Shadow of Legends (24 page)

“What?” Mrs. O'Neill gasped.

Mrs. Speaker chuckled. “I was joking, dear.”

“Lil' Sis, where's your pard?” Todd called out as she approached.

“He's not my partner,” she insisted.

“I do believe she ‘doth protesteth too much,'” Abigail said.

“Quite so . . . quite so . . . ,” Thelma mused.

“Where is Carty?” Todd demanded.

“At the cave. He wanted to have a fire going when we got there.”

“That's thoughtful. He is a pleasant boy, Dacee June,” Thelma chided.

“He's a boy, alright. He acts about twelve.”

“Well, I think it's quite mature to stay and get us a fire going,” Abigail added.

“He just wanted to look at some old horses.”

“What old horses?” Todd asked.

“Next to the cave in a cluster of aspen. There's a string of ponies grazing in a little rope corral.”

“Is someone running cattle up there?” Todd said.

“We didn't see any cows. Anyway, the cave's wide, deep, and dry.”

“I believe we should warm up and dry out. Then eat, turn around, and go back to Deadwood,” Rebekah suggested.

“Nonsense,” Todd added. “I'm not going to let a sprinkle change our plans. I promised you a trip to Rapid City, and that's what you'll get. Besides, it will probably stop raining in a few minutes.”

“Daddy said it rained every day for over two months in the summer of '75,” Dacee June reported.

“Thank you for that word of encouragement,” Rebekah added.

“You're welcome.” Dacee June plastered on a smile. “I think I'll ride on up to the cave and get out of this drizzle.”

Todd turned around to the others. “Do you really think she's just going back to get out of the rain?”

“Honestly,” Dacee June pouted, “I wish my own brother would give me credit for having better taste than Carty Toluca.”

Thelma Speaker tugged at her black gloves. “I believe she's right. Young people today have high standards. Why, it could be that even Mr. Toluca has higher standards than we give him credit for.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dacee June gasped.

“Nothing, dear. You'd better ride along. That straw hat of yours is starting to sag something pitiful,” Thelma urged.

Located on an eastern slope of limestone-crested Red Mountain, Redbud Cave offered a panoramic view of the Dakota plains that stretched east of the Black Hills. The cave stood no more than ten feet high, twenty feet at the mouth, and barely fifteen feet deep. Old-timers called it the Smile in the Mountain.

Travelers fighting the arctic storms of a Dakota winter called it a gift from God.

During a mild storm, summer tourists called it a picnic.

A blazing fire roared at the cave entrance. Inside, Amber played with bites of one of Thelma Speaker's thick bread and pot roast sandwiches. Dacee June propped a coffee pot on rocks and huddled close, waiting for the tea water to boil.

“This is absolutely perfect!” Abigail declared. She, Rebekah, and Mrs. O'Neill lounged on a blanket and snacked on a jar of pickled asparagus spears.

Thelma Speaker took it on herself to see that everyone's tin plate was constantly refilled.

Todd and Carty stood at the cave entrance, north of the campfire, and stared out at the drizzling storm.

“What do you think?” Carty asked.

“About the storm? Or those horses?”

“Either one.”

“The storm has me puzzled,” Todd reported. “If it's going to rain hard, Rebekah's right. We should warm up and then race back to Deadwood. There's no reason to get sick in a summer deluge. On the other hand, if it blows clear in a half hour, we'll be looking mighty weak rolling back into town. Nothing worse than an indecisive storm.”

“And the ponies?”

“They are saddle ponies, shoed well, left here either last night or this morning.”

“The corral isn't big enough for more than one day's grazin',” Carty said. “You think it's someone on the prowl?”

Todd stepped closer. “That's my guess. It's too far up the mountains to be used for anything legal. But don't alarm the ladies. We'll pack up and roll out of here as soon as they're done picnicking.”

“Did you notice that three of 'em are bigger than the others?”

“What do you think that means?” Todd pressed.

“If I was carryin' meat, I'd use them bigger ones as packhorses. You reckon it could be a huntin' party?”

“No telling, Carty. But, if you were to rob a bank in town, you could ride hard about this far, then trade off horses.”

“And stash your loot on the big horses?”

“Maybe. But if I were an outlaw, I would have struck the bank when the gold bars were out in the window.”

Carty pulled off his red bandanna and wrung water out of it. “Is the treasure coach going out on schedule tomorrow?”

“That's what Lander says.”

“Is he goin' out with only six messengers?”

“He was lookin' to hire more.”

“You think these are relay horses for someone holdin' up the treasure coach tomorrow?”

“That thought crossed my mind. I think we'll head back to Deadwood, so I can tell Lander about this.”

“What about these ponies?”

Todd rocked back on his heels and could feel his wet trousers grind into his leg. “If that rope corral got busted, the horses would scatter. Then it would only be neighborly to round them up and drive them into the corrals at Deadwood. The owner could claim them there.”

“And if someone was plannin' a heist, it would slow 'em down a bit.” Carty glanced over at Todd. “But that rope corral ain't busted.”

Todd pulled out his folding knife, opened the three-inch blade, and strolled out into the rain.

“But it's a beautiful afternoon. The clouds have broken. The dust is settled. We're all warmed and fed,” Rebekah protested. “You convinced me. Let's drive on over to Rapid City.”

He slapped the lines, and the carriage rumbled down the hill. “I told you we need to run these ponies back to Deadwood.”

“Todd Fortune, what is going on here? For half the afternoon, you wouldn't let anything, not even a thunderstorm, keep you from this trip. Every time I mentioned going back you would laugh it off. And now, the weather breaks and a rope corral falls apart and you feel responsible for someone else's horses?”

He put his arm around her stiff shoulders. “That's the way we are up in the hills. We have to look after each other's belongings.”

“So I packed my suitcase for a cave picnic? That's it?”

Todd looked around at the rest in the wagon. “We had a fun time, didn't we?” he called out.

“Rapid City is more rapid than I thought,” Thelma Speaker quipped.

“I feel like I'm going to thrup,” Amber admitted.

“You're going to what?” Todd called to the backseat.

“Thrup,” she grimaced.

“She's going to throw up!” Dacee June explained.

“Perhaps you could slow down,” Rebekah cautioned.

Todd kept the horses at a trot. “I need to keep those horses following Carty.”

“But we don't need to stampede back into Deadwood. Why don't you just leave them at the old tollhouse corral? They have plenty of corral space. Then we could turn around and head on down to Rapid City.”

“Someone's staying at the cabin now. Besides, we've got to get back to Deadwood.” His words rolled out like a general commanding his troops.

Rebekah didn't reply.
You've told me that. What I want to know is what you aren't telling me.

A bright Dakota sun broke through the clouds as they followed the narrow roadway straight west toward Granite Peak. The loose band of saddle horses followed Carty's lead. The carriage pushed the stragglers. There was no dust, and the recent sprinkling made the roadway seem quieter.

“I must say, the West is certainly peaceful,” Mrs. Gordon called out from the backseat, Amber curled in her lap. “We can't hear the stamp mills and there has hardly been any traffic all day.”

“There should be a stagecoach soon,” Todd said. “The Sunday coach isn't usually very crowded, but they do keep a schedule.”

Abigail retied the violet ribbon of her straw hat under her chin. “I enjoyed our trip, even though it was cut short. Sitting back here with mother has given us some time to talk. And we have an announcement to make.” Abigail's voice turned dramatic. “Mother and Amber are going to stay in Deadwood through the summer, and I'm going to see if we can find a place and settle down.”

“That's wonderful,” Rebekah cheered.

“There just seems to be a lot to do in Deadwood,” Mrs. O'Neill suggested.

“Oh, but I'm sure there are more opportunities for a social life in Omaha,” Rebekah challenged.

“Not that kind of busyness. Cities are full of people doing things. What I meant was, there are a lot of needs in Deadwood. A person would feel very useful,” Mrs. O'Neill explained. “Mrs. Speaker has been such an inspiration to me.”

“I have? Oh, my, I wasn't trying to attract attention,” Thelma sputtered.

“I'm talking about your everyday life. You have a lending library in your living room. You cook meals for most everyone in town. You work at your church. You teach piano lessons. You are constantly doing things for other people,” Mrs. O'Neill said.

“And she mothers everyone who comes within a hundred feet,” Rebekah added.

“Oh, dear, that sounds so nosey.” Thelma picked some loose threads from her long black dress.

“The point is . . . I would like to do more good with my life, and Deadwood just might be the place.”

“I want to be an actress just like my mother,” Amber piped up.

“Oh no you don't,” Abigail cautioned.

“Dacee June said that if we stay in Deadwood this summer I could be in the church play!” Amber pouted.

“The church has a play?” Mrs. O'Neill asked.

“I write and direct a play every summer and every Christmas.” Dacee June's full lips parted in a wide smile.

“You write and direct it?” Abigail asked.

“Lil' Sis also stars in it. She's a quite versatile gal,” Todd grinned.

Rebekah reclined on the back of the carriage seat so she could view those behind her. “Abigail, I'm thrilled that you might be making a more permanent home in Deadwood.”

“I have a confession to make,” Abigail announced. Her voice seemed in time with the jostling of the carriage. “Now that we've turned around and are not going to Rapid City today, I have to tell Rebekah why I pitched a fit and talked Todd into bringing us along.”

“I thought it was his idea,” Rebekah said.

“Oh no, I insisted we come. I wanted to point out how horrid it would be to move to Rapid City. I want to do some things different with my life, and I know I'm going to need your help. It would ruin everything if you moved. Isn't that selfish?”

“Perhaps, but it's honest,” Todd noted.

Rebekah folded her hands in her lap. “I feel like this whole excursion has been arranged just to coerce me. Are you in on this too, Mrs. Speaker?”

“Oh, not me,” Thelma offered. “I had no intention of running down Rapid City. However, I did think about faking a heart attack before we got there. We all really want you to stay, dear. I might add it would certainly break Louise's heart too, if you moved. She has always said that you will be the next president of the women's association at church. But I don't mean to put any excess pressure on you.”

Rebekah began to laugh.

Thelma Speaker swatted a black-gloved hand over her mouth. “Did I say something amusing?”

“In the midst of the most threatening and most trying week of my entire life, I'm finally happy to live in Deadwood,” Rebekah mused. “Everything I was afraid might happen to me . . . did. And now I'm ready to stay.”

Todd pushed the horses out to a full trot. “You are?”

“For a while, anyway,” she replied.

“Maybe that's the reason,” Abigail suggested. “You faced your worst fears and realized you can survive.”

“I'm not afraid of anything,” Amber declared. “Except maybe spiders . . . that's all. Spiders . . . and snakes. I don't like snakes. I'm not afraid of anything except spiders and snakes . . . and falling down a mine shaft into a dark hole and getting stuck and no one is around to hear me scream.”

Carty circled the half-dozen horses back toward the carriage. “The stage is parked up at the old tollhouse. What do you suppose it's doing up there?”

“Maybe a horse lamed up or something,” Todd suggested.

“Should we ride up there and help them out?”

“If they need a horse, one of these big boys might be a driving horse,” Todd said.

As they turned off the road and drove up the hill, Todd noticed there was no smoke in the stack and no horses in the corral.
I guess those others waited out the storm and rode on. Someone could be sick. Why else would they make a stop and leave the horses all harnessed up?

Todd parked the rig beside the stagecoach. No one came out of the door of the square-cut log building of the ramshackled tollhouse. As Carty corralled the string of horses, Todd tied the reins to the hand brake and swung to the ground.

“Dacee June, get up here and get ready to drive,” he ordered.

“Why? What's happening?” she said.

Todd reached under the seat of the carriage and pulled out a shotgun.

“What's wrong?” Rebekah challenged.

“There's got to be a stage driver and passengers somewhere.”

Dacee June's eyes grew wide. “You think there's trouble?”

“It's a strange sight. If there is trouble, you drive straight to Deadwood and get help,” Todd told Dacee June.

“Without you?”