Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (33 page)
***
The old man shoveled the toe of his boot under a large rock like he meant to unseat the thing and send it rolling out of his way.
"We need to go after him."
"In the morning," Jem said.
"We can track him better during the daylight anyway.
He left all sorts of sign to cut."
"If we lose him…after coming this far…"
"We won't.
Did you eat?"
"Like a heathen," he said.
"These women haven't had a reason to celebrate anything lately.
Give them a chance to cook and I will tell what.
They made me a feast."
"Good," Jem said.
"Now go find one of the lonely older ones in dire need of company and leave me alone for a little while."
His grizzled face cracked with a smile, "You got a fresh mouth and a dirty mind, Junior.
You know that?"
"Don't mean it ain't a good idea, padre."
Jem walked toward the fire at the center of the camp.
He saw the old woman sitting at the head of her people with Squawk and the other two boys.
They were speaking in Beothuk, and the old woman stopped short to look up at him as he passed.
"Sorry to interrupt," Jem said.
He kept moving.
Hehewuti looked back at Haienwa'tha and said, "The wasichu was brave today."
"Then you should honor him instead of sending him away," he said.
Her lips flattened at his suggestion as he looked back at the white man. "Perhaps later," she said.
"The old ways have deep roots in my heart and will take much to be changed.
I do not say this with pride.
Only as truth."
"It was the same for many of my people as well," Haienwa'tha said.
"But know this, none hate the wasichu more than Toquame Keewassee.
No one teaches that they must be made war on more than he.
If you embrace that hatred, you embrace what he is."
The women surrounding him nodded.
Some of them turned to watch Jem walk away.
"Speaking of him, what will you do now?" Hehewuti said.
"Come morning, El-Halcon and I will ride out to find Keewassee and put an end to him.
We will avenge your men and return to our lands."
Hehewuti looked at some of the women, then back at him.
Whatever she was about to say was hard for her to force out of her mouth.
Pride kept her lips shut.
The younger woman to her right nodded and said, "Ask him."
"As you can see, we have no men left," Hehewuti said.
"Perhaps, if your tribe accepts you as the new Chief, and if an arrangement can be made, then we might be…"
Haienwa'tha held up his hand and said, "You are welcome to come with us.
My father always taught me that even though we are many tribes, we are one race.
One nation.
One people."
The women around the fire smiled and talked to one another excitedly, and Thathanka-Ska leaned close to his brother and whispered, "That's the other part."
"What part?"
"Of the vision.
He will lead our people out of the desert and into new lands
."
Haienwa'tha rolled his eyes and said, "You are being ridiculous."
"But it's true!"
"No it is not, because I am not the one who will be leading them back to our tribe.
You will."
He looked at Lakhpia-Sha and said, "Both of you are taking these women home at first light."
"I thought we were going to find Keewassee!" Thathanka-Ska said.
"No.
I am going to find him.
You are going home."
The boy opened his mouth to protest and Haienwa'tha said, "You are the one who insisted I be Chief.
This is my command.
Escort the women of the Hopituh-Shi-nu-mu back and advise Mahpiya and Osceola of everything you have born witness to.
They will know what to do."
"Until you get back, you mean," Thathanka-Ska said quickly.
"Of course," Haienwa'tha said.
"That is what I meant to say."
Bob Ford turned over to his side to look down at the river where Ruth Pettigrew was dunking shirts in the water.
She was surrounded by soap bubbles and her dress was soaked all the way through so that it stuck to her body.
Bob plucked a handful of feverfew and rolled them around in his hands.
He looked for more, maybe enough to make a decent bouquet.
I know what you've been through,
he said in his mind.
I've been there, and it don't make you any less of a person.
You just have to understand, it wasn't in my heart to hurt you.
If I hadn't done it, it would have been one of the other ones and they would have done far worse.
Can you forgive me?
You can?
"Them sure are some purdy flowers, Bob," Jim said.
"They for me?"
Bob smirked and tossed the flowers aside as he sat up.
"That's what I do when we're not together.
I pick flowers and write sonnets for you."
"Ain't you something else?" Jim said.
He looked over Bob's shoulder just as Ruth bent over to wring out one of the shirts. "I almost hate to sell 'em off.
Even though the other ones went loopy, this one's a keeper.
For once in their miserable lives, these boys don't smell worse than the destriers."
"When's that?" Bob said nervously.
"Don't you worry about that, now," Jim said.
He tapped the side of his head with his finger, "The boss has it all stored away up here.
The less anybody else knows, the better."
He leaned down to Bob and whispered, "I'll tell you this much though, being that you're my lieutenant and all.
If there's anything special you want to do with little Ruth, you best do it before the next two days.
You catch my drift?"
Bob nodded and said he did.
Jim smiled at him, "Don't go telling nobody though.
I like to keep these boys on their toes."
"All right," Bob said.
As soon as Jim left, he spun around and picked up the flowers, then grabbed broke a few more off their stems.
He smoothed back his hair and checked his breath with his palm.
Good enough.
Ruth slung the rung out shirt over a tree branch and went back to the basket to fetch another.
She walked it into the dank, hot water and stuffed it under the surface.
When she looked up, Bob Ford was standing on the embankment looking at her.
"I'm sick, Bob," she said.
Bob had been about to raise the flowers to show her but stopped short and said, "Sorry?"
"I said I am sick, so I can't right now.
Not unless you want me to puke on you.
All the other girls are sick too, so leave them alone."
"Those other ones aren't sick.
They're minds snapped or something."
"What makes you think I'm any better, Bob?"
"You don't walk around here soiling all over yourself, that's for one."
She shot him a look that made Bob feel humbled.
"Listen, I came for something else anyway.
I been meaning to talk to you."
She pulled the shirt out of the water and started to squeeze it.
"About?"
"I was thinking, you know, Jim's got plans for you all and they don't include you staying here."
"What, you mean I have to give up the glory of cooking for all you, whoring for you, and cleaning up all the mess?
Whatever shall I do?"
"I meant that maybe you and me could…"
She looked at the flowers in his hand and his bright red face and laughed suddenly.
"You don't mean the two of us, right?"
"I do."
She dropped the shirt in the water and came up on the beach, hiking her skirt up as she closed in on him.
She came within inches of him and said, "You forced yourself on me, Bob.
You treated me like a piece of meat and stood by while all your friends did the same.
Don't you
ever
fool yourself into thinking I could ever feel anything but pure hatred for you and your kind."
"I never hurt you, Miss Ruth," Bob whispered.
"Get away from me," she said.
When Bob didn't move, she screamed it louder and beat him back with her fists, "Get away from me!"
"Hey!" Jim called out from above the embankment.
"What you getting the help all stirred up for?
Is it romance time already?" he said with a sharp smile.
Bob looked back at Ruth as she spun on her heels and returned to the water.
He set the flowers down on the beach and walked back up toward the camp.
She's just short-tempered cause she's sick,
he thought.
The Ruth in his mind picked up the flowers when no one was looking and hid them away, a respite from all the ugliness surrounding them.
That's what we are to one another,
he thought.
An island in a raging sea.
He suddenly wanted to write that down, but as he walked over to his bedroll to grab a pencil, one of the men shouted, "We've got company."
Gentleman Jim hopped on one foot as he tried to slide on his boots.
He picked up his shotgun and broke the barrels down, making sure they were loaded.
"Friend or foe?" he called out.
"It's the itjin."
"How many of them?"
"Just one," the man said.
