Heart of the Sandhills (18 page)

Earlier in the evening Hawk had been surprised to see a woman among them. But when she pushed her bonnet back from her face and he realized she was Indian, his interest grew. She was beautiful. After a while, Hawk surmised she belonged to one of the scouts. He wondered if the rest of the soldiers used her in the way he had seen women used at Fort Laramie.

Hawk saw many things as the sun set and he watched his enemies. But the thing that interested him most had nothing to do with how many soldiers guarded the camp, or what their business might be. The thing that kept Hawk high in a tree observing the camp was the horse picketed next to the woman’s tent. He saw the scout carry water to the animal in his own hat and hand-feed him the most tender shoots of grasses. He saw him brush and comb and clean, and while the scout did all of these things, Hawk saw the horse nudge his master in the way only a sweet-natured horse would do.

Hawk watched until it was too dark to see any more. He closed up his seeing stick and thrust it into the sash at his waist. He jumped from the tree and went to his tepee. They were few in number, this small band of Bad Faces. Their leader was aging, and he did not want to fight any more whites. Hawk thought that wise, given their lack of young warriors and the number of soldiers camped across the river. All of those things were against him, Hawk knew. And yet, as he lay in his tepee listening to distant wolves howl, Hawk determined that before many more nights, he would have that white horse for his own.

Use hospitality one to another without grudging.

—1 Peter 4:9

No, the Old Chief insisted, he was not going up to Fort Laramie. Bad Indians were up that way and he was a good Indian. He was taking his little band down on the Republican to hunt buffalo. Let the young fools up on the Powder River fight with the white man. He had had his day to fight and now only wanted to live in peace. Yes, he told Elliot, he would come back up the Platte when the government came again to meet, but he had already touched the pen and he only wanted to live in peace. He had come across to the soldier’s camp to invite them all to a feast and to emphasize his feelings of good will.

That evening the feast was held, and Elliot Leighton smoked the first of many peace pipes in his long career as an intercessor between the United States Government and native America. Daniel and Robert and Big Amos kept guard over the horses. Aaron came back brimming full of stories. He spent the evening alternately sketching what he had seen for Miss Whitrock and thanking his Uncle Elliot for letting him volunteer.

“Why didn’t you go with us, Ma?” Aaron asked Gen later that night.

Gen was wiping the last of the cooking pots. She did not turn around, only shrugged and mumbled something about Edward needing her help.

“It was amazing,” Aaron said with enthusiasm. He held out a sheaf of papers. “Look,” he said. “I’m not the best artist, but isn’t that dancer something?”

Gen took the papers and glanced down, trying to keep her hands from trembling. She leafed through Aaron’s drawings without comment, then handed them back.

“What’s wrong, Ma?” Aaron asked.

Gen shook her head. “Nothing.” She set the last pot in its place in the mobile kitchen and forced a smile.

Aaron looked down as she rubbed one of her forearms. He had forgotten how badly scarred she was. He reached out and lay his hand over the scars. “I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t think—I didn’t mean to bring those awful things that happened back.”

“It’s all right. I’m as surprised as you are it’s bothering me after all this time.” She blinked tears away. “I didn’t think it would. But when the drums started up . . . and the singing . . .” She shivered, then forced a weak smile. “I’m glad to see it doesn’t haunt you. Do you remember that day you climbed up in the tree in the rain?”

Aaron nodded. “That was after Otter tried to hurt you, and Daniel arrived just in time.”

“You pushed me away. Said not to treat you like a baby,” Gen said. “And then you ran outside and climbed the tree to get away from everything. I wondered if you would ever again be able to smile.” She sighed. “I’m glad to see you can.”

“God did that,” Aaron said. “I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me anymore. It just doesn’t. And here, I guess I’m so intent on learning—”

“You don’t have to apologize for not being like me,” Gen said quickly. “I wish I could be more like you.” She rubbed her arms again. “It’s kind of taken me by surprise that I’m so—” She stopped abruptly, unable to think of the right word to describe how she felt. Presently she looked into the darkness toward where Daniel was standing watch over the herd. “I wish he’d come in.”

“I’ll go get him,” Aaron said.

“Don’t.” Gen put her hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “He doesn’t need a foolish woman keeping him from doing his job. He’ll be sorry he let me come.”

A few yards away, Zephyr Picotte was telling another one of his yarns to a group of new recruits. From where he sat listening, Captain John Willets watched the interchange between Genevieve Two Stars and Aaron Dane. He frowned when he saw Gen clutch Aaron’s sleeve and shake her head. When Aaron turned to go, Willets followed him.

“Is something wrong with Mrs. Two Stars?”

Aaron paused. “No. Yes.” He sighed. “She wouldn’t want me to say anything.” He cleared his throat. “Do you think I could relieve Daniel so he could come in early?”

“Of course,” Willets said quickly. “Is she ill?”

“No. Nothing like that. She just—the parlay over at the Indian camp made her nervous. Memories and all.”

Willets frowned and looked down at the ground. He pulled on his hat brim and looked out toward where the herd had been taken to graze. “I posted extra guards. I hope she knows I’m not a fool. Spotted Antelope may be peaceful, but no self-respecting Sioux could resist the temptation to run off a few well-fed government ponies. Do you think it would help if I told her that?”

Aaron considered. “With all due respect, sir, it’s not the horses she’s worried about.”

“I know that,” Willets interrupted. “I just thought I might be able to allay her fears.”

“Well, sir, about the only thing that’s going to do that is Daniel. But she doesn’t want to admit it, and she’d be really angry with me if she knew I even told you. She doesn’t want people thinking she’s a fool woman.”

“Go relieve Two Stars,” Willets said. “Tell him I need him fresh in the morning for a special scouting assignment.”

“Yes, sir,” Aaron saluted and turned to go.

“And, Dane—”

“Yes, sir?”

“Just for the record, I think Mrs. Two Stars is about the least foolish woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Don’t tell her I said that. But don’t be afraid to let me know if there are any concerns affecting her that I could help.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he watched Aaron mount up and ride toward the herd, Willets poured himself a cup of terrible coffee and headed for his tent. He thought back to his temporary acquaintance with Miss Parker back in Minnesota, trying to imagine her on such an expedition as this. The image made him smile and shake his head. No, Willets realized, Miss Parker was not the sort of woman one would expect to head West. She would never have climbed Scott’s Bluffs to see fossils and would have had no curiosity about the whereabouts of the people who had carved their names along Mitchell Pass. Minnesota was about all the frontier Miss Parker and women like her would willingly endure.

The image of Genevieve Two Stars’s shining dark hair falling down her back that night when she and Daniel came back from their late-night swim flashed in his mind.

A man would be crazy not to admit Daniel Two Stars was one lucky man. And what could be wrong with acknowledging a woman’s admirable qualities, Willets argued when his conscience hinted that he had been watching Mrs. Two Stars and admiring her a little too much lately.

“Just hold me,” Genevieve whispered.

Daniel wrapped his arms around her as they lay together in their tent. “What is it, little wife?” She was trembling. He felt her forehead with a sense of dread. “Are you sick?”

“No,” she muttered. “I’m not sick. It’s—oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “I don’t know. The music tonight. The drums and the dancing . . .” she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

Not knowing what to do, Daniel did the right thing. He let her cry.

“I should have stayed with Nancy,” she finally said. She pushed herself away and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Then you wouldn’t have to put up with me.” She began to cry again. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so much trouble.”

“You are no trouble, Blue Eyes,” Daniel said gently. “You are my love.” He said a silent prayer for understanding, and waited again.

“I didn’t think I’d be afraid,” she finally murmured. “But when I saw the tepees and the fire—”

“There have been other campfires and other villages since we left Fort Randall,” Daniel said.

“I know,” she sat up and he followed suit. “I know. But this . . . this is different.” She looked at him. “You know it’s different. We’ve only met peaceful Sioux up until now. There hasn’t been any threat.”

“I don’t think Spotted Antelope’s band is a threat either, Blue Eyes.”

“Then why did Captain Willets post extra guards around the herd?” she said abruptly. “Why are the men staying in tight clusters around the campfires? Why aren’t they joking as usual?”

Daniel smiled and shook his head. “Why aren’t you a little less watchful, Blue Eyes? You would worry less.” He sighed. “Aaron noticed one of the young braves perched in a tree early this morning looking our camp over with a spyglass. It’s probably nothing. But Captain Willets wants us to be more alert. And that is wise.” He grinned. “In the old days, Blue Eyes, I don’t think
I
would have been able to resist a few good army horses.” He reached out to touch her hair. “But they are a peaceful band and we are watching the horses. I doubt there will be any trouble.” He began to hum the Dakota courting song, tracing her hairline with his finger as he did so. “Don’t be sorry you came, little wife.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” Gen said.

“You are not a burden,” Daniel whispered, enfolding her in his arms again. “You are my life.” He kissed her.

“A woman? You brought a woman on your expedition?” Doctor Beaumont’s sterling gray eyes flickered angrily. “What were you thinking, man! You know this season has been one long skirmish after another with the Sioux or the Cheyenne or both. Why, I’ve threatened to send Libby downriver a dozen times, and if it weren’t for her being a stubborn old battle-ax, she’d have been safe and sound in Omaha weeks ago.”

Willets smiled. “Now, Henry. I’m glad to hear you and Mrs. Beaumont are still so fond of one another.”

“Harrumph,” muttered Beaumont, tugging on his moustache. He frowned. “She’s a tough old bird, John. I never knew just how tough until I tried to get her to leave this spring. Says she won’t be sent away and that’s that. Says if she’s to be scalped then so be it but she isn’t leaving me to the wiles of the desperate women in this God-forsaken place. As if there’s any danger of that!” Henry Beaumont twirled the tip of his graying moustache in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his sense of pride in and love for his wife.

“Well, as I said, I’m glad to see things haven’t changed between you two. That’s exactly why I know you’ll want to help me out by having Mrs. Two Stars as your guest for a few weeks while we go upriver. It’s only a few weeks and her husband will be back to take her home—wherever that ends up being.”

“What do you mean, wherever that ends up being?” Beaumont asked quickly.

“If you’ll offer me a cup of coffee, I’ll tell you the whole story,” Willets said.

Beaumont waved Willets into a chair. He strode to the door, cracked it open and hollered, “Libby! Libby Beaumont!”

Presently a stately, gray-haired woman swept into the room. Ignoring their visitor, Mrs. Beaumont leaned down to give her husband a peck on the cheek and cooed, “What is it, dear?”

“We’ve company. And we need some coffee.” With a secretive smile, Beaumont waved his hand toward John, who rose to bow just as Mrs. Beaumont turned around.

“John Willets!” Libby clapped her hands together. “
Captain
John Willets!” She grasped him by the arms and inspected his uniform. “My, my. When did that happen?” Without waiting for a reply, Libby headed for the door. She waggled her finger at her husband. “The next time you want coffee, Doctor Beaumont, see to it you say
please
.” She winked at John. “He’s still an insufferable old poop, John. Hasn’t changed a bit.” She closed the door behind her. They could hear her laughing out in the hall.

After serving coffee to her husband and John Willets, Libby Beaumont settled into a chair opposite them. She stayed to hear Willets tell about Genevieve Two Stars and the Minnesota Sioux Uprising, about Daniel Two Stars and prison, about Simon Dane and his children, and lastly, about Abner Marsh and his dogs.