Sweet Prairie Passion (Savage Destiny) (18 page)

Zeke soon rejoined them, assuring Abbie’s father that the boy would have a lot more fun playing with the Indian children than standing around in the supply store. Already Jeremy was running with one of the Arapaho boys, both of them rolling hoops and laughing. Abbie, her father, and Zeke went on to the supply store, where Zeke introduced them and the Haneses to the owner, an old man named Gus Clinton, who shook Zeke’s hand like a long-lost friend. Abbie felt relieved to see another white man besides Olin Wales who apparently considered Zeke a friend and an equal.

“Now this here is a man who can be trusted as much as you can trust the sun to come up every day,” Clinton told them, still shaking hands with Zeke, who laughed. “I’ll take Zeke’s word any day over most of the whites that come through here,” the man went on. “That’s all a man is worth out here, you know. His word. It’s somethin’ for you folks to remember. Zeke here—he’s a right good friend to have. But look out if he catches you lying or cheating or aiming at his back!
Then he’s as vicious as a wolf with rabies!” They all chuckled.

“We’ve seen a little of that side of him,” Trent replied.

“I expect so,” Clinton replied. He winked at Zeke. “How have things been going for you, Zeke? Any problems on the way out?’

“Just the usual,” Zeke replied, grabbing up a few thin cigars. “Had a little run-in with the Sioux. Had to put a Sioux warrior in his place … a little misunderstanding with one of the emigrants.”

“Well, if the white folks would learn how to deal with Indians, there wouldn’t be any problems,” Clinton replied. “I suppose the Sioux warrior is dead?”

Zeke reached into a small pouch on his leather belt and pulled out some coins, laying them on the counter. “You suppose right. I don’t generally end a fight any other way if I can help it.”

“You got the Cheyenne mean streak in you, Zeke. You watch yourself around civilized parts or you’ll be hanging from a tree. It would be a shame to hang a good man like you.”

Zeke chuckled and shoved the money across the counter. “Thanks for the cigars. I’ll be heading out for the Arapaho camp now. Figured I’d spend a day with Indians instead of whites—gives me a chance to relax and be among people I can trust.” He nodded to Jason Trent. “Present company is not included in those I do not trust,” he added. “You folks get all you need now and rest up. We’ll head out day after tomorrow.” His eyes rested on Abbie for a moment, and he thought to himself how pleasant it would be to take her with him and spend some time with her in a tepee. “Good day,
Miss Abbie,” he said cordially.

“Good-bye, Zeke,” she replied.

He turned and left, giving no visible sign of caring about her any more than he cared about anyone else on the train, and she watched him go, wondering jealously if he had some woman with whom he’d spend the night at the Arapaho camp.

They spent nearly an hour in the supply store, trying to make up their minds about supplies and then waiting in line to pay for their items. LeeAnn joined them, coldly asking her father if she could buy a necklace she’d found. Her father agreed reluctantly, because he knew the necklace would be worn for Quentin Robards’ benefit.

When they finally left the store, their arms full of necessary items, they headed for their camp outside the fort; but as they walked toward the gate, Abbie’s heart froze at the sight of five men who were riding in. Even LeeAnn gasped, and they stopped and swallowed as the five men rode up close to them. Abbie looked up into the sneering face of Rube Givens!

“Get out of our way, Givens!” Jason Trent told the man heatedly. “You have a lot of nerve showing your face again! You’d best not let Cheyenne Zeke see it!”

Givens snickered. “I got a right to ride wherever I want. I don’t cater to Cheyenne Zeke. But I happen to know he ain’t around right now,” the man replied haughtily. He eyed Abbie and LeeAnn, remembering their slim thighs and small bottoms revealed in the hollow back at Sapling Grove. “My apologies, ladies. I was drunk back there in Missouri. I never meant to harm anyone.”

LeeAnn blushed, and Abbie’s eyes glinted. “You’re
a lying coward!” she shot back. Trent grasped her arm warningly.

“Hush up, Abbie. Don’t even talk to this scum. Come on, girls. Let’s put our things away and go find Jeremy.”

“Sorry you choose not to accept my humble apologies,” Givens told them, spitting out some tobacco through his brown teeth. He eyed Abbie up and down and tipped his worn, leather hat. “See you ladies at the big celebration tonight. There will be lots of dancin’ and singin’ and feastin’ and such. Afternoon, ladies.”

Abbie felt undressed, and her heart pounding with hatred and fear, she quickly turned and walked toward camp, while Rube Givens and his men rode on into the fort. She wished Cheyenne Zeke had not left the fort for the Arapaho camp. But then surely a man as cunning and knowledgeable as Zeke knew Rube Givens was about. Perhaps he’d return before the evening’s celebrations to guard her against Rube Givens. And just in case he did return, she’d look her prettiest that night—for Cheyenne Zeke. Her heart raced with anticipation.

Givens rode on inside the fort and dismounted, tying his horse and eying a well-dressed man in a gray suit standing near the entrance to the supply store. He nodded to the man and the man nodded back. Givens headed inside, but the man stopped him with his words.

“You’re the fellow who had the run-in with Cheyenne Zeke back at Sapling Grove, aren’t you?” the man asked. Givens stopped and looked at him suspiciously.

“I am. And you’re a part of the wagon train, ain’t you?”

“Name’s Connely. Morris Connely,” the portly, graying man replied. “I… uh …I believe you and I have similar feelings about Cheyenne Zeke, sir. And so does another man on this train, a man by the name of Quentin Robards. Now that I see you’re still with us, I’d like to talk to you about something. I don’t like this half-breed scout we have, but I can’t do anything about it directly. Perhaps you can help for a little … fee?”

Givens smiled. “For a big enough fee I’ll do anything, mister.”

“I thought so,” Connely replied. “I think I’ve finally figured out who Cheyenne Zeke really is. I spent some time in Tennessee myself, and I’ve been putting a few things together. If my hunch is right, I can get the man kicked off the train. That would … uh … leave those girls a little more … unprotected, if you know what I mean.”

Givens grinned. “I’m listenin’.”

“One thing. I’ll pay you well, Givens. But only if you leave my name and Quentin Robards’ name out of it, understand? I don’t want Cheyenne Zeke knowing where the information came from. Understood?”

“You afraid of that big blade of his?” Givens snickered.

“Aren’t you?” Connely replied.

“Only when I’m facin’ him. But once he’s off the train, he’s out there alone. I know where he is now. Been lookin’ for Zeke for a long time. That’s why I stayed behind, waitin’ my chance to put a bullet in his back. Trouble is, Cheyenne Zeke ain’t the type that’s easy to catch. But I will … someday.”

“Come with me, Givens. Perhaps I can help you toward
that goal,” Connely replied. He led Givens around the corner of the building to where Quentin Robards stood waiting.

The celebration that night would have been the best time Abbie had ever had, if not for the lurking presence of Rube Givens and his men—and the absence of Cheyenne Zeke. She tried her best to enjoy herself. She wore her hair in curls and put blue ribbons in it that matched her blue cotton dress with the ruffled hem and the bodice that helped make her breasts look a little more womanly. But Zeke was not there to see her, so she danced a few times with Bobby Jones, just to be nice.

Her father and the others, aware of Givens’ presence, were prepared, all watching both Givens and the women of the train. Jason Trent kept his rifle beside him as he sat and played the fiddle. David Craig again joined in with his banjo, but he watched LeeAnn and Quentin Robards with both hate and hurt in his eyes. One man from the fort played the fiddle, and another the harmonica, so together they all made music that had everyone dancing and clapping.

Abbie decided that nothing bad could happen in such a large group, so in spite of Zeke’s absence, she tried to enjoy herself, for ahead lay more dangers and possible heartache. And she did want to show her gratitude to old Mr. Clinton and others at the fort who had gone out of their way to show the emigrants a good time and to prepare a side of beef, from which everyone ate heartily, over a pit of coals.

The entire group of travelers attended, including the preacher, who stood off to the side talking to Yolanda
Brown about how he intended to make Oregon a more “Christian” place for the new settlers by “saving” the savage Indians and the lawless men who were already there. He acted as though he had no guilt feelings whatsoever about what he’d done to Yellow Grass, and apparently Yolanda Brown didn’t see anything wrong with his past behavior. That aggravated Abbie. Abbie supposed Yolanda Brown didn’t hold it against the man simply because Yellow Grass had been an Indian, and therefore, she didn’t count. After all, a man, even a preacher, can’t be blamed for trying to get a little manly pleasures; that was the way she’d heard Willis Brown put it once. It sickened Abbie that such people could exist and that they smugly joined decent people and piously talked about being Christian.

The men to whom Abbie had seen Zeke speak earlier were present, and there were even a few Indians there, who apparently hung around the Fort all the time, eager to trade horses and buffalo robes to the whites in exchange for trinkets and mirrors and such.

Old Mr. Clinton called out square dances, and skirts swirled and people laughed, meanwhile complaining that they were dancing too hard on full stomachs. Everyone was eager to let loose; the strain over little Mary’s snakebite, the run-in with the Sioux, and all the other problems they had experienced had made them ready to celebrate reaching the fort.

Abbie’s disgust with Quentin Robards grew when the man actually stepped up to her and asked her to dance with him. She knew he was doing it simply to smooth-talk her into liking him better, but she suspected there was even more to it. He smiled slyly, as
though he knew something she did not know, and she grudgingly consented to dance, intending to let him know through her coldness and through her eyes that she did not like him or trust him. She thought to herself that he smelled more like a woman than a man. It made her long even more for Zeke, who smelled like leather and the out-of-doors; he was always fresh and good-smelling, masculine and naturally sweet, even the day he’d had the fight with the Sioux warrior. His was a smell that brought out the natural desires in a woman, but Quentin Robards’ smell made her feel a little sick. It was perfumy and unnatural. She tried to hold her breath as much as she could until the dance was over, concentrating on Zeke and the memory of his sweet lips and breath the couple of times he had kissed her. She wished he could see her tonight, and that she could dance with him, but she knew that he would never allow himself to be seen dancing with a white girl in front of others.

To Abbie’s relief, the dance finally ended, and Robards bowed low to her. When she glared back at him, he grinned. Bobby Jones brought her some coffee to drink, and the two of them watched the others for a while. Abbie noticed Morris Connely talking to Rube Givens, and that worried her. It was already obvious the man hated Zeke for some reason, and now he was talking to one of Zeke’s most hated enemies. To make matters worse, Quentin Robards joined them, and they all talked like old friends. Abbie’s heart raced with apprehension. She tried to piece together why they would be talking, especially Robards, who should by all rights hate Rube Givens for his attack on LeeAnn. How could he possibly act friendly toward
the worthless Rube Givens?

The music started again, and the three men nodded as if in agreement and split up. As she danced again with Bobby, Abbie’s mind whirled with confusion over what she had just seen. When the dance ended, Bobby left her to speak with Kelsoe, and Abbie walked over to a table of food and picked up a piece of berry pie. She stood there alone for a moment, watching the skirts of the dancing women whirl—and watching the crowd for Zeke. But he was not there. She started to bite into the pie when she felt a hand on her waist.

“How about a dance, pretty girl?” came the hated voice. Her blood ran cold, and she whirled to see Givens behind her, grinning.

“You get away from me!” she hissed. Everyone was so busy having a good time that no one had noticed.

“Some day you’re gonna be out there somewhere unprotected, little girl. And I’m gonna finish what I started back there at Sapling Grove—and you’re gonna be moanin’ and likin’ it,” he told her with a grin. “I’m gonna be first between them pretty legs, missy.”

Far more angry than afraid, she impulsively shoved the berry pie into the man’s face, rubbing it in slightly; then running over to her father, she picked up the man’s rifle, aiming it at Givens.

“You come near me again, Rube Givens, and I’ll blow you in half!” she spouted, not caring who heard. The music stopped, and people quieted. Some started to snicker at the sight of Rube Givens standing there scraping pie off his face, which was now purple with berry stains. Trent stood up and took the gun from his daughter, just as Cheyenne Zeke suddenly loomed
into the circle out of the darkness. Abbie’s chest tightened; she wondered if Givens had deliberately created the incident, knowing Zeke was out there somewhere and wanting to start something with him. But she was too angry to worry about that. And she was too glad to see Zeke to fear a confrontation. After all, Zeke could easily take care of a man like Rube Givens.

“You people got a problem here?” Zeke asked, calm but hard. His eyes were on Givens, and if looks could kill, Abbie knew Givens would have been sliced up the middle then and there. Her heart fluttered with pleasure because he’d stepped in on her behalf.

“He said a foul thing to me!” she spoke up in a shaky voice, glaring at Givens herself. Trent had been keeping his rifle on Givens, and now he pushed Abbie to the side. Givens wiped his face with the sleeve of his filthy buckskin shirt, and looked back at Zeke with hate-filled eyes.