Authors: Cynthia Wright
Graham had gone pale as she spoke, then gradually looked relieved. "As a matter of fact, I have met your friend, Fox. He is splendid! He's given me invaluable advise about purchasing land here in town, and I owe him an immense debt."
"So immense that you might attempt to court me if he asked you to?" Maddie inquired sweetly.
Winslow broke out in a sweat. "Hot today, isn't it? Horrible weather."
"Would you mind terribly if I asked you to see yourself out, Mr. Winslow? I've just remembered a very pressing appointment."
With that, Maddie stood up and marched into the kitchen. She didn't even pause to speak to Gramma Susan before throwing open the back door and emerging into the sunlight. Through the pine trees, she could see Fox and Benjamin in front of the log cabin, sawing a log supported between two sawhorses.
Her hands were balled into fists, and she felt as if fire were flashing from her eyes as she strode up to them. Fox looked up, wiped his forehead with his rolled-up shirtsleeve, and then went back to sawing as if Maddie didn't exist. Her brother glanced between them, confused.
"Benjamin, you must hurry home right now. Gramma Susan needs you." She was too angry to think of anything except a lie. While the little boy was running toward the other house, Maddie turned to inspect the flowers she had planted. "Don't you water them? You have to water them or they'll die."
Fox merely shrugged and continued sawing patiently.
Maddie threw herself at him, striking his face with her fists, hearing her underarm seam rip, grappling for his shoulders as if she could bring him down and overpower him. "I hate you!" she sobbed. "How dare you let my flowers die? Are you killing them to hurt me? What kind of man are you? And that person you bribed to come into my home and lie to me! Did you think I wouldn't know he was a fraud? Do you take me for a
fool?"
Fox caught her wrists and held her easily away from him. "Good God, have you lost your mind?"
Tears were streaming down her face. "Why—why—?"
Fox's jaw tensed and his blue eyes hardened as he stared at her. "Because I can never give you what you want, Maddie. Understand? I want you to
forget all about me."
His voice was like a steel blade that penetrated her heart. Maddie thought she might die from the pain, but then she heard another voice, high-pitched and frightened, crying out from the row of pine trees.
"Fox, Fox! Come quick!" It was Benjamin. "Something's really wrong with Papa! He says he has to talk to
you
right away!"
Chapter 11
July 30-August 2, 1876
Maddie lifted her skirts and ran, oblivious to the mud that spattered her ivory kid shoes. Fox sprinted past her across his lot, between the pine trees, and then he disappeared inside her house.
By the time Maddie burst into the kitchen, her face was pink, her hair a fiery tumble of curls down her back. Susan O'Hara was waiting for her.
"Gramma, what's happened?"
"There's no cause for alarm, darling," the old woman replied in soothing tones. She took Maddie's trembling hands and looked into her eyes. "Your father has had a... spell of some sort. He had a pain in his chest and he began to sweat, but it has passed now. Apparently, however, it frightened him enough to disclose some of the matters he has so clearly been keeping to himself."
"But... what about a doctor...?"
"Benjamin has run for Dr. Sick, who may or may not be in Deadwood. Failing to find a physician, he will seek advice from one of our friends on Main Street."
"Well, I'm going to Father right now!" As Maddie started toward the doorway to the parlor, Susan caught her torn sleeve.
"My dear, he's asked to speak to Fox. We must allow them some privacy."
Her granddaughter whirled around, eyes ablaze. "That's
ridiculous
! Why, Father could die without seeing anyone except that vile
Fox.
I do not believe that there is anything he wishes to say to him that he would not wish me to hear also!"
Susan stepped back. "Have it your way."
Maddie knew a momentary pang of shame for shouting at her grandmother. "I'm terribly frightened... about Father."
"Of course you are." Susan's voice was neutral.
Precious seconds were ticking away. Maddie gave the old woman a faltering smile, then hurried toward the doorway to her father's bedroom.
The door was locked.
"Father?" she called, knocking. "It's Maddie. May I come in?"
A mumbling sound was followed by the click of the latch, and then the door swung open. Fox stood before her. "You must be very calm, and if he asks you to go, you mustn't argue, Maddie."
She pushed past him, pausing only long enough to cry, "I'll thank you not to instruct me regarding my own father, sir!" An instant later she was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Stephen's hand. He was shockingly pale and drawn, and for the first time she noticed that his wavy black hair was flecked with gray. "Papa," Maddie whispered. "How are you?"
He managed a brave smile, but there was fear in his eyes and he made no effort to move. "No doubt I'll recover, my dearest. What of you?"
"I?" she echoed.
"You... look as if you've been in an accident," he remarked, still smiling faintly.
Maddie felt Fox's eyes on her like a brand as she fingered her flurry of unbound curls and with her other hand felt for the ripped seam in her sleeve. She gave a short laugh. "I did have an accident of sorts, but it was nothing serious. I'll be
much
more careful in the future."
"Well, then, if you have set your mind at ease, my dear, I would ask you to grant me time alone with our friend Fox."
Bristling, Maddie tightened her grip on his hand. "Father, how can it be that you would share confidences with him and yet deny your own daughter the same honor? Am I not worthy of your trust? Please, can't you see that I'm a woman now and not a child?"
"Miss Avery, your father hasn't much strength." Fox put a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away as if scorched.
"Never mind, Fox," Stephen whispered hoarsely. "Madeleine is right. She is an adult and I should not try to shield her from the secrets of my past if she prefers the painful truth. Besides, it may be necessary that someone here understand what is transpiring over the next weeks... in case I do not recover." He gestured for Fox to sit down on a nearby stool, which his friend did, hitching it closer to the bed.
"You are going to be fine, Father," Maddie murmured, tears pricking her eyes at the very thought of losing him so soon after they had been reunited.
The room was oppressively hot, and Fox rose to throw open a window and roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Then, settling himself on the stool, he looked over at Stephen expectantly.
"I don't have the strength to explain everything I've done the way I'd like to, Maddie," Stephen said, begging her with his eyes to understand. "I do want you to know that I loved your mother... though I realize I wasn't always the husband she deserved."
"She loved you, too," she replied.
"I was away too much, but the urge to seek adventure and explore new land was too powerful for me to resist. Your mother seemed to understand that I would not be happy if I remained in Philadelphia and followed the rules. It has occurred to me that she, who never bent if she could remain erect in life, allowed me to bend for both of us." Stephen pointed to the bottle of brandy on the table beside his bed, and Fox poured him a small glass and helped him to drink it.
"Father, you can explain all of this to me another time. Whatever it was that you did when you were away from us, I shall understand," Maddie reassured him, fearing that he might have another spell that would render him incapable of speech.
He sighed deeply; a resolute expression appeared on his haggard face. "I... had other lives when I was away. I was sometimes lonely, but..."He looked away from Maddie and sighed again. "When I was returning East from the Nevada silver strike in '59, I encountered surprise snowstorms that forced me to seek shelter not far from here with a band of Teton Sioux Indians. I traded with them, began to feel at home with them, and stayed so long that I had to wait out the winter."
Fox sat forward at this news but said nothing. Maddie looked slightly bewildered.
"Life among the Indian people is impossible to describe. We whites have woefully misjudged the depth and richness of their culture. I was happy there." Stephen's eyes misted for a moment, then he recovered. "There is a purity and harmony in their way of life that we have lost in our constant striving for progress. But you must not misunderstand me, Maddie. I did not forget about my family, and when the thaws came in spring, I was anxious to return to you and your mother."
"Is that your secret?" she whispered, hoping against hope.
"What I have just said is... the box that holds the secret."
Her heart began to beat very fast then, and she held tighter to her father's hand. "Dr. Sick may arrive at any moment, Papa. You must take the secret out of the box."
Looking at them, the oft-absent father and the daughter who strove for security and order, Fox felt an unexpected wave of sympathy. A box, indeed, he thought.
Stephen was nodding. "I'm not ashamed, you know, but I don't expect you to understand, my girl. The truth is... that I had tender feelings for a young maiden in the Sioux village—or Lakota, as they call themselves. Her name was Yellow Bird, and she was very kind to me that winter. I think she loved me, but she understood that I could not remain among them." He began to take shallow breaths. "The day I left, Yellow Bird told me, quite sweetly, that she carried my child."
"Father!" Maddie gasped, unable to disguise her shock.
"You certainly were not the first white man to have a child with an Indian woman," Fox said in a firm voice. "The Indians say that Custer himself had a Cheyenne wife, perhaps even a child, yet he deeply loved his wife, Elizabeth. You were human, sir, as are all of us." He gave Maddie a warning stare. "I might venture to suggest that even your daughter, whose fine qualities we all admire, is human."
"Well, of course I am!" Her eyes were brilliant as she looked from Fox to her father. "What happened then? Did Yellow Bird have the baby? What has become of them?" The notion that she might have a half-Sioux sibling was more than she could comprehend at that moment.
"Yes, Yellow Bird had a baby daughter, whom she named Sun Smile... but I didn't know this until I came out here last autumn. As you doubtless remember, Maddie, I never went West again after the war and Benjamin's birth. Your mother's health was failing, and she needed me... and I suppose I felt guilty. It wasn't until Colleen died last year that I felt I could return to the Dakota Territory and search for news of Yellow Bird and the child." The difficulty Stephen was having in telling his daughter the truth was now evident. A droplet of sweat—or a tear—trickled down the side of his cheek. "Not that I raced off and failed to grieve. You know better than that, Madeleine. But I heard about that first gold strike on Whitewood Creek in August of '75 and felt that old thrill... and to be honest, I welcomed the chance to escape my pain, and my regrets...."
"How did you find Yellow Bird?" asked Fox, steering him back to the subject.
"She was visiting her father at the Red Cloud Agency south of here. I went there to look, to ask about her, and by chance she was there. She was married, of course, and had other children. We spoke as old friends, which was oddly comforting to me. Yellow Bird was a kind and gentle woman."
Maddie had to swallow hard before she could find her voice. "And... Sun Smile? Did you see her as well?"
"No. Yellow Bird told me that Sun Smile was never fully accepted by her husband, so when she was old enough to marry, she did so. Sun Smile married a Miniconjou Sioux who shunned the efforts of whites to herd Indians onto the Great Sioux Reservation. They were among the disconnected bands who had chosen to throw in their lot with Crazy Horse and continue to live freely, roaming and hunting where they chose."
"Crazy Horse!" Maddie repeated in surprise.
Stephen glanced at Fox and caught the glint in his eyes. "I know, I know... Crazy Horse's warriors demolished the Seventh Cavalry." He paused to rest, accepting another sip of brandy when Fox offered the glass. "It was enough for me, at first, to know that Sun Smile was alive and happy, according to her mother. But, as matters with the Indians worsened, I began wondering if I didn't owe her something as her father. Before the news came about Custer, I went back to the Red Cloud Agency, hoping against hope that she and her husband might have returned there to be safe. When I heard the news about Crazy Horse and Custer, my heart sank. And..." Stephen closed his eyes for a moment, then murmured, "I learned, from Yellow Bird's father, that she and her own husband and one of their sons all died this past winter of cholera—another of the white man's gifts to the innocent Indians."
Maddie felt her heart opening as she began to understand the sadness and conflict her father had suffered. She warmed his cold hands in hers and gave him a tremulous smile.