Crimson Palace (7 page)

Sofie’s flirting might have been expected to cause jealousy among the married women, but it was so obviously unintentional and her open, friendly attention to the women so pleasant, that she was generally accepted by all.

Besides the Santinis, their group consisted of young men traveling to the gold fields of California, several families planning on settling in Oregon, and a fiery preacher who had heard the voice of God directing him to "save the doomed sinners trapped in the devil’s web of greed and lust." Having heard this edict from above, he had headed immediately for the gold and silver mines of Nevada and California, figuring that nowhere else on earth could there be found more greed and lust.

***

"I swear, at the rate we’re traveling, it’ll be Christmas before we reach Fort Laramie," Shinonn grumbled to Etta. They had been on the trail for nearly a month without seeing so much as a trace of civilization.

"Who’d have thought it would take so long to travel six hundred miles! Why, I could have walked there and back by now."

Etta made a futile attempt at brushing an unruly tendril of her light brown hair from her eyes, a useless gesture considering the relentless dirt filled wind that had been plaguing the travelers for more days than they could remember.

"Those poor, miserable beasts," Etta sighed, looking balefully at the team of oxen as they strained to pull their heavy load. "As hard as this slow pace is for us, they’re giving us all they have."

With the never ending boredom of uneventful tracking along the trail, each day became a twin of the last.

From horizon to horizon, all that could be seen was the flat, grassy plains of the middle of the continent.

The wagon master and his men knew the terrain well and nearly always found a potable stream by which they could camp at night. Then, before the break of dawn the bugle sounded and the next day began.

Another day of hurried meals, plodding oxen, caring for cattle and horses.

But through it all, Shinonn tried to carry a light heart. Each plodding step the oxen took led her further from the life she sought to escape and nearer to the adventurous life she hungered for.

"See those mountains way off in the distance?" Sofie Santini asked one evening as she and Alex sat visiting with Shinonn and Etta. "Alex tells me that those are the great Rocky Mountains. He says Fort Laramie sits right at the foot of the Rockies. He heard we should be there in three, maybe four day’s time."

An expression of pure joy lit Etta’s pretty face.

"Fort Laramie! Can it be true? Fresh provisions! Oh, I can hardly wait to see fresh fruit again. And vegetables! I’d give just about anything I have for one bite of just about any kind of fresh vegetable. I can’t tell you how sick I am of wild mustard greens. And beans! Just think, we’ll be eating beans for months to come."

"I’ll just be glad to set my eyes on those soldiers they’ve got stationed at the fort," Alex said. "I must be honest with you ladies, I’ve been a city man all my life and all this open space makes me nervous. I can’t help but feel like I’ve got a hundred Indian eyes staring at me every minute. It’s downright disconcerting, I’ll tell you."

"Oh, Alex, it’s just like you to be worried about something all the time," Sofie gently teased. "What would any old Indian want with the likes of us, anyway?"

"Well, just the same, I’m more than glad that Fort Laramie has been changed from a fur trading post into a real fort. Travelers like us need all the protection from the hostiles we can get."

"Don’t you worry about a thing, Mr. Santini. As long as we have men like my Horace, and brave boys like Tim here, nothing bad is ever going to happen to this train." Etta smiled with pride in Shinonn’s direction. "Why, have you seen Tim at rifle practice? He shoots straighter than most of our scouts. You have a real talent with that rifle, Tim."

"Thank you, ma’am. But shooting at a target ain’t the same as aiming for an Indian riding a fast horse.

I’m hoping we’ll be lucky and I’ll never have to find out how good I am at killing Indians."

Three days later, amidst the ever pervasive cloud of prairie dust, Shinonn’s wagon train drew up to the walls of Fort Laramie. Again the wagons were drawn into their circles, but this time everyone knew there would be a few days of rest. The animals, as well as the adventurous travelers, were much in need of the respite the fort offered.

A festive air spread throughout the camp as tubs were brought out for bathing and clothes were washed and spread on every available bush to dry. Later in the evening, several fiddles appeared for an evening of singing and dancing.

"Better get on over here and let Sofie give you a hair cut, Tim," Alex called across to Shinonn as he brushed away loose hair from his collar. "With those long curly locks of yours, every lonely solder in the Fort will be thinking you’re a pretty girl."

With a sheepish grin, Shinonn lowered herself to the newly abandoned stool.

"Cut away, Miz Santini. I’m sure not wanting those love starved soldiers giving me the eye," she laughed self-consciously.

Inside she seethed with anger at herself. How could she have been so stupid as to forget to keep her hair cut short? She had been so careful to maintain masculine actions and attitudes, but since she hadn’t looked in a mirror for weeks, she had completely forgotten how feminine her curly hair must look as it grew longer.

"I do declare," Sofie commented as she clipped away at the offending locks, "I know about a dozen women who would kill to have curly hair like yours. And those eyelashes! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone with such thick lashes. Alex, would you believe Tim actually has two rows of lashes where everyone else has but one? It simply isn’t fair that nature wasted such beauty on a man."

Shinonn resisted the urge to squirm with embarrassment at Sofie’s praise.

"Ah, Miz Santini, I can’t help those things. That’s just the way everyone on my ma’s side of the family was."

"Just count your blessings, Tim. Count your blessings. One of these days you’ll find some pretty little thing who won’t be able to resist those gorgeous eyes of yours." Sofie laughed at Tim’s obvious discomfort.

Etta returned from the fort with a sample of every edible fruit and vegetable she could find. Although they faced weeks, perhaps months, of dreary camp food, for the next few days her little family would eat like royalty.

The heady aroma of simmering stews drifted from camp site to camp site as the sun slowly sank behind the mountains. Soon the lilting sound of fiddles and mouth harps filled the air. At Sofie’s direction, Alex rolled up the canvas on one side of their wagon, displaying to everyone’s amazement an ornately carved piano.

"It was the only thing I inherited from my sainted mother, God rest her soul," she explained to Horace Carter as he stood gaping at the bizarre sight. "I can’t think of a better time to break it out, can you?

Tonight we’re going to have a party that will make Fort Laramie history. Come on, Alex, get on up there and get these people dancing!"

Before the night was over only the preacher declined to dance in the flickering light of the camp fires.

Shinonn watched with delight as Horace grabbed Etta’s hand and led her to the center of the circle, dancing with a lightness of step she never would have imagined the large man capable of. Before she realized Sofie’s intent, she found herself spinning around the circle herself as they danced and laughed until they fell to the ground exhausted.

The wagon train stayed a week at Fort Laramie, resting the oxen before facing the struggle of crossing the awesome Rockies. While the women spent the days working about the camp and visiting with one another, most of the men preferred to discuss the upcoming trail with the men inside the fort who had traveled it extensively.

They were told that the weeks they had spent traveling across the vast prairie had barely begun to prepare them for what lay ahead. They heard of Indian attacks, impassable mountains, dying oxen and cattle, not to mention illnesses which sometimes took entire families. The women found their men to be unusually subdued as they prepared to face the awesome mountainous trail ahead.

Most of the men carried their concerns inside themselves rather than worry their wives and children, but enough was said that soon the disquiet spread to all. Their fears were quickly put into protective action as each traveler found himself more acutely aware of his surroundings. Rifles were kept at the ready; those on night watch had no fear of falling asleep at their posts as they strained their eyes and ears to note any possible danger. If attack came, it would be the Indians who would be the sorrier, they vowed to one another.

Shinonn joined the ranks of the other men, sharing not only the duties of driving the wagon and caring for Horace’s oxen and horses, but now she spent her share of time walking the perimeter of the camp on night watch. She also put in serious hours cleaning and practicing with the rifle Horace entrusted to her.

Tucked into her waistband was her fully loaded six shooter. Extra ammunition for both weapons filled her pockets when she was posted to watch.

***

It was nearly midnight when she was shaken from her sleep a couple nights out of For Laramie. In an instant she was completely awake, alert to every sound.

"It’s time for your shift." The words were softly spoken so as not to wake the others sleeping nearby. "I haven’t heard a thing, but the horses seem a little spooked, so be extry careful." One of the cowboys admonished her. "I tell you true, I’ll be glad to get a little shut eye before that damned bugle blows again."

The night swallowed Shinonn as she left the interior of the wagon circle and began her lonely patrol. She placed each foot carefully, making as little noise as possible. She walked a few paces, then stood still, listening with her whole being. Hearing nothing, she repeated the process, slowly circling the wagons.

Time stood still as she continued her patrol, walking and listening, walking and listening.

An hour or more must have passed as she slowly circled the wagons. She too noticed the unusual skittishness of the horses, making her more cautious than ever. And then she heart it. She was sure she heard a small rustling of the high grass in the meadow off to her right. She froze where she stood, her heart pounding fiercely.

"Speak your name or I’ll shoot," she whispered hoarsely.

No answer, then another slight rustling of grass.

Not about to take further chances, she shot her rifle in the general direction of the noises. Instantly the camp was alive, shouts coming from the wagons. She heard the sound of bullets being forced into the breeches of rifles. With all the noise from the wagons it was impossible to hear any other sounds from the intruder. And then, in a brief moment of silence, the thundering of hooves could be heard racing away into the night.

From that night forward the watches were doubled. All adults, men and women alike, kept loaded guns at the ready. Nerves were taut with anxiety at the thought of an Indian attack.

The next encounter with Indians came only a couple of days later. The train had made camp for the night just before nightfall. A woman who was milking her cow was the first to spot the approaching braves.

Stifling a scream, she rushed to the inner circle of wagons to spread the word. Soon Ed Peterson was notified and, with a couple of his men, strode out to meet the intruders.

Each man carried a rifle at the ready and had a couple of handguns in holsters tied to his legs. The well armed men, striding toward the savages as if none knew the meaning of the word fear, gave the travelers a sense of protection that was more illusion than reality.

Shinonn counted eleven braves on horseback. Although they were not painted for war, and wore only simple leather breeches, they seemed quite imposing as they sat on their spirited mounts. Ten of the horses pulled into a rough line while one man slowly walked his mount directly toward Ed.

She could not hear what was said between the wagon master and the Indians, but Shinonn deduced that Ed had invited them to enter their camp when all of the natives dismounted, hobbled their horses and followed him to the campsite.

As they drew near, Shinonn could hear the men speak and was more than a little surprised that the leader spoke better than passable English. She could only suppose that his education had been the product of a dedicated missionary. Still, just because he spoke her own language, Shinonn wasn’t about to trust his intentions.

Ed and the Indians sat in a semicircle while the camp’s cook brought them all bowls of beans and bacon.

Next he passed around a platter piled high with soda biscuits dripping with butter made from that morning’s milking. Conversation stopped while the men gorged themselves with the food. It seemed fairly apparent that the Indians had not eaten for quite some time.

Finally, the meal finished, the lead Indian stated what he and the others had come for. He told of the hardship of his tribe, that many of the children cried for food. He said the buffalo had deserted them and they could only hunt for deer and smaller game.

"We need rifles and ammunition for our hunters," the Indian concluded. "Without them our women and children will die."

Shinonn was shocked at their request. Surely Ed Peterson would never give the Indians weapons which would almost certainly be turned against them!

"We have only enough rifles and ammunition for our own needs," the wagon master stated firmly. "But we would be happy to share some of our food with your people."

The discussion went on for hours, the Indians insisting upon the rifles and Ed, with just as much determination, offering only food. Finally, late in the night, the Indians departed, taking with them sacks of beans and flour.

Shinonn couldn’t shake the fear that the Indians, angry at Ed Peterson’s refusal to give them guns, would come back and attack their train.

"Are we doubling our guard again tonight, Mr. Peterson?" she asked the next evening as the wagons pulled into their circles.

"Yes, sonny, but only as the usual precaution. I don’t expect any trouble from that scruffy band from last night. Though they were hoping for more, they got more than they expected, I reckon. I don’t look for them to be bothering us again."