Chase the Wind (39 page)

“It’s a little late for it to do Jenny any good,” Chase remarked.

“Yes, but it might save Jamie.” The nun stood up. “Let’s go to town.”

“You’re taking me?”

“Yes. Jamie needs to see you.”

While Chase went to ready the wagon, Sister Mary Frances showed the letter to Sister Abigail, who cried in relief, promising to share the news with the other sisters, who had been living in tight-lipped apprehension since before Christmas. Sister Mary
Frances soon joined Chase on the wagon and they drove to St. Jo.
Chase was anxious to see Jamie; it would be the first time in two weeks. He sat proud and tall on the bench, enduring the second
glances of the civilized folk who were not used to seeing an Indian
in the middle of town.

“The two of you together will attract a lot of attention, that’s for
sure,” Sister Mary Frances commented as they tied the horses to
the rail outside the sheriffs office.

“Jamie would say it’s because of our good looks.” Chase was clearly excited, and she did not want him to be disappointed by
what he saw when he went inside.

“Jamie’s not saying much these days, but I hope he will soon
enough.”

Chase stopped short, then nodded in understanding when he
saw the look in the sister’s eyes.

When the two entered the office, Jamie was in his usual position,
curled up on his bunk, but upon seeing Chase he jumped to his feet and ran to the bars, sticking his hand through to touch Chase as if he were a mirage. Chase was momentarily taken aback by Jamie’s pale face and unkempt hair, but he took Jamie’s arm and
squeezed his hand in greeting.

“Chase, you’re walking!” Jamie exclaimed.

“Have been all my life,” Chase replied with a cheeky grin. Jamie
flashed his own grin at his friend’s dry humor and felt an immense
sense of relief wash over him as he saw the confident look on Sister
Mary Frances’s face.

“Wait just a minute!” the sheriff protested. “I didn’t say you could
bring that half-breed in here.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t, either,” Sister Mary Frances pointed
out as she turned her lovely smile on the sheriff. “I have received a letter that may have bearing on this young man’s case; may I show it to you?” The sheriff held out his hand to take the letter and read it loud enough that Jamie could hear. Chase held on to
Jamie’s arm as he read to keep him from exploding in a fit of temper
that would keep him locked in the cell.

“So, what you’re telling me is that this letter verifies all the claims
you and this boy have been making against the priest?” the sheriff
asked as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, it proves that Father Clarence was out to hurt Jenny. Wouldn’t you react the same way if it had been your sister?”

“Shoot, ma’am, I woulda horsewhipped him if it had been me.”
His boots hit the floor with a thud as he opened the desk drawer and pulled out the keys. “Boy, I’m gonna let you go. Do I need to
tell you to stay away from that priest?”

“No, sir, I’m leaving here as soon as you open this door.”

“Going after your sister, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They got a two-week start on you, you know.”

“Yes, sir, but I’ve still got to find her.”

The sheriff swung the cell door open. “Don’t let me catch you
round these parts again. You too,” he added to Chase. “I don’t know
what it is about you, but you seem like you’d be trouble.”

Jamie blinked as he walked out into the bright sunshine, stand
ing on the porch of the office as if to orient himself to the outside
world again. He shoved his shaggy hair back and looked around for his hat, as if he expected it to magically appear in his hands.
Sister Mary Frances pointed him in the direction of the buckboard,
and he helped her up before climbing aboard himself.

“Any word?” he asked as he settled onto the wagon.

“No,” Sister Mary Frances answered. “I’m so sorry. I feel as if this
has all been my fault.”

Jamie squeezed the nun’s arm as she picked up the reins. “It’s
not your fault. I should have got her out of there when she asked
me to. I was just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” she asked, concerned.

“This,” Jamie said, motioning with his hand all around as the
wagon began to move and the people began to stare, at the scarred
boy who had been locked up, and at the half-breed sitting in the wagon bed behind him. “I can’t hide from it anymore. Jenny’s out
there somewhere, and I’ve got to find her.”

“We’ve got to find her,” Chase corrected him.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Yes. I haven’t got anything else to do right now, and besides,
you need me.”

Jamie flashed his grin. “I need you?”

“Yes, you do,” Sister Mary Frances answered for Chase.

“All right then, we’ll leave as soon as we get back.”

“No, you’ll leave as soon as you take a bath,” Sister Mary Frances

declared. “You are absolutely rank.”
“You ought to try being downwind of him,” Chase said from the

back of the wagon.
“It’s not like I’ve been staying in a luxury hotel.”
“You can get cleaned up, and we can see what kind of provisions

we can put together for you.” The nun began to make a mental

list. “I wish we could come up with some horses for you.”
“I have horses,” Jamie declared. “I just have to go get them.”

Early the next morning the two set out on the road to Council
Bluffs. They had let Sister Mary Frances fuss over them the night
before, and she had prepared them for their departure as best she could, giving them blankets, a bit of money and a sack of food.
Jamie had risen early and gone to the barn, where he removed his
gun, his father’s knife and the carved angel box from the hiding
place and wrapped the items carefully in his jacket before rolling the lot up in his blanket. The blanket was now slung over his back,
both ends tied with rope to keep the contents from spilling out.

“What’s the big secret?” Chase asked after they had said their
goodbyes to Sister Mary Frances, who had made them promise to
write as soon as they found Jenny, then had burst into tears after
hugging them both.

“Ill show you after we get to Council Bluffs,” Jamie promised.
They were soon picked up by a wagon, where they rode in back, their long legs dangling over the road as Jamie told Chase about Gray Horse and where they might possibly find him.

Instead of going into town, they left the wagon and circled west
on foot; Jamie was not ready to deal with the townsfolk and their
questions. Memories came rushing back as the landscape became
familiar, and he set a course to the north, between the town and
what had been his family’s land. They made camp close to the glade
where Ian had first met Gray Horse.

After they ate, Jamie carefully unrolled his blanket and the treas
ures it held. Chase looked on with amazement as Jamie examined the pistol that had been a gift to him from his father the last Christmas they had spent together. He carefully cleaned it and loaded it before strapping the holster on. He lined some rocks up on a fallen log, then took aim and shot. He missed the first, but hit the second
and the third. He returned the gun to its place, turned away, then
whirled back and drew at the same time, hitting the next three
rocks in quick succession.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Chase asked when the last
whine of the bullets had died away.

“I taught myself, mostly—just practiced a lot, that’s all.” Jamie
shrugged indifferently at the display he had put on.

“Have you ever shot at anything besides targets?”

“You mean have I ever shot anyone?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“No, but I would have if this hadn’t happened.” Jamie motioned down the side of his scarred face. “And if I ever meet up with the
man who did this, I won’t even think about it. I’ll just shoot.” Jamie
reloaded the gun and replaced it at his side. “What about you, you
ever shoot at anyone?”

“Yes,” Chase stirred the fire as he drifted back to his life before the mission. “We had to protect ourselves from raids from other villages, from the white settlers, who couldn’t tell one Indian from
another, from the horse soldiers who didn’t care. The threat of
attack was something we lived with every day.”

“Did you ever kill anyone?” Jamie moved further back as the
flames from the fire flared up. Night was settling over them, closing
around the glade like a blanket.

Chase’s eyes gleamed silver in the firelight as memories came
rushing back, as a face flashed before him, a knife held above his heart, a struggle in the dirt, a fight for life, his or that of this man
who was trying to kill him. “I did what I had to do to survive.”

Jamie nodded, hoping that he, too, would have the determina
tion to survive when he needed it. He picked up the knife that was
still in its sheath and held it out to Chase. “This was my father’s. I
want you to have it.”

Chase took the knife and pulled it from the sheath, watching as
the light from the fire danced on its shiny surface. He ran his thumb
down the blade and pricked it on the end, sticking the injured
surface in his mouth to suck off the blood. “It’s a fine weapon. I’m
honored that you would give it to me.”

A few moments passed as they contemplated what they had told
each other, both wondering if they would need the weapons they had just strapped on. Jamie’s eyes searched the heavens above,
Chase stared into the fire. Finally Chase broke the silence as a
crescent moon rose above the treetops. “Tell me about your father.
I’ve never heard you talk about him.”

Jamie closed his eyes and leaned back against a tree. “My fa
ther
...”
He didn’t know where to begin. “I guess I look like him.
I’m a bit taller, and I have my mother’s chin, but the rest, it’s all him. His name was Ian, and he had this
...
I guess you would call it magic, with horses. They just responded to him like nothing
you’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“You have?’

“Yes. I’ve seen it with you, with those big plow horses at the
mission, they worshiped you.”

Jamie grinned at the thought. “My mother always said I had the same touch. I haven’t thought about it since we left our stock. We
had the best horses west of the Mississippi on our ranch. My father
had a reputation for having only the best, and we were starting to
do a really great business when they were killed.” He paused for a moment, to get past that day and back to happier times. “Dad was funny, too. He was always telling some simple story but turning it
into a great adventure. Even if it was just the cat getting stuck in
the woodpile, he made it wonderful. We were always laughing and
carrying on over something. And he loved my mother. She was so
beautiful. She was smaller than Jenny, and more silver. Where Jenny is all golden, like sunshine, my mother was more like the moon.” Jamie picked up the wooden box and ran his fingers over
the carved angel. “He always said she was his angel.”

“Was that box hers?”

“Yes. As long as I can remember, it sat on the table next to their
bed.” Jamie handed the box to Chase, who held it carefully as he
examined the carving.

“Jenny said that your father saw your mother when he was dying,
that she was waiting for him.”

“She told you that?” Jamie closed his eyes and pictured his fa
ther’s death from what Jenny had told him.

“I think the only reason she told me was to stop me from doing
something crazy.”

“like what?’

“Walk through a blizzard with a broken leg and dig up my mother’s body so I could send it to the spirit world.”

“Yeah, that would have been crazy.” Jamie flashed his grin, then
became serious. “Chase, do you believe in heaven?”