Chieftain (Historical Romance) (23 page)

M
aggie and
Shanaco had been at the mountain ranch for only a couple of weeks when, at supper time one evening, they heard the sound of drumming hoof-beats. Someone on horseback was rapidly approaching. Pistol, dozing before the fire, jumped up and started barking.

Shanaco rose from the table and snapped his fingers to silence Pistol. Maggie stayed where she was but laid her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. Shanaco went for his revolver and crossed to the door.

They heard heavy footsteps on the porch, then a loud knock. Shanaco glanced back at Maggie. Gun cocked and raised, he opened the door.

And there stood a broadly smiling Double Jimmy. “Don’t shoot, Chief. I come in peace.”

Shanaco laughed, lowered the gun and shook the Indian agent’s hand. Maggie was already up from the table and hurrying to greet her old friend. “What on earth brings you here?” she asked when he caught her up in a bear hug.

“I missed you,” he said as he squeezed her waist and then released her.

“You’re just in
time for supper,” she said, smiling, glad to see him. “Down, Pistol,” she scolded the happy wolfhound who was jumping up on the white-haired man he recognized as a friend.

Pleasantries were exchanged. Maggie happily informed Double Jimmy that she and Shanaco were married. Double Jimmy offered heartfelt congratulations. Finally the three of them sat down to supper.

That’s when Double Jimmy said, “I have some things to say.” He paused, looking at them purposefully. “And I want you both to hear me out before you protest or interrupt. Will you do that, please?”

Shanaco and Maggie looked at each other. She nodded. Shanaco said, “We will listen.”

“Good. First, I want you to know that I’m truly sorry for what happened to you, Shanaco. You’ll be pleased to hear that Lieutenant Daniel Wilde was confined to quarters for having you beaten. He faces certain court-martial and discharge.

“As for the colonel’s daughter, Lois has been sent back East to her mother.” Double Jimmy paused and shook his head. “Poor Colonel Harkins, when he returned to the fort, Lois wept and told him she had been brutally raped by you and he believed her. But the late Major Miles Courteen—bless him, he died of influenza just days after your beating—had held a confidential hearing in the colonel’s absence. Lois was proved a liar and so—”

“How?” Maggie asked.

“Major Courteen insisted she be examined by the regimental surgeon and…” Double Jimmy shrugged, cleared his throat and looked down at his plate. When he looked up he said, “C. C. Sweeney testified to the provost marshal that Lois had never been to the general mercantile on the evening of November 18 as she had claimed. All sub-rosa.

“Finally, after
the colonel had read the damning files Major Courteen had ordered delivered to Harkins upon his death, the colonel confronted Lois and she broke down and admitted that she had fabricated the story of the rape.”

“Makes little difference now,” Shanaco said.

“But it does,” said Double Jimmy. He reached inside his buckskin shirt and withdrew a legal document. “Read it, Shanaco. You’ve been given full amnesty. A ‘safe passage’ order signed by Colonel Harkins.”

Shanaco carefully studied the document. Then handed it to Maggie. She read it, looked up, smiled and leaned across the table to kiss her husband.

They both listened as Double Jimmy spent the remainder of the meal telling them how the unfortunate incident had brought chaos and unrest to the reservation.

“Many of the young men have fled, swearing they’ll never return,” Double Jimmy said.

“That’s a shame,” said Shanaco, lifting his coffee cup.

“They must return to the reservation. They’ll starve if they don’t.” Double Jimmy paused, glanced at Maggie and said, “Come back to the fort, Shanaco. Your People need you. Who better than you to show them the white man’s road? And you, Maggie, the children miss you and need you. You’ve said it yourself, if they don’t learn to speak English, what chance do they have in life? Those children love you, Maggie. Little Bright Feather was brokenhearted when he learned you had gone.”

A persuasive
man, Double Jimmy talked and talked, ready with an answer for every objection Shanaco raised. You won’t be a prisoner at the fort; you can come and go as you please. You want to be a rancher? You can be a successful rancher at the reservation. And you can teach young braves to be ranchers. You want a big house? You can build a big house on the banks of the Red River right there at the edge of the reservation.

Double Jimmy wisely appealed to Shanaco’s sense of duty and honor. “Now, son, I’ll admit,” he said, “that your returning would mean dedicating yourself to helping your People adjust and accept their new way of life. It wouldn’t be easy.” He took a long swig of coffee and said, “News of your return would quickly spread and that would draw the angry rebels back to the safety of the reservation.”

Maggie looked at her husband and reached for his hand. Softly she said, “Who better to teach the People to live in peace than the last Comanche war chief?”

Christmas Eve, 1875

Fort Sill, Oklahoma

The Christmas Eve wagon train was a yuletide tradition at posts all across the frontier. Fort Sill was no exception.

Everyone—whites and
Indians alike—were gathered along the road leading into the fort. Excitement ran high as the noon hour approached. Children laughed and darted out into the road, anxiously looking for the first signs of the wagon train.

It was a high spot for the children and they all crowded up so they could be close to the arriving wagons.

“There it is!” someone shouted at straight up noon, and a loud roar went up from the crowd.

The lead wagon was driven by the jolly, red-clad Old Santa Claus himself, and beside him on the seat was the smiling, waving Mrs. Claus. When the wagon came through the fort’s front gates, the children rushed toward it, shouting, “Santa! Santa!”

The coppery-skinned Santa and the pale Mrs. Claus smiled and waved. Pistol, a white-tasseled red Santa’s cap on his great head, guarded the Christmas Eve wagon. Maggie and Shanaco reached into the bag resting behind the seat and began throwing hard candy to the crowd.

The happy children laughed and squealed and scrambled to catch the tossed candy. Maggie looked anxiously around. She saw Old Coyote, happy tears shining in his eyes, wave. Then he pointed just ahead. Maggie turned, looked and spotted the adorable little boy.

“Look, Santa.” She tugged on Shanaco’s red sleeve.

Then beamed with joy when Shanaco nodded, abruptly pulled up on the reins, swung down from the wagon, scooped up Bright Feather with one strong arm and deposited the child on the seat beside Maggie.

His eyes
big, Bright Feather gazed at Mrs. Claus in wonder and said, “Miss Maggie?”

“Yes, darlin’,” she said and hugged him.

“Are you…are you married to Santa Claus?” He turned to stare at Santa.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” said Santa, and winked at the boy.

Bright Feather laughed happily.

ISBN: 978-1-4603-6389-8

CHIEFTAIN

Copyright © 2004 by Nan Ryan.

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