Deborah Camp (29 page)

Lights bobbed in front of the cabin and then voices drifted across the still night. She recognized
the rich timbre of Tucker’s and Gus’ more gravelled tone.

“That you, horse thief?” Gus bellowed out to her.

“I only borrowed them.” She let go of the guide rope and the horses and mules veered toward the corral at a trot. Ranger picked up his pace, too.

Micah ran to the corral and opened the gate and the stock trotted inside to the feed and water troughs. Copper accepted Micah’s steady hands at her waist as she dismounted. Valor cried lustily.

“That baby sounds worn out,” Micah noted.

“No more than her mother.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Would you unsaddle Ranger?”

“Sure. Go ahead inside before you drop.” He touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip and smiled. “You scamp. Running off with the horses …” He shook his head and laughed silently. “Jones has been fit to be tied all day. About dusk he started worrying that something happened to you and he’s been wearing a trench in the floor pacing. Of course, he wasn’t the only one worried.”

“I ran into some trouble.”

“What? Are you hurt or—”

“No, I’m fine. Let me get this child settled and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Approaching the cabin door, Copper nodded at the two men standing on either side of it like sentinels. She expected Tucker to lambast her, but he only stared at her, the muscles in his jawline flexing as if it took everything in him not to shout. Gus smiled benignly and opened the door for her.

“We expected to see you again in the daylight, but I won’t quibble. I’m glad to find you in one piece. Go right on in and comfort that squawking babe.”

Casting another wary glance at Tucker, Copper hustled inside and climbed the ladder to the bedroom
loft. An hour later she had changed the baby’s clothes, fed her, and tucked her into bed. Her limbs felt like weights as she descended the ladder, but the smell of roasted squirrel, stewed greens, boiled cabbage, and fresh coffee revived her. They were all sitting down at the big table.

“Have you all been waiting for me before you sat down to supper?”

“Who could eat with you out there in the middle of God-knows-what kind of mess?” Tucker groused, throwing her a glance aimed like a dagger.

“I could have,” Ann said, spooning greens onto her plate.

“Nobody’s talking to you,” Micah snapped, but Copper waved aside his sharp scolding.

“Let’s eat. I’ll tell you why I’m so late getting back.”

“Why not start at the beginning and tell us why you tiptoed out of here while everybody was sleeping and took all the horses,” Tucker said, his words lashing like whips.

“I took them so that you couldn’t sneak off,” Copper said. “And I’m sure you figured that out by yourself. After what I’ve done for you, it pains me to think you’d ride off without a backward glance!”

“I was leaving for you!” He slammed his fist against the table.

“You were leaving for
you
!” Copper countered, pounding the table in response.

“We’d best shovel in this food while the table’s still standing,” Gus commented. He dumped a spoonful of cabbage onto Copper’s plate. “Fill your mouth with some of that, girl.” He placed a piece of golden brown squirrel on Tucker’s plate. “Gnash your pearly whites on that, soldier blue.”

Honoring their host’s demands, they ate quietly, exchanging only heated glances until their bowls were empty and the plates wiped clean with the
last of the yeast biscuits Ann had baked. The men leaned back in their chairs. Gus and Micah picked their teeth. Ann cleared the table. Tucker stared expectedly at Copper.

“Pierre Sartain is dead,” she said without preamble.

Gus and Micah traded looks. Tucker’s mouth fell open.

“Copper, you didn’t … did he try something? Did he pull a weapon on you … ambush you?” Tucker asked, worry lining his forehead. Copper noted that his eyes were bloodshot and his skin had a gray tint from the onslaught of exhaustion.

“He was killed before I got there. His wife and children were constructing a funeral pyre.” She shifted her gaze to Micah. “Feet Like Wind left his body in front of the tepee for his family to find this morning. Skinned and scalped him. Cut off his privates and his tongue, too.”

“Holy Moses!” Micah reached for his tobacco pouch, pinched some, and poked it into his mouth. “Guess he thought old Pierre was less than truthful.”

Tucker plowed his fingers through his hair. “Another death because of me. Why didn’t you just let me ride away this morning?”

“That wouldn’t have spared Pierre,” Gus said. “That Frenchman has been warned many times about cheating the Indians. He was always trying to trade bad information for good furs and food. Everybody knew his days were numbered. He’d gotten on the bad side of too many redmen and most of them don’t even need a good reason to take a white man’s hair.”

“I felt sorry for his widow and children,” Copper continued. “I helped them send Pierre’s body to meet his spirit and then I took them to Harlon’s.”

“Who’s that?” Tucker asked.

“A squatter,” Copper answered. “His wife died. Did you know that?”

“Heard something about it,” Gus said. “Had trouble getting that last child out, didn’t she?”

“Yes, and the baby is wasting away. Harlon said he couldn’t keep the goat milk in the baby’s stomach. I talked him into letting Floating Flower stay and nursemaid the baby. She’ll have another one herself in the spring. She couldn’t stay there on the edge of the Gros Ventre land, that’s for sure. They’d let her starve before they lifted a finger to help her now that Feet Like Wind has her husband’s scalp on his belt.”

“And she agreed to stay on with Harlon, did she?” Gus asked, chuckling under his breath at the turn of events.

“Well, neither one was real happy with the situation, but they gradually saw the advantages of it. Floating Flower said she’d stay for a while to see if she liked it. Harlon said she could pitch her tepee out behind the house and he’d share his provisions with her, providing she nursed his daughter and helped around the place. I think it’s a sound trade.”

“I think those two are damned lucky you came along and hitched them together.” Micah aimed a stream of juice into the fireplace. The flames hissed as the tobacco and spit hit their mark. “If Pierre had listened to you, he’d be alive and kickin’. Of course, he didn’t have any braggin’ rights on brains. All he knew how to do was lie, cheat, and keep his woman pregnant.”

“Well, at least he’s quiet now and won’t be bringing any more trouble to my door.”

“Yeah, but the damage is done, Copper. He’s got Feet Like Wind on the warpath and you’re still standin’ square in it,” Micah pointed out. “That crazy Injun’s got it in his head that this soldier is walkin’ around and making a fool out of him. He won’t rest until he guts himself this Yankee captain.”
Micah grinned and moved the wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other. “No offense, pal. I’m just telling it like it is.”

“I think you’re right. Sartain’s death won’t make my situation any better.” Tucker held Copper’s gaze. “I would have told you about my decision to leave, but I knew you’d argue and probably convince me to stay.”

“We’ve talked about this and already agreed you would leave in the spring. Is your word worthless, Tucker Jones?”

“No, but circumstances have made me reconsider.”

“You gave me your promise,” she insisted.

Tucker threw up his hands. “All right, damn it! I’m only trying to keep you alive.” He gritted his teeth and growled at her. “You’re the most insufferable woman I’ve ever met!”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re strappin’ him down,” Micah drawled. “He’s a free man, so set him free. If he wants to go, let him! Why are you making such a fuss about it?”

Copper stared at her plate, unable to meet any of the curious eyes. “It’s not necessary for you to understand, Micah,” she said quietly. “Excuse me. Nature calls.” She hurried from the cabin and stood outside for a few moments, gathering in great gulps of the crisp air before taking the track to the outhouse in back.

When she’d finished she emerged from the low building and tipped back her head to appreciate the splendor of the night sky. She raised a hand, thinking she might be able to brush her fingertips against the velvety blackness and feel the fire of the stars. Footsteps crunched the snow near her and Copper whirled to confront Tucker. He stopped a few feet from her and stuffed his hands under the hem of his leather shirt to warm them. His expression was contrite.

“I guess I worked myself into a lather while you
were gone. It galled me that you’d outsmarted me again. Then when you didn’t show up by sunset and we had nothing but that old mule to transport any of us, I blew my stack. Sorry.”

She nodded. “I knew this.”

He frowned. “That’s what irks me. You know me too well.”

“I told you that my medicine is great.” She walked along the track and he fell into step beside her. “I don’t want you to fret about Feet Like Wind. My medicine will crush him if he challenges me.”

“Copper, I have trouble placing such faith on good luck or bad luck. We make our own luck. We should prepare for battle because I think that the Gros Ventre will make war on us soon.”

“Tucker, I didn’t live this long by not expecting bad medicine. I’m only telling you that it’s Feet Like Wind who is frightened of me, not the other way around.”

Micah’s raised voice reached them outside.

“… and get yourself upstairs. I don’t want you hovering around me like a bee after honey. Go on! Get!”

Copper winced. “He treats her badly.”

“Do you think he’ll take up with her again and raise that baby?”

“I don’t know. I hope he will. I’ve made it clear that he shouldn’t hold out hope that he’ll win my heart. I’m grateful for Micah’s friendship, but that’s all I want from him. He has ties with Rides In A Circle and he must strengthen them before the baby comes.”

“Why won’t you call her Ann?”

Copper made a distasteful face. “Because that’s not her name. Micah calls her that so that he can fool himself into thinking she’s white. Well, she’s not and never will be.”

“She’s a pretty woman. The Sioux seem to be a handsome people.”

“The Sioux, puh! I spit on those mangy dogs!” She didn’t realize that he’d moved to stand at her other side to remove himself from beneath the dripping roof until her spittal plopped onto the front of his shirt. She mouthed a choice Crow word and her gaze lifted slowly to his. “I didn’t know you were standing there and I … oh, Tucker, I’m sorry.” Laughter boiled in her chest, but she kept a straight face.

Tucker stared at the white foam on his shirt and a grin slashed across his face. He ran a hand over the dampness, rubbing it into the leather. “As long as it was an accident …”

“It was! I swear, it was!”

He examined her sparkling, dark eyes and lush, smiling mouth. Reaching out, he grabbed one of her wrists and pulled her closer to him. Her smile began to fade as uncertainty intervened.

“Don’t ever run off like that again, Copper,” he whispered fiercely to her. “I almost went out of my mind! I have nightmares about what might happen to you and Valor because of me.”

She placed the fingertips of her free hand against his lips. “Shhh. You worry too much, Tucker Jones. I’m not a gentle Yankee maiden, unwise to the ways of ruthless men.” She kissed his eyelids. “So sleep sound tonight.” A thought struck her. “Tucker, is Micah right? Do you feel shackled to me? Are you anxious to see the last of me and my baby?”

He brought her wrist to his lips and kissed the beating pulse, then traced a blue vein with the tip of his tongue. “Any shackles were put there at my behest.”

She nodded, satisfied, and worked her wrist from his grasp. “We’ll set out tomorrow after breakfast.”

“It’ll be good to be home again.”

T
he ivory comb anchored the hair back from her left temple. Copper ran a fingertip over the comb, wondering about the woman who had worn it before her. Sometimes, when she least expected it, she heard her mother’s voice calling out her name. It never failed to send a jolt through her, upsetting her momentarily as the shadow of fear passed over her. She tried not to dwell on that day of massacre, but snatches of it floated to the surface from time to time. Mostly she heard the screams, the wails, the war whoops. One persistent memory lived over the years; that of being held on her mother’s lap while her father sang an Irish song and her mother harmonized. They’d had lovely voices.

When she had outgrown childhood, she’d often imagined what her life might have been if her parents had lived. Vastly different, she knew. Where would they have settled? How many brothers and sisters would she have grown up with? Perhaps her life wouldn’t have been happy. Perhaps her father would have continued to like whiskey too much and would have heeded her mother’s pleas to curb his temper too seldom. One thing was certain, she would have been raised white by whites, and that would have given her a sense of belonging she had never achieved among the Crow.

Putting away the mirror and brush, Copper
stood and looked down at the lemon yellow dress Gus had given her the day she’d moved into her cabin. She’d donned it and shared her first meal in her new cabin with Gus and Micah. Both men had lavished her with compliments. Tonight she’d go fishing for more, but this time from Tucker Jones. She looked out the window and saw no sign of him yet, so she checked on Valor. The baby was sleeping soundly, having a clean nappy and a full stomach.

Arriving at the cabin that afternoon, she and Tucker had set to a variety of chores from chopping more wood to hauling water. They had worked happily together, glad to be alone again on land they knew and in a cabin they both called home. Tucker had suggested she go on inside to cook supper while he finished feeding and watering the animals. Copper had decided to prepare a special supper of venison steaks Gus had sent with them, wild onions, potatoes, turnips, and berry cobbler. She’d put on her best dress and brushed tangles from her hair. The last man she’d tried to impress with her womanly endowments had been Stands Tall. She shoved those memories aside, afraid they’d eventually give her second thoughts.