Beyond The Horizon (50 page)

It was bitter cold, so damn cold that Blade’s teeth set up a constant chatter. They had reached the reservation in the midst of a violent snowstorm. Food was scarce, and the one thin blanket he’d been given was too threadbare to provide adequate warmth. If the governor’s provisions didn’t arrive soon, there would be no Sioux left to receive them. Red Cloud was in a fine rage and several times in the past weeks Blade genuinely feared for his life.

Blade had no inkling what had happened to the provisions that had been promised. He had trusted the governor to deliver them, had staked his life and reputation on the provisions arriving at the reservation. Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but sit and wait and hope Red Cloud didn’t decide to kill him in retaliation.

Blade’s primary concern was for Shannon and how she must have reacted when he failed to arrive in time for his child’s birth. If she hadn’t given birth by now, she was very close. He knew she was being adequately looked after, but the length of his absence surely must be hard for her to bear. He had promised to be with her during delivery of their child and hated it because he wasn’t.

Blade thought about escape often but deliberately refrained from formulating a plan. If he escaped, Red Cloud would have one more reason to hate and distrust the whites. But if he remained a hostage Red Cloud would know that he was a man of his word and that he trusted the officials of Wyoming to keep their promise.

Blade huddled close to the fire, its meager warmth welcome in the cold tipi. Wood was scarce and buffalo chips even harder to come by; it was no wonder the Sioux fought against life on the reservation. Suddenly the tent nap flew opened and Red Cloud stepped inside, followed by a white man Blade didn’t recognize. Red Cloud spoke in rapid Sioux, which the man seemed to follow easily.

“The white chief in Cheyenne has expressed concern for you, Swift Blade. He sends his agent to demand your release and make new promises.”

“Blade Stryker, I’m Miles Holt, the Indian agent,” the man said, holding out his hand to Blade. “When I heard you were being held hostage I immediately wired the governor.”

Blade grasped the man’s hand. “Have you word of my wife?”

“No, sorry. But I’ve come to tell Chief Red Cloud that more meat and provisions are being sent to replace those stolen by renegades.”

“So that’s what happened to them,” Blade said slowly.

“More empty promises,” scoffed Red Cloud.

“The governor and secretary of state are trustworthy and honorable men. You’ll have your provisions,” Holt promised. “Meanwhile, they ask that you allow Blade Stryker to return to his family.”

“Swift Blade is not free to leave,” Red Cloud said. His features were cold and threatening. “His white wife will never see him again if another excuse is given to explain why our provisions have not arrived. Tell that to your white chief.”

“I’m sorry, Stryker,” Holt said, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “The weather is working against us, but the provisions
will
arrive. This time a patrol from Fort Laramie will make certain that delivery is made.”

“In the meantime I sit and wait,” Blade complained bitterly, “while my wife has our child without me there to offer comfort and support.”

Once Holt was gone, Blade stewed for a long time in indecision. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer, that he had to leave with or without Red Cloud’s permission. The provisions would arrive soon and he no longer felt the need or obligation to stand hostage for their delivery. Sitting, waiting, doing nothing was a complete waste of time. He worried about Shannon despite Bright’s promise to see to her welfare. According to Blade’s calculations his child was due in a matter of days, or had already arrived, and he wanted to be with Shannon. He must have been out of his mind to agree to this crazy mission. He began immediately to plan his escape.

Shannon spent a lonely Christmas, even though she was not alone. She and the baby passed a pleasant day with Elizabeth and her family, but it wasn’t Blade. Mr. Bright had assured her that Blade was in good health and that he’d be home soon, but words meant nothing compared to the ache in her heart caused by Blade’s absence. He didn’t even know he had a son.

In the first week of January, 1870, an unseasonable thaw occurred, and Blade rejoiced, for it provided the opportunity for escape he had been praying for. He knew he must plan carefully and do it before snow and blizzards once again swept across the prairie, making travel difficult. And if at all possible his escape had to include Warrior. They had been through too much together to part now.

Red Cloud’s usual habit was to place a guard inside Blade’s tipi each night, and tonight was no different. Yet Blade knew he would never find another night better suited for escape. There was no moon, the sky was overcast, and a black curtain settled over the land.

Later that night Eagle Feather entered Blade’s tipi and hunkered down beside the fire. He had guarded Swift Blade before and knew from experience that the man was wily and bore watching. But since Blade had been the model prisoner, he expected nothing this night. That was his first mistake. His second was dozing off in the middle of the night. Before he could gather his wits, he was quickly overpowered and trussed up neatly.

Blade left the tent by crawling beneath the buffalo hide and out the back. So far so good, he thought as he flattened himself against the outside wall of the tent to get his bearings. The next step was to find Warrior. He located his horse amidst the Indian ponies staked nearby and led him quietly through the sleeping village. He didn’t mount until he was far enough away to ride without being heard. If he was lucky, his absence wouldn’t be noticed till morning.

At first light Red Cloud and his warriors were hard on Blade’s heels.

Meanwhile in Cheyenne, Shannon learned that the provisions promised Red Cloud were ready to be sent. The moment she heard that a patrol from Fort Laramie had arrived to provide safe escort, she called on William Bright and begged him to allow her to accompany the convoy.

“What about your child, my dear?” Bright asked, appalled that she should even suggest such a bold move. “Surely you wouldn’t want to leave him behind. No one knows how long the weather will hold and the wagons could become bogged down if snow begins to fall again. No, Shannon, Blade would have my hide if I agreed to so foolhardy a notion.”

“It’s been three months since Blade left. He doesn’t even know he has a son,” Shannon cried in obvious distress.

“I’m sorry, Shannon, it is out of the question. “But I am glad you came today to see me. I have something to tell you. Something exciting that I hope will please you as much as it pleases me.”

Shannon frowned. “What is it? I certainly could use some cheerful news. Is it about Blade?”

“I wish I could tell you it was about Blade, but perhaps my news will make up for it. You have been appointed one of the first women in the territory to hold public office. You have just been appointed Justice of the Peace.”

“I—I don’t understand,” Shannon stuttered, stunned. “Surely there are more deserving women than I.”

“Perhaps, but you’re the woman who has been selected. In a matter of weeks you will be hearing civil cases, as soon as an office can be located and furnished. Does that please you?”

“I—yes, I am pleased, but that still doesn’t stop me from wanting to go to Blade.” Actually, Shannon was immensely pleased and proud of the honor bestowed on her, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about it yet.

“He’ll be home soon, Shannon, I promise.”

Bright’s promise wasn’t good enough to satisfy Shannon, so she decided to take matters in her own hands in her usual reckless manner. Leaving Grady in the very capable hands of the wet nurse she had hired earlier, Shannon rode out to Peaceful Valley to see Jumping Buffalo and Sweet Grass. They had fared well so far in their snug tipi, living off wild game and the supplies provided by Blade. Both were happy to see Shannon but disappointed that she hadn’t brought the baby, whom they had yet to see.

“What brings you to Peaceful Valley?” Sweet Grass asked as they hunkered down before the fire. “Do you bring us word of Swift Blade?”

“Blade is still being held by Red Cloud,” Shannon confided, “but more provisions are being sent to the reservation to replace those stolen by renegades. A patrol from Fort Laramie will accompany them. I asked to go along but was denied.”

Jumping Buffalo and Sweet Grass knew all about Blade’s mission, for Blade himself had told them before he left.

Jumping Buffalo searched Shannon’s face. His keen perception told him exactly why Shannon had come to Pleasant Valley, and he didn’t like it.

“What do you seek from me, Little Firebird?”

“Take me to Red Cloud. I must see for myself that Blade is all right. Perhaps I can convince him to release Blade.”

“Red Cloud isn’t easily persuaded,” Jumping Buffalo said, hoping to discourage Shannon. “It is a bad time to travel. This lull in the weather is deceptive. It is bound to change.”

“I’ve considered all that, and I still intend to go. Will you take me?”

Jumping Buffalo hesitated for so long that Shannon threatened stubbornly, “If you don’t take me, I’ll go by myself.”

“What of your child, Little Firebird?” This from Sweet Grass who followed the conversation as best she could. “How can you leave him, when he is so young?”

“I don’t want to leave him, but I must,” Shannon said fervently. “I’ve hired a wet nurse, a responsible woman with good references who will look after him. She recently lost her husband and has a child a few months older than Grady. She needs the work and can bring her own baby with her. My son will be well cared for in my absence.”

Sweet Grass leveled a speaking glance at her husband. “I would do the same were I Little Firebird.”

Jumping Buffalo grunted in obvious acknowledgement of Sweet Grass’s words, and after a long thoughtful pause seemed to come to a decision.

“Meet me at the north edge of town. Bring supplies to last two weeks.”

“What about Sweet Grass?” Shannon wondered aloud. “Will she remain at Peaceful Valley alone?”

“She will come with us.”

It was settled. At least she wouldn’t be sitting home wondering about Blade, Shannon reasoned. She’d be doing something positive. Right or wrong she had to find out what happened to Blade. Being selected Justice of the Peace had certainly thrilled her, but nothing was as important as her husband’s life.

Chapter Twenty-Six

B
lade’s skill might have impressed whites, but it was
extremely difficult to trick Indians, especially one as canny as Red Cloud. Blade knew they were close on his heels, and the winter-stripped hills and plains provided little cover in which to hide. He could only press forward and hope Warrior had the stamina to outrun the Indian ponies. When it grew too dark to ride safely, he found a gully on a hillside large enough to conceal both himself and his mount. Rolling into a ball to conserve warmth, Blade went to sleep hungry, having neither food to sustain him nor weapons to hunt his own dinner.

Shannon, Jumping Buffalo, and Sweet Grass passed the slower moving supply train headed toward the reservation two days out of Cheyenne. Sargeant O’Brien was in charge of the patrol. He was shocked to the core to see Shannon riding in the company of Indians and said so when he rode out to intercept them.

“Miss Branigan—I mean Mrs. Stryker—what are you doing out here? Who are these two Indians?”

“Jumping Buffalo and his wife are giving me escort to Red Cloud’s village,” Shannon said. Her chin rose defiantly, daring him to object or interfere. “I’m worried about Blade.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but Red Cloud’s village is no place for a woman,” O’Brien warned. “According to our instructions, your husband will be released as soon as the provisions are delivered to Red Cloud. We’re along to see that nothing happens this time. I suggest you turn around and go back home.”

“I can’t do that, Sargeant. For weeks I’ve sat home wondering and waiting and I can no longer bear the agony of not knowing what happened to my husband.”

“Then ride along with us,” O’Brien said. “We havetents and provisions enough to make travel comfortable for you and your—er, friends.”

“I will consult with Jumping Buffalo and do what he thinks best,” Shannon decided. “He is Blade’s friend and I trust his judgment.”

After giving the matter considerable thought, Jumping Buffalo recommended that they continue on alone. Joining the supply train would only slow them down to a snail’s pace and the unsettled weather could change at any minute. At this time of year, it could start snowing again or blow up a blizzard in a matter of hours. Sargeant O’Brien didn’t like their decision, but he had no authority to stop them, so he allowed them to pass, wishing them well.

“Tell Red Cloud his provisions are on the way,” he called after them, “and good luck.”

Shannon offered a prayer of thanks when the weather held for yet another day. They were within a day’s ride of the reservation now and her excitement over seeing Blade again was enormous. Only one more night on the trail, sleeping in a tent, she thought happily, before she’d be in Blade’s arms. She couldn’t wait to tell him he had a son, and that the townspeople had come to accept him after he had convinced Red Cloud to return to the reservation. It was good to know they no longer had anything to fear from the citizens of Cheyenne.