Eagle’s Song (13 page)

Georgeanne studied them both for a moment, seeing only a man and woman who were handsome to behold.

“Think about Zeke’s heritage, child. I carry no bitterness, but I do know the hard, cold facts of life, and they are that most people think their own kind should stay with their own kind.
We
don’t believe that has to be so, and neither did Zeke’s grandma, Abbie, who married my father, a half-breed Cheyenne man. She would be the first to say that all that counts is love, but she also can attest to how a woman can suffer when she makes such a choice. You have to do your own soul-searching, child; give yourself time to know if you’re strong enough to face the problems that would come to you from marrying someone like Zeke.”

Georgeanne closed her eyes. “I don’t care what you say. We could be apart for ten years and I’d love Zeke just as much the moment I set eyes on him again as I do now.” She stood up and faced them. “I’ll do as you say and try to go on with my life. I’ll most certainly leave the ranch because I can’t be around my father right now. But I’ll never forget Zeke. I won’t stop loving him, and I know I could handle any problems that would go with marrying him. That’s what I came here to tell him, but now …” Zeke! Would she ever see him again? “How bad was it? Is he scarred?”

Morgan rose. “It’s hard to say. He still had a lot of scrapes and bruises on him when he left. Some of the wounds were deep enough that they’ll leave scars, mostly on his arms and back and chest. He kept his arms wrapped up around his face, he said, trying to protect his eyes, so his face didn’t get scraped all that bad.”

Georgeanne sniffed, struggling to hold back the tears. “I’m so sorry about all of this, sorry we had to
meet this way. Please promise me you will get word to me if you hear from Zeke.”

Morgan shook his head. “I don’t think we should. This was Zeke’s decision, Georgeanne, not ours. If this is the way he wants it, we will not interfere. If he decides to try to find you, there is nothing we can do about that either. This is between him and you.”

She wanted to die. He was gone. Gone! Maybe he’d go all the way to California, or up to see some of his cousins in Montana and Wyoming. It could be weeks or months before anyone heard from him, for he was apparently determined to forget her, and that would take time. She could not stay at the ranch all that time, having to be near her father. She didn’t want to hate him, but he was the reason for all of this, and she would never forgive him for that or for nearly killing Zeke after promising not to do him any more harm.

“I am glad to have finally met you both,” she said sadly. “Zeke always had nothing but wonderful things to say about you. I wish I could brag about my own father the way he brags about his.” She turned away and headed for the door.

“Georgeanne,” Margaret called out. Georgeanne stopped. “We’re sorry, too. Anyone who grows up under the thumb of Carson Temple and turns out like you must be unique, very wise and perceptive. There is obviously an inborn goodness in you, perhaps from your mother. I am glad to know our son chose such a woman to love. I’m just sorry it had to turn out this way.”

“So am I,” Georgeanne answered, her throat aching from a constant battle against tears. She stepped outside, glanced at Zeke’s brothers, then walked to her horse, which Nathan had tied to a hitching post for her. She undid the reins and mounted the animal, remembering the joy she’d felt racing against Indian, laughing with Zeke, sharing friendship, sharing kisses—remembered
how good it felt to have his strong arms around her. Somehow she was going to find him again. She was convinced God meant for them to be together.

Part of her felt totally defeated, but she refused to let it take over and destroy her, make her lose hope. She glanced at the doorway, where Margaret and Morgan stood watching her. “We will see each other again, I promise,” she told them. She turned and rode off, and Margaret slipped an arm around Morgan’s waist, resting her head against his chest.

“Young love can be so painful,” she remarked, remembering her own first experience, the ugly way it had turned out. How well she knew the hurt.

“She’s quite a fine lady,” Morgan commented. “Hard to believe, considering who her father is. Do you think he sent her here just to see what’s happening with Zeke?”

Margaret turned to watch Georgeanne disappear on the horizon. “No. The way she reacted to what she learned was too genuine. I think she truly didn’t know what her father did to Zeke. She loves him, Morgan. How sad.”

He sighed, kissing her hair. “Sad for both of them. But they’ll get over it somehow. Like you said, time can heal a lot of things.”

Twelve

It was a hot August night, and Abbie left the windows open, thinking how much cooler it would be higher in the mountains. The reservation was on the open eastern plains of Montana. Far be it from the government to give the Indians land that was truly beautiful and worth something.

She could not sleep, mostly because she knew Swift Arrow also could not sleep. He never had liked a real bed, and when it was warm he preferred to sleep outside under the stars. She had asked him to lie beside her tonight, but she knew he was wide awake. “Do you think I should be the one to go back with the deed instead of Jeremy?” she asked him.

He sighed and sat up. “You’re awake, too, I see.”

“I am very restless tonight. So many thoughts are passing through my mind. I told Margaret I’d bring back the deed myself, but if there is any hope of Wolf’s Blood coming here, I don’t want to be gone. He needs supplies by now, Swift Arrow, a tent, clothes, winter garb, a good horse.”

“I know. I know.” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window. “There is no reason for you to go all the way back. You have been through so much, with Zeke and Wolf’s Blood, helping console the children. In a few days they will be ready to go to Denver with Jeremy, and the last of the horses will be
sold, except for what Hawk wants to keep.” He rubbed at his eyes. “It hurts my heart so, Abbie. I think about the days Wolf’s Blood and I were so close, when he was young and happy and eager. Even here, with his ranch, the children, Jennifer, he was as happy as he could be, considering he had to live on a reservation and go on without his father. I will miss the children so much when they leave. I know you will, too. With Dan and Rebecca also choosing to move to Denver with Emily, only Jason will remain here. It will be lonely, and yet I could never live anyplace else than here with my people.” He turned to look at her in the dim moonlight. “I am sorry, Abbie. I know you would prefer to go to Denver and be with the children, or perhaps move back to the old ranch.”

Abbie sat up and moved beside him. “My children are all grown and have their own lives now, Swift Arrow. They know I am here for them if they need me. Now I only want to be with you for as long as we have together. I had my reunion, and I know we’ll never all be together like that again, but I’ve learned to accept what has to be. Zeke would want me to stay here with you and continue teaching the children. And he’d want me to be here for …”

He put up a hand to silence her and rose, going to the window. Abbie watched curiously, then heard it, a soft trill, like a birdcall. She’d lived among Indians too many years not to recognize the sound as a signal. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. Who else but Wolf’s Blood would be signaling them?

“It is he!” Swift Arrow whispered. “I am sure of it!” He quickly pulled on a pair of denim pants he’d left hanging over the back of a chair, and Abbie got up and picked up her robe, putting it on as she followed him out. “Do not light any lamps,” Swift Arrow told her softly. He opened the door and left it that way,
then stood back. He gave out a birdcall of his own, and moments later a figure loomed in the doorway.

“Wolf’s Blood!” Abbie whispered.

He moved toward her, and Swift Arrow closed the door. Wolf’s Blood swept his mother into his arms, and she thought for a moment how Zeke had done this so many times, returning to her at times when she feared she would never see him again. She burst into tears of joy to know he was alive, that he had made it here without being caught.

“Do not cry, Mother,” he said softly. “We must not draw any kind of attention. Soldiers lurk everywhere, watching my ranch and this place.”

He turned from her and embraced his uncle, and Abbie thought how few men could manage to get here through so many obstacles and watchful eyes without being captured. Her son still had the cunning of a wolf, the ability to move about without being seen.

“We were just talking about you,” Swift Arrow told him. “Your mother has been praying you would come, so that you could see Hawk and Iris before they go to Denver.”

“Come into the bedroom,” Abbie told him, taking his hand and struggling against a need to weep openly. “It’s darker. Someone might see our shadows moving about.”

He laid his blanket on the table and followed her into the bedroom of the small log cabin she shared with Swift Arrow, and all three of them sat down on the bed.

“How are you, son? Are you injured? You must be so hungry.”

“My only injuries are to the heart,” he answered, “and the wounds I inflicted upon myself in mourning.”

Abbie well knew what that meant, and it sickened
her to think of his lonely suffering. “Are you healing all right?”

“I am. My clothes are badly worn, though. I need you to go to the ranch house, get some clothes, winter jackets and moccasins, blankets and—”

“You don’t need to tell me. I’ve been through this too many times. I know what to pack. And you’ll want two or three good horses. I’ll let Swift Arrow pick them out for you.”

“I also want to see my son and my daughter. You said they are going to Denver?”

“Yes,” Abbie answered. “Jeremy said that was what you wanted them to do if anything happened to you. He’s here.”

“Jeremy? He came all the way up here to the reservation?”

“He thought he should stay with the children and take them back himself. He’ll take the deed with him, get everything legalized and take it to Margaret. I’ll stay here with Swift Arrow.”

Wolf’s Blood sighed, kissing her cheek. “It will be lonely for you without us here. I am sorry for all of this, but I could not stop myself, nor do I regret killing those men.”

“You know many men search for you,” Swift Arrow told him.

“Oh, yes, I know. I lost one company of soldiers somewhere in the mountains in Wyoming. I knew more would be watching for me to come back here. I have been waiting for days to find the right moment to come. I left the horse I had been using many miles south of here, and earlier I threw the saddle into a deep ravine where it might never be found. It had that man’s name on it. I did not want it to be found on the horse. I have been on foot ever since. My boots are badly worn, and yes, I am very hungry. I have been
eating raw meat and berries. I miss your biscuits and gravy, Mother.”

The words tore at her heart. She would have him for a day or two, then lose him again, perhaps for years. She would not have the pleasure of cooking for him and his family on Sundays, making things they’d always enjoyed. “I’ll make some just for you. You can hide right here in the bedroom for the next day or two, see the children. We’ll find a way to get the things you need over here without drawing a lot of attention.”

He grasped their hands. “Once I leave again, I am afraid it must be for a long time. I will go to Canada.”

Oh, the pain of it. Abbie had once thought a mother stopped worrying about her children and wanting to take care of them when they were grown, but that was not so. She would always feel this way, always look at her children as young and vulnerable and in need of her care, although Wolf’s Blood had been one child who had never seemed to need her. Even when very small, he had always been wild and free and restless.

“Hawk is beside himself,” she told him. “He loves you so, Wolf’s Blood. This has been hardest on him.”

He let go and rested his head in his hands. “I knew that it would be so.”

“Lie down on our bed, son,” Swift Arrow told him. “You must be so tired, and for a long time you have been sleeping on the cold ground with only that one blanket. I will sleep outside under the stars, and your mother can sleep on a couch in the other room. No one will know you are here. We will wait until the children come over tomorrow to tell them. If we go and get them now, it will draw too much attention.”

“I am glad Jeremy is here. It shows that he cares about my children.” Wolf’s Blood suddenly was very weary. He’d left his wolf pet in the mountains. The animal seemed to understand it could not come with
him, but he would go back for the wolf before be headed for Canada. The young wolf was his only friend now, his only companion.

Abbie rose and urged him to lie down, happy that for a short while she could bring her son some kind of comfort. “You’ll be safe here,” she told him. “We’ll warn the children to be careful how they behave. They come over every day to talk, so no one will think anything of their coming tomorrow.”

Wolf’s Blood settled onto the bed, and exhaustion quickly set in once he realized he was safe. He had spent many nights on the cold ground … except the night the wolves came to comfort him. Now he was so tired he didn’t even want to get back up to undress. He was aware that Swift Arrow pulled off his boots, aware his mother was covering him.

“My God, he’s already falling asleep,” he heard Abbie say. “He must be completely worn out.”

“I worry the same will happen to you,” Swift Arrow answered her.

Wolf’s Blood managed to capture her hand and hold it tight. “Please do not worry, Mother,” he said, his words slightly slurred from his being so close to sleep. “I am Wolf’s Blood. I have lived this way before. Once I know Hawk and Iris will be all right, then
I
will be all right. You stay strong … for them. They will need you.”

“And who will there be for you, son?” she asked, leaning down and kissing his cheek.

“The wolves. They came … slept with me … kept me warm. A young one stayed. He … waits for me in the mountains.”

The last word was barely audible.

Hawk felt like crying at having to single out only three horses to keep. He’d been attached to all of them in
one way or another, and he knew how precious they were to his father. He pulled Lone Eagle aside, picked out a black Thoroughbred gelding and another Appaloosa, a mare. “We’d better keep the pinto for Iris,” he told Jeremy and Swift Arrow. “She likes that one.”

“That’s fine. I’ll pay to board all four of them on the train once we reach Cheyenne,” Jeremy told him. “Since Mary isn’t with me we’ll just ride there, using the horses. We won’t need a wagon.”

“I’ll take care of the sale of the rest of them and send you the money,” Swift Arrow told Hawk. “You have Jeremy set it aside for you, so that you can pay for some of your own things and help pay for an education. I will sell all your father’s tools and the household belongings. That will bring you even more money.”

Hawk wondered if he would ever get over this sick loneliness. “I want you to give some of them away to any of the Indians who need things—clothes and blankets and things like that. Father would want it so. I think Jennifer would have, too.”

Swift Arrow smiled lovingly and nodded. “That is a wise decision, Hawk.”

The boy felt a little better. “I want to stay here with the other horses for a little while. Then I’ll come to Grandma’s for lunch like always.”

Swift Arrow nodded, looking at Jeremy. “You come now, Jeremy. I have something to show you.”

Jeremy frowned curiously and left with him, and Hawk moved among the horses, petting each one, talking to them. Moments later he noticed Arianne watching him from the barn, and he realized he had not thought about her at all since he’d learned about the incident with Jennifer and his father. She had aroused a strange curiosity in him that day before he left for the reunion, but after a while he had forgotten about it. Now here she was again, watching him with those
big, blue eyes. She wore a blue calico dress that matched her eyes and had ruffles at the shoulders and around the neck. It was quite pretty, and he suspected she’d worn it just to come and see him, which for some reason irritated him. Girls didn’t dress like that on normal days on a dusty ranch. She looked ready to go to a party.

“Hi, Hawk.” She stepped a little closer. “I’m … glad you’re back, but I’m real sorry … About your father and mother. My brother told me about it. It must be terrible for you—for your whole family. I thought you’d come home all happy about the reunion. I was going to ask you about it, but I know you must be so sad inside … and you probably don’t want to tell me about it.”

“That’s right.” He walked past her into the barn to get a grooming brush for the horses. Arianne followed him inside.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, “about your stepmother. And your father, if he gets caught—”

“He
won’t
get caught! Nobody catches the great warrior Wolf’s Blood if he does not want to be found! They want to hang him! He will
never
let that happen! Not my father!”

His eyes teared on the last words, and Arianne wished she knew what to do or say to make him feel better. “I … I hope you’re right, Hawk, I really do. I don’t want anything to happen to him either.”

He picked up the brush and charged past her, back into the corral to brush down Lone Eagle. “Why don’t you just go away?” he said, vigorously yanking the brush through the horse’s mane.

This was not how Arianne had pictured his homecoming. She had wanted him to come back before she herself had to leave, and she thought perhaps they could deepen their friendship. She also wanted him
to promise again to write to her. Did he have any idea how the sight of him flustered her, made her feel warm all over, made her stomach flip? She wanted to touch him, feel him kiss her again. She had not forgotten that first warm kiss.

“I only came over here to tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I waited a few days to give you time alone. I’m sorry if I made you mad, Hawk.”

He quickly wiped at unwanted tears, but remained turned away from her. “Quit being sorry for everything,” he answered. “None of it is your fault. Just go back home. You shouldn’t even be here. Your brother wouldn’t like it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t care. I like you, Hawk. I wanted you to know you have a friend, and I still want to write to you—”

“Don’t be silly!” he interrupted. He turned, anger and bitterness in his dark eyes. “Do you want to end up like my stepmother?”

She frowned, her heart pounding with dread that she had made him angry. He surely hated her, the way he was looking at her. “What?”

“She was a white woman married to an Indian! And now she’s
dead!
My cousin, Zeke, down in Colorado, he was beaten up and dragged behind a horse because he liked a
white
girl! My grandma Abbie told me. It happened after we left the reunion. Does that tell you something, Arianne? You shouldn’t want to be friends with me, because I am
Indian
. I am
proud
to be Indian, but most folks from your world look at us differently.”