonnie had put up the lunch before taking off, this morning, gun in hand. After last night’s surprise success in bagging the rabbit and everyone’s enthusiastic gratitude for the change in fare, she couldn’t blame Bonnie for her excitement.

At the last minute, Father had refused to let the girl take the gun with her. “Not if you’re going to be walking alone. You could fall or the gun could accidentally go off. Just wait a while until we’re underway, than Henry or I will ride along with you.”

Bonnie put her hands on her hips and stood eye to eye with Claire’s father. For a moment, Claire wondered what that would be like, to have the courage and conviction to talk to men eye to eye.

Bonnie said, “If I wait, there won’t be any game left, or anything edible that hasn’t been trampled underfoot.”

“Then walk on and pick up anything good you find. Just keep the lead riders in view and make sure they can see and hear you. The Brewer brothers are riding lead today, and they’re armed.”

Bonnie didn’t even bother asking for his compass knife like she had borrowed to ride to the training camp to see her brothers. She just slung a gunny sack over her shoulder and stormed off, calling back. “Lunch is put up, just wash the dishes, girls. I’ll be back.”

As soon as everything was in order, even the half-cooked beans loaded, the wagon was in motion. Claire relaxed as Father walked beside their wagon, talking a little to Mother and Claire about how fortunate they had been to have such fair weather.

When she looked through the gathered canvas of their wagon she could see Mary Anne singing to Barney as Bella looked forward and then down at her son. At least he seemed a little better today. Maybe Mother’s salve would heal him, or at least his breathing trouble.

<><><>

Minutes later, the fathers of the cousins Faye and Dorothy Brewer pulled up, their conversation about the long-legged woman who had out-paced them forgotten. In the middle of the road, seeming to appear silently out of nowhere, an Indian wearing a feathered bonnet sat mounted on a small pinto horse. He raised his feathered staff in one hand, his open palm in the other.

Although they both had rifles on their saddles, neither thought to use them. The men sat frozen, until the Indian spoke again. “Greetings.”

One of the brothers nudged the other and both held their hands in the air to mimic the man’s gesture. The long-haired Indian kicked his horse and rode up to them. Using surprisingly correct English, he announced, “I am Washakie, Chief of the Shoshoni, friend to white men, enemy of Sioux and Blackfeet. I am here to collect my toll.”

Jim was the first to spot them, yelling to Claire and Mother to look. Father and Henry rode up. As always, when there was something interesting to see, Mary Anne scrambled down from the Lambton’s wagon and raced to climb up to join the Wimberleys. Henry moved his horse to a protective position in front of his wife and her son.

Although all the travelers had been drilled on what they should do if Indians attacked, no one had suggested what they should do if a friendly one just rode up to the wagon train to talk.

At least the Brewers knew to bring the Indian to talk to Father. Claire felt the small hairs stand up on her arms, even though she knew this was one of the friendly Indians. They had seen several when they were doing business in Independence. One had even looked on with interest at what she held aloft when Claire was helping to sell Henry’s surplus stock.

As the three men rode back through the wagon train, each family they passed became excited and alarmed. There was a wave of commotion and talking as they wove through. The men riding beside the Indian kept saying, “Make way there, we’ve got a big chief come to pow-wow with our Wagon Master.” The man talking, stumbled over the Indians’ name.

Each time, the chief repeated what he had told the front riders. When they finally reached the Wimberley’s wagon, all were whispering excitedly in anticipation. Annoyed by all the commotion, Henry shushed them. With great dignity, the old chief spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

“I am entitled by treaty with my friends, the white knives, to a toll. A horse or cow will be paid by any party passing through my land. I have been fighting those cowards the Sioux, who passed through the Three Forks after their battle at a place you know as Little Big Horn. These are not good Indians. They kill many whites, many of my people too.”

Father Wimberley extended a hand and the chief clasped it at the elbow with surprising strength. Father tried to copy the position, grabbing the Indians elbow so that their arms were pressed together from wrist to elbow in each other’s grasp. Looking his visitor dead on, he surprised everyone as he spoke. “We will gladly honor your treaty. Thank you for your friendship. Give us a minute to talk.”

He turned around to look for Bonnie, spoke to his daughter instead. “Claire, get some food for our guest while we work this business out.”

Shaking, Claire stepped down from the wagon and walked to the rear to find the food Bonnie had packed for lunch. She held onto the side of the wagon, breathing deeply as soon as she passed out of sight of the Indian. Finally, she stilled the shaking long enough to lift the covered tin plate and hold it against her chest as she walked unsteadily over to the strange man and his odd horse. The little mustang was spotted like some of the oxen in big brown and white splotches. Claire said a silent prayer as she stepped closer and closer. She heard Bella gasp behind her. When she looked at them, she saw Bella had grabbed Henry’s arm to keep him from drawing his rifle.

Claire continued to step forward. If only Bonnie were here. She would probably be enjoying the chance to speak up to the Indian and tell him what to do like she did everyone else these days. Claire could imagine how happy the girl would be if she were going to offer food to a real live Indian.

Channeling her friend’s courage, Claire stepped forward and lifted the plate to Chief Washakie, looking down at the ground as she did so. “Please accept this food. I hope you enjoy it.”

As soon as he took the tin plate, she backed away. The old Indian’s eyes crinkled as he studied the skittish girl. To the whites she would be pretty. Little nose, big eyes the color of sky, and hair like new corn tassels. He smiled down at the frightened girl. She reminded him of his white horse that had pale eyes and pink nostrils and lips. It could not see or hear very well, but it was easy to ride. He looked from her to the others sitting on the wagon seat. The older one looked much like the same face. He smiled and pulled loose a Spanish coin with a string of beads from the front of his buckskin. He held it out to a pretty little girl with eyes like storm clouds.

She hid behind the older woman until Washakie smiled and shook the present at her again. A boy draped over a big ox yelled at her. “Take it silly, he’s trying to give you a present.” Another boy repeated the words, “Take it,” and he saw the boys were alike, with eyes like grown men. Mary Anne stood up and reached across Mother Wimberley’s lap to take the present.

She studied the coin and beads, then looked up into the kind, wrinkled face. “Thank you.” Then she gave him a shy smile and the Indian grunted in pleasure.

The Chief stepped his horse closer to the second wagon. The woman on the seat was good, darker with a fine nose. She looked angry when he peeked over the front board of the wagon to see the sick boy she had hidden there. Good woman, more like Indian than white. The man, with wild fair hair and a mustache to match, moved between the woman and the Chief.

Chief Washakie raised his hand again. “Come in peace, collect treaty toll.”

Claire stared at Henry, the man’s face had turned pale and his jaw shook, whether from fear or anger, she wasn’t sure. He hooked his thumb at the sound of the other wagon men moving forward. Claire squeaked as she saw Indians appear on either side of the trail. She pointed toward them and all the people became quiet.

Chief Washakie stared at the gift being lead toward him. It was the tallest horse he had ever seen. With a strong voice, the leader of the group said. “Here, this is the best horse in our wagon train. You will never find a bigger horse than Bess, or a more willing mount. Take this horse and your men. Leave us in peace,” Father Wimberley said.

Balancing the plate on one knee, Chief Washaki took the reins, shook his lance in the other hand. “It is good when the white men honor the treaty of the long knives. We fight the same enemies. Shoshoni and whites live in peace.” The Chief turned his pony awkwardly around, the reins pulled behind him as the big mare stood braced flat footed. He looked into the intelligent brown eyes of the big horse and clucked to her, relieved when she snorted, but lowered her tall head to trot along behind.

As soon as the Indians were out of sight, Father Wimberley called out to all the people to get quiet and to get moving. In their panicked flight, no one thought about the missing girl.

<><><>

As soon as they calmed down, Father Wimberley slowed the train. Claire climbed down, wondering what Bonnie would do for lunch, when the impact of the missing girl hit her. Stumbling at first, she rushed to her Father’s arms. “Bonnie’s gone.”

He looked about, whispered up to Henry. “Did you see Bonnie on the road?” He released Claire to her Mother’s arms as he turned to mount again. Calling men together, he quickly arranged for a search party. He stopped his horse by the frightened women and children. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Take care of the animals and go ahead and eat, we’ll be back in minutes.”

Claire looked on the verge of hysterics, the children were all whining. Father Wimberley caught his daughter’s shoulder and turned her back to face him. He leaned forward from his saddle to whisper to her. “Get hold of yourself.” His eyes bored into his daughter’s. “Bonnie’s a strong, fierce woman with a wealth of common sense. You step into her place and take care of everyone. Keep these children calm.” He raised up and stared down at her. “Until we’re back with her, you’re in charge.”

Claire felt his expectations like a heavy weight around her shoulder. She stared around her. Barney was raising his voice into a high keen of fear. Drawing herself up as tall as possible, she forced a smile.

“Finally, a break. Let’s see what Bonnie made for us to eat, ladies. Children, let’s get busy watering the stock.” She stood with her hands on her hips as she looked around at the other travelers who were just now dismounting. Determinedly she went from wagon to wagon, explaining that they were going to rest for a minute, and why. To each of the men who had remained with the wagons she reassured them that the others would be back in minutes. She shared her Father’s orders quickly and was soon back at the wagon.

Mother held out the tray with one last biscuit sandwich. “I don’t know what the men will eat when they get back, this is the last one. We gave that savage half of our …”Hearing herself, she paused and swallowed hard.

“We should have time. We’ll make something as soon as we finish eating.”

When the boys ran up, dropping crumbs to their dogs, they were panting. “We’ve got them all watered and we’ve eaten. Can we take Tip and Tyler and look along this part of the trail, as long as we stay in sight of the wagons.

Claire saw the fear, heard their request for permission, but knew they would be gone to search, whether she gave permission or not. The dogs looked as bright and eager as the two boys. “Of course, but search one side and come back to me to report. Then search the other. Do not go off on your own.” She whispered fiercely. “We need you to stay and protect us.”

She hoped it was what Bonnie would have told them. It seemed to work. Tom reached out to give her a hug and so did Jim on the other side. Both were already nearly her height. “Don’t worry, Claire, we’ll protect you. Do you want us to carry the shotgun?”

Claire knew what her father would have told them. Trying not to pull their strength to her when they needed it the most, she shook her head. “No, I’d better keep and carry it while you’re gone. Go on, be quick about it so you can come right back to us.”

<><><>

The search went on for two hours, but no trace of the girl was found. When Tom’s dog Tip gave a yelp, the four came racing back. They had found a scrap of blue shirt with its brass buttons. Claire picked up the big shotgun and hoisted it to her shoulder. Aiming toward the tree line to their right, she fired. In astonishment, she ended up sitting on the ground. Before the boys could pull her up, the search party ran toward the wagons.

Tom held up the clean scrap of blue cloth with a pair of flat brass buttons. Father Wimberley took it, extended a hand to rest on top of the lad’s head for a minute. “Good job, son.”

He turned away from them, pulled the men away to talk. Only Henry remained with the women. Claire offered him the beef jerky and apples that they had ready for the men. He looked offended, but didn’t complain. He took a dry strip and an apple while Claire poured him a cup of cold coffee.

Claire wondered for a moment how he could stand to be here while the men were arguing so fiercely. Henry looked at her as she dusted her skirt, and when she straightened, shrugging his shoulder he whispered. “Are you all right, now?”

The annoyance she felt evaporated. Trying not to smile she nodded her head, held out an arm for Mary Anne to rush beneath. “We’re fine, go see what they’ve decided.”

<><><>

“I don’t see how we can go off and abandon one of our own in this country, especially a woman,” Father Wimberley said.

Some nodded, but it was the Raglon boy who said, “She should have had better sense than to go traipsing off in this country. Don’t see none of the other women acting like that.”

The Brewers looked at each other, and then seemed to come to an agreement. “She ought to be fine, from what we’ve seen. I mean she walked right past our horses this morning. She’s probably taken cover somewhere. Our trail only leads in one direction. Woman like that shouldn’t have any trouble following it and catching up.”

“Is that what you’d want us to do if it was one of your wives or daughters?”

Henry finished his coffee, unaware of those watching him resentfully. All the other men were tired and on edge. Henry asked for and was handed the neatly cut square of uniform. “How many men were in that patrol, do you think? Twenty-five, thirty?”

Father Wimberley stared at the man, his eyes cold with resentment. Others raised their voices, all uncertain what to do next. When the Raglon boy asked the question, “So what are we going to do?”

“We have three choices. Stay here, eat a bite, and then ride out another time to search before dark. Second, conduct a search and send a rider on ahead to Ft. McPherson for help. Third, admit the girl was taken by the Indians today and ride on to the Fort right away.”

Henry Lambton raised the winning argument. “If a troop of trained soldiers weren’t safe from Indian attack, who among us has any chance of getting there alive?”

They all agreed they were better off doing as many miles as they could to reach the fort and safety themselves. They were still nearly two weeks away at best.

When Father rode toward them, Claire could see from the droop of his shoulders the news was bad. Mary Anne started to cry and Claire held her, quietly, weeping openly.

The boys wanted to argue, but Father Wimberley shook his head. “Let’s move ‘em out. We’ve got a lot of miles to make before sundown.”

Claire saw Bonnie’s image in her mind’s eye, the way she had looked on the trail after Calum Douglas left. She was shining in the summer air, laughing and singing with the children. For a moment it had looked as though she would take flight, she was so happy.

Smiling, she shook the little girl. “She’s fine, I know it.” She looked to the lads who looked so lost. “We’re going to rush to the fort. Lieutenant Calum Douglas will be there. If anyone can get her back for us, he can.”