Northwoods Nightmare (17 page)

Edith looked up and saw them. The hate on her face was almost inhuman in its intensity.

Fargo roosted on a flat boulder overlooking the rapids and watched the water rush by. He would move on when they were ready.

Boots crunched, and a silver flask was dangled in front of his eyes.

“I reckon you can use a nip, hoss.”

“I'm obliged.” Fargo took a long swallow and savored the burning and the taste.

McKern wearily sank down. “They came all this way to find a missing son and lost the other one. If life isn't ridiculous it is the next best thing.”

“You'll get no argument from me.” Fargo treated himself to another swallow and reluctantly handed back the flask. “That looks brand-new.”

“I bought it in Yale.” McKern drank and gleefully smacked his lips, then caught himself and smothered his glee. “I hope you don't mind.”

“Why would I?”

“Don't you remember when we first started out? You laid down the law. You said there was to be no fighting, and to keep the swearing down as there were womenfolk along. Most of all, you said you didn't believe in mixing drink and work.” McKern motioned at the men and animals at rest along the trail. “But we're not exactly working at the moment, are we?”

“Don't worry. I won't chuck you in the river.”

“In that case, have another chug.”

More footsteps approached, and Rohan was there. “Well, look at you two taking your ease.”

“I'll let you have a sip but that's all,” McKern said. “It has to last me until Spuzzum.”

“No, thanks. It's a long way there yet, and I have a lot of skittish critters to nursemaid.” Rohan shifted toward Fargo. “It's you I came to talk to. I figured you'd want to know that we have shadows.”

McKern squinted up at the sun and then stared at his shadow. “Why wouldn't we? When we're down at the bottom, the canyon might block the sun, but not this high up.”

“Not those kinds of shadows.” Rohan pointed at the row of bodies. “Those kinds.”

“Make it plain,” Fargo said.

“We're being followed. Not on the trail but higher up. And not by whites, either.”

Fargo resisted an urge to stand and scour the slopes. “You're sure?”

“I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't. At first I'd see a patch of brown and take it for a deer. But it was buckskins.”

“Any idea how many?” McKern asked.

“Three.”

Fargo immediately thought of the three Indians he had seen at the Hermit's cabin.

“They must be with those you killed,” McKern said.

“Maybe not.” Fargo didn't elaborate. Either way, though, if the three got word to the rest of the tribe, a war party might be sent to wipe them out.

“I thought you'd want to know,” Rohan said. “Now I'd better get back to the horses. I don't want any going over the side.”

“Keep a sharp lookout,” Fargo directed. “The next time you spot them, send word up to me.”

“Will do.”

McKern removed his hat and made a show of mopping his sweaty brow, the whole while peering up at the heights. “Want me to sneak up yonder and have a look-see?”

“That's for me to do.” Fargo noted the position of the sun. “This delay has cost us. We won't reach Spuzzum by nightfall.”

“I'd as soon find a spot to camp. This trail in the dark is an invite to an early grave.”

Fargo agreed. Besides, the Havards weren't in any condition to travel. “Stay here. I'm going to scout ahead.”

“Shouldn't you take someone? Three Indians is two more than you.”

“My Colt and my Henry together hold twenty-one shots,” Fargo mentioned. One more if he had a round in the rifle's chamber when he loaded it.

“An arrow or knife with your name on it is all it takes,” McKern said by way of a parting warning.

Fargo was glad to be on his own for a spell. The tears were understandable but depressing. He avoided looking up until he had gone about a third of a mile. The only thing that moved was a hawk.

The trail widened and narrowed and widened again before Fargo came to a shelf. The charred remains of previous fires showed it was a popular spot to stop. He kicked at the embers, then climbed back on the Ovaro and rode up the slope to find firewood.

The first stand he came to was an older mix, with plenty of branches scattered about. He climbed down and began gathering a pile. He had almost all he needed when he turned to find a few more.

Without warning three buckskin-clad figures seemed to take form and substance out of the thin air.

One of them knew English extremely well.

“Reach for your pistol and you die.”

The warrior who had spoken was armed with a rifle and the muzzle was fixed on Fargo. Another had a bow. The third, knives.

Fargo stood stock-still. That they got so close without him spotting them made him want to kick himself. “I won't reach for it if you don't give me cause.”

“Says the man who shot five Knife warriors.”

Fargo tensed to draw. He figured these three were out for revenge but except for pointing the rifle at him, they hadn't made any threatening moves.

“Don't worry. We saw what they did. They've killed many of our kind. What you did was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“ ‘Our kind'?” Fargo repeated. He looked closer and was shocked to his core. The warrior wasn't a warrior at all. Oh, the man was as dark as a Knife Indian and wore the clothes of a Knife Indian but he was
white
. And that wasn't all. Insight washed over Fargo, and he blurted, “I'll be damned.”

The man lowered the rifle and came over, his hand offered in greeting. “Yes. I'm Kenneth Havard. Pleased to meet you.”

Fargo shook and introduced himself. He glanced at the others, who stood calmly by, and then at the man he had traveled so far to find. He could see some of both Theodore and Edith in Kenneth's eyes and the set of his face. Without thinking he said, “That was your brother those five killed.”

“I know.”

“You don't seem broken up about it.”

Kenneth cradled the rifle. “I'm not. Allen barely tolerated me. He was part of the reason I left San Francisco and came up here. I needed to get away.” Kenneth indicated a log. “Why don't we have a seat? I have a few things to say to you, and I imagine you have a few questions.”

“More than a few,” Fargo admitted.

“My friends will keep watch and see that we're not disturbed.” Kenneth addressed the Nlaka'pamux in their own tongue and they moved off as silently as they had appeared.

Fargo eased down, shaking in head in amazement. “I can't get over this. You. Here. And dressed like that.”

“The reason is simple, really. But it will take some explaining.” Kenneth sat facing him. “Have you ever been in love, Mr. Fargo?”

“Maybe you better start at the beginning.”

“Where would that be? With my family? By now you must know how they are. What they are like.”

“They don't get along very well.”

“That's putting it much too nicely. My mother was always a shrew, but she became worse once father hired Cosmo, and one thing led to another.”

“Your mother hates him.”

“Does she ever. But she only has herself to blame. If she had been nicer to Father, if she hadn't been such a cold fish, maybe Father would have stayed true to her. Frankly, I'm surprised she never filed for divorce. But then, she's much too fond of money and her creature comforts.” Kenneth sighed. “Their situation is another reason I left.”

“And your sister?”

“Angeline and I always got along really well. She's a good woman at heart, but if she stays in that household, the hate and the ugliness will taint her.”

Fargo gestured at Kenneth's buckskins and hair. “And you?”

“I'm coming to that. I needed to get away but had no idea where to go. The gold rush was in all the newspapers, and practically everyone I knew was coming up here to try to strike it rich. I figured, why not? The adventure appealed to me, and, well—” Kenneth shrugged. “Here I am.”

“You came for gold and wound up a Nlaka'pamux?”

Kenneth laughed. “They've adopted me into their tribe. Except for the few who are always out to spill white blood, they are as fine a people as any anywhere.”

“A lot of whites don't see them that way.”

“And that's part of the problem I faced.” Kenneth stopped and gazed down the mountain. “So much hate. Everywhere I go, hate, hate, hate. When I got here I wanted no part of it and kept to myself. I did make a few friends.”

A keg of black powder exploded in Fargo's head. “Hermit is one of them?”

“Yes. A fine man, if a bit eccentric. I asked him to bring my sister to me, but she wouldn't come.”

“That was partly my fault. He wouldn't say why.”

“I asked him not to. I didn't want anyone but Angeline to know I was alive. Father and Mother and Allen would never understand.”

“About you going Indian?”

“About me falling in love with a beautiful woman who happens to be a Nlaka'pamux. In our language her name translates as Morning Sun.” Kenneth's features softened and a warm glow came into his eyes. “I wish you could meet her. Then you would understand. She is the gentlest of souls. So kind and so caring. There isn't a shred of hate in her entire being.”

Fargo sat back. At last it all made sense.

“I was out hunting one day and I ran into her. She was setting snares to catch rabbits. She knew a little English, and we talked. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was hopelessly in love.” Kenneth paused. “The wonder of it is, she fell in love with me, too.”

“You took her for your wife?”

“Not in a church, no. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't. There's too much hate. Any white who acts the least bit friendly toward the Knife Indians is looked down on, spit on, beaten up.” Kenneth sighed. “Since she couldn't come and live with me, I went and lived with her. I took up their ways. I married her as they would. I became what you see sitting here before you: a white Nlaka'pamux.”

“You've been following us for days, I take it?”

“Since before you reached Yale.”

“But how did you find out your family was here looking for you?”

“Teit.”

Fargo almost slapped his own forehead. “Damn, I can be dumb.”

“She's a good friend. Morning Sun and she grew up together. She brought her grandfather to our lodge and told us about my parents and about you.”

More pieces of the puzzle fit together, but there were a few Fargo was missing. “Did you have anything to do with Strath and Santee?”

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

Kenneth shifted and placed the rifle across his legs. “I'm taking a chance telling you all this. Teit said she likes you, that you are a man who can be trusted. So I'm trusting you not to tell my father and mother you spoke to me.”

“You don't want them to know you're alive?”

“No. Father would try to take me back. He'd do all in his power to ruin my marriage to Morning Sun.”

Fargo could see that happening.

“It's my sister I'd like to talk to. If only for a little while. To assure her I'm well and happy and never want to go back.” Kenneth looked at him. “That's where you come in. I'm hoping you'll arrange things so I can meet with her in private.”

“When and where?”

“I'll leave that up to you.”

“Tonight.” Fargo figured there was no reason to wait. “I'll bring her up here after everyone is asleep.”

Kenneth nodded. “That should be safe. But I warn you. Don't let my father or mother or Cosmo get wind of what you are up to. Especially Cosmo.”

“Why him most of all?”

“He's a monster, that one. He's taken over my father and he's tried to take over my father's finances, as well. I've no doubt he would have succeed by now if not for Mother, who has fought him tooth and nail. I sided with her against him and he's resented me for it ever since. I daresay he was delighted when I left home. One less obstacle for him to deal with.”

Kenneth stood, and Fargo followed suit.

“Be very careful. I don't want anything to happen to my sister.” Kenneth smiled wryly. “I'm doing her a favor and she doesn't even realize it.”

“How so?”

“With my brother dead and me pretending to be, my sister stands to inherit a full third of my father's wealth.”

“Only a third?”

“There's my mother. And there is Cosmo.”

Fargo let that sink in before he said, “You don't care that you won't get any of the inheritance?”

Kenneth shook his head. “All I care about is Morning Sun. I'm happy with her and with her people. They've accepted me as one of their own.” He paused. “If there's one thing I've learned living with my father and mother, it's that money doesn't bring happiness. You can have all the money in the world and be miserable.”

“I wouldn't mind having a million or so,” Fargo joked.

“What would you do with it? For that matter, what would I do with it? Live in a mansion and have servants wait on me hand and foot? Wear only the finest clothes and eat only at the finest restaurants? Where's the joy in that?”

“It would make some folks happy.”

“Morning Sun is my happiness. She and I have no need for that much money. We live simply: simple needs, simple passions. I like it that way. I like it more than I've ever liked anything.”