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Authors: Susan Edwards

White Wolf (34 page)

BOOK: White Wolf
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Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jordan and Jeremy approaching. Head held high, she showed them her back and set off for the fort. She heard her name called but ignored it and
tamped down her feelings of guilt. She knew Rook was right: her brothers did love her, had done what they’d thought best. She realized she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at them much longer. Though her anger had faded, she wasn’t quite ready to let them off the hook. They needed to learn their lesson too. She’d gone only a few paces from the wagons when Alison ran up to her,

“Where you going, Jessie? Can I go too? Please?”

Jessie stopped and bent down. “I’m going to visit the fort, Alison. How about if I take you for a ride when I get back? I’m walking, and it’s a long way there and back.”

“But Jessie, I’m bored. Lara and Ian are asleep, and mama is visiting. There’s nobody to play with. Hanna and Kerstin are with the horses. I can walk. I’m a good walker. Please?”

Jessie shook her head. How could she say no to that earnest, pleading face? When her gaze fell to Alison’s bare feet, an idea came to her. The child’s birthday was in a few days. She would take her to the fort and purchase a pair of shoes for her. “All right. But we have to ask your ma first, and you have to promise to stay with me and be good.”

“I will,” Alison promised, reaching up to take Jessie’s hand.

As they passed the Nortons’ wagon, a low growl made Jessie turn around. Sadie had followed them and stood, hackles raised, teeth bared at Rosalyn.

“Call off the dog, Jessie, or so help me, I’ll shoot it,” Rosalyn warned, her voice rising.

Alison stepped forward, filled with all the righteous anger that a four-year-old could muster. “You can’t shoot her. She’s nice and you’re mean.”

Rook, hearing the commotion, popped out. “What’s goin’ on?”

Jessie sighed. “Sadie’s showing her good taste in judgment again.” Jessie waved at the dog. “Better tie her up for a bit, Rook. Never know what kind of varmint she might get it into her head to hunt.” Jessie smirked when Rosalyn marched off in a huff.

Rook’s lips twitched, but he grabbed Sadie by the scruff of her neck. “And what are ya up ta, li’l lass?” he asked Alison.

Alison jumped up and down. “Me and Jessie are gonna go see the fort.”

Jessie watched Rosalyn stalk away, then turned to caution the little girl. “Only if your mom says it’s okay. Now, let’s go ask her. Thanks, Rook.”

He muttered something, stuck his unlit pipe between his lips and dragged Sadie to the wagons. Eager to go, Alison pulled Jessie over to where Eirica and Anne were sitting. Jessie knew she wouldn’t get much thinking done, but she didn’t really mind. She enjoyed Alison.

When Alison bestowed the same soulful pleas on her mother, Jessie and Anne exchanged amused looks. Eirica glanced at Jessie. “Are you sure you want to take her?” she asked.

Jessie laughed and glanced down into the little girl’s wide, anxious gaze. “I’m sure. We’ll have fun. Ali’s never been to a fort before. She’ll learn lots of new things, right, pumpkin?”

Alison nodded, her eyes bright and pleading.

Eirica wrinkled her nose and smoothed her daughter’s hair. “You be a good girl. Do as Jessie tells you and stay close. No wandering off.”

“Yes, Mama!” she said.

“Well, then, perhaps I will go lie down for a bit.” Eirica kissed her daughter goodbye and headed for her tent.

Jessie took Alison by the hand, and together they skipped toward the fort.

“She’s still huffed at us,” Jordan said glumly. “And Corie’s still mad at me too.”

“Yeah, Jess is riled as a rattler.” Not to mention that Eirica wasn’t speaking with him either.
Women! Try to help them and they turn on you.
James flexed his shoulders and stared at his brothers.

Jeremy took off his hat, slapped it against his thigh and faced his brothers with his hands on his hips. “Well, what did ya expect? You piled on the agony between her and Wolf. They both got more pride than a dog has fleas. Did you really think forcing them to marry would make everything all right? I told ya she’d be downright angry.”

James stared at Jeremy. Jeremy had been against the forced marriage, had been the only one of them confident that Jessie could deal with Wolf on her own. He exhaled loudly, wishing he’d listened to his youngest brother. Damn, when had Jeremy grown up and become so wise? He felt old and foolish suddenly. Soon his siblings wouldn’t need him. Digging his hands deeper into his pockets, he kicked Jordan to get his attention. “Jeremy’s right. We owe her an apology. She knows her own mind. We ain’t got no right to make her decisions.” Glum silence met his pronouncement. Then a new voice brought them out of their contemplations.

“Glad to hear you boys have finally figured that out.”

James turned to find Wolf standing behind them. He grimaced and opened his mouth to apologize, but Wolf held up a hand, forestalling him.

“Save it. I’m taking my wife away for a couple of days.” Wolf speared each of them with a hard look. “While I’m gone, check the cattle. Cull out the ones going lame or showing signs of weakness, and we’ll sell them to the fort. The horses also need shoeing, and we need to stock up on grain.” Wolf strode away from the silent and subdued brothers.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Mormon Trail merged with the Oregon Trail at Fort Laramie. The sudden mass of humanity resulted in dust, confusion and noise. Jessie glanced over her shoulder, awed by the long lines of wagons. Their white-topped canvases made a picture of white stripes fluttering across the golden land. Holding tight to Alison, Jessie wove a path around wagons and tents, wandering through throngs of people and oxen in order to reach the fort.

“What are those, Jessie?”

Jessie grinned. “Those, my sweet, are tipis. They are like our tents. That’s where the Indians live. Remember the ones who came to our camp last night?”

Alison nodded. “Can we go look?”

“We’ll see,” she said, and led Alison into the fort with its fifteen-foot-high whitewashed adobe walls topped with a wooden palisade. Towerlike bastions stood at the south and north corners, and a blockhouse had been erected over the main gate. The interior of the quadrangular structure was divided: the corral on one side, and opposite, a large square area surrounded by storerooms, offices and apartments.

Jessie eyed the women and soldiers standing in the doorways of the buildings. She assumed the neatly clad women who wore white gloves were wives of the soldiers, and had learned from Rook that many of the Indian women parading around in calico skirts were hired to do the laundry. Against one of the adobe walls, trappers, dressed in buckskins with full beards and long scraggly hair, smoked and drank, whistled and made crude comments to the Indian women. She led Alison away. Laundry apparently wasn’t the only service these women performed.

Alison tugged on her arm, her eyes wide. The little girl’s head swiveled from one sight to another. “Jessie, there’s soldiers with guns an’ everything.” She squealed. “What are they doin’ way up there?” She pointed to the roofs of the buildings.

Jessie knelt and hugged Alison, loving the wide wonder that filled her eyes. “I expect they’re on guard duty.” Jessie glanced over her shoulder. The backs of the buildings butted up against the adobe walls, which allowed the roofs to serve the dual purpose of being a banquette as well. Though the sights intrigued and fascinated her, much of it was the same as at Fort Kearny: soldiers, people, animals and most of all, all-out confusion. But watching the little girl take it all in lent a freshness to it. “How about if we go find the store?”

Alison nodded and skipped happily alongside Jessie. Loud laughter and raised voices came from one building. It didn’t take more than a peek through the door to see that it was likely the enlisted men’s bar. Jessie stopped and scanned the area. When she spotted a doorway with women coming and going, she headed for it. Sure enough, it was the sutler’s store. “Here we go. Let’s go see what they have inside.” The interior was crowded with people and merchandise. The shelves were laden, but when she saw the price of coffee, she was shocked. The cost was at least four times higher than back home.

Leading the little girl, she moved to the bolts of cloth and the shelf of shoes. To her disappointment, there weren’t any shoes small enough for Alison. “Drat,” she muttered.
Now what?
She’d really wanted the little girl to have a new pair. Then she remembered the Indians who’d come to their camp last night. Maybe she could purchase a pair of moccasins—not only for Alison, but for the other two as well. With that in mind Jessie turned to leave, but found her exit blocked by those who were lined up at the counter, piles of purchases sitting before them. She and Alison were well and truly hemmed in. She stooped and lifted Alison into her arms, afraid the girl would get stepped on.

“Is that…” The little girl in her arms was pointing to something, but Jessie just wanted to escape the crowded environs.

“Hang in there, Alison girl. We’ll get out of here right quick.” Jessie watched and waited for an opportunity to snake a path through.

“I tell ya, the bitch is a cold-blooded murderer, and I aim to take her in and see her hanged for her crime.”

At the sound of the loud voice, Jessie glanced to her right and saw a large, well-dressed man speaking to an aproned man at the counter. Stuck as she was, she unashamedly listened.

“Name is Vern Portier. I’m sheriff of a small town near St. Louis. This here’s a sketch of the woman I’m looking for. We learned she’s traveling to Oregon with her brother and maybe another man. The trio robbed a stagecoach a while back and then killed my baby brother. Poor boy had the unfortunate luck to be this woman’s husband.”

The stranger went on about the crime and how his brother had fallen for the woman’s deadly charms. Jessie glanced away, concerned that such talk might upset Alison. She scouted the crowd in front of her and saw a large group of emigrants move forward, then stop when a new wave of visitors rushed through the open door. She tapped her foot impatiently. Still stuck, Jessie tuned back into the conversation of the two men.

“…name is Daisy, and this here’s her brother, Dan Tupper. Don’t know this one’s name—just a drifter, from all accounts. But Daisy here should be real easy to spot. Gal’s a real looker, with blond hair and brown eyes. Have you seen her?”

“Gee, I dunno. We see lots of women in here every day. Can’t say as I seen her or not.”

The sheriff, tall as a mountain, turned and nearly jammed his elbow into Jessie’s nose.

“’Scuse me, ma’am,” he said before snapping his fingers and turning back to the harried clerk.

“Wait, here’s one thing. Woman’s conceited as they come ’bout her looks but has this one flaw. She has a gap between her two upper front teeth and they stick out somewhat. She hates it.”

Jessie could tell from his voice that he was pleased to impart his sister-in-law’s flaw. Then her brows drew together. Rosalyn had a gap between her teeth. With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, she chided herself. Much as she disliked the woman, crooked teeth did not make her a murderer. Besides, her hair was short and black. She grew still. Or was it? Was Rosalyn’s hair really black? She recalled seeing pale roots the day she’d used her whip to chase Rosalyn away from Wolf. Was it true?

“Here’s another poster, if you could post it behind you. I’m going to go have a drink. I’ll check back later.”

The man named Vern turned and squeezed past Jessie. She noticed the badge pinned to his shirt, but by the time she opened her mouth to call him back, he was gone. Slipping to the counter to get a look at the poster, she ignored the angry voices protesting behind her. The poster was gone, and the man working behind the counter was helping someone farther down. She left, shoving her way outside with Alison in her arms, ignoring the grumbling in her wake. Her mind raced furiously. Rosalyn had money. Lots of it. Could she be the Daisy the sheriff was after? Only one way to find out. She quickened her steps. She had to find that lawman.

“Where are we goin’ now, Jessie?” Alison wiggled to be put down. “I thought I saw…”

“Hush, Alison.” Jessie stopped, her mind a whirl. She’d forgotten about the child in her arms. She didn’t dare take her into a saloon! She set the girl down and grabbed her hand. “To the post office.”

Jessie tried to hurry back to camp, but was slowed by having to carry Alison. The four-year-old had grown tired. Damn, why hadn’t she brought Shilo? After studying the poster in the post
office, she was positive that Rosalyn was none other than Daisy Portier, and Hugh was her brother, Dan Tupper. It explained so much—like why she and Hugh didn’t act like a husband and wife. Also, she now knew why the three of them had so much money, and why they’d been ready to flee the night of the buffalo stampede.

As soon as she delivered Alison back to her mother, she’d go find Wolf. He’d know what to do. Jessie stopped to survey the landscape. Perhaps she should go straight to him now. James could take the little girl back to her mother. “Okay, Ali, you need to walk for a little while.”

“Aw, Jessie, I’m tired,” Alison whined.

Jessie knelt down, setting the girl on her feet. “Let’s go see James and the cattle. He’s closer to us than the wagons, and I’ll bet he’ll give you a ride back. But we have to hurry or we’ll miss him.”

Alison squealed in delight and skipped ahead, her fatigue gone at the prospect of new excitement. Jessie quickened her pace, her gaze on the cattle in the distance. A sharp bark drew her attention. Sadie ran up to her, the rope lead trailing behind her. “Sadie, you bad girl,” she scolded. She was so intent on untying the rope attached to the dog’s collar, she didn’t hear the approaching horses until Sadie growled and tried to break away.

“Going somewhere, Jessica?” It was Rosalyn—or Daisy, as she was truly named. The woman was leaning over her saddle horn.

Jessie backed up a step and schooled her features into a mask of disinterest as she eyed the threesome. Why were they here? Did they know what she’d discovered? If so, how? Tipping her hat back, she lifted a brow and sent the woman a look of disdain.

“Just taking Alison out to see the cows. James promised he’d let her ride herd with him this afternoon.” She prayed they would believe James was expecting them. Swinging her head around, she noted with dismay how far ahead Alison was.

“Well, I’d better go catch up with her.” Daisy kicked her horse and blocked Jessie’s escape. Gulping back her fear, Jessie decided to make a run for it. If she ran in the opposite direction Alison had taken, it would leave the little girl free to go to James. There was little chance of her getting lost; the large herd was clearly visible in the distance. Sprinting forward, she didn’t get more than a few feet before Dan brought his horse around and Sammy angled his to the side. Daisy blocked the rear. Sadie growled and barked.

“Don’t think so, Jessica.” Daisy aimed her revolver at her. “Drop the whip and your knife and hold on to that mutt real good or I’ll shoot it.”

Jessie did as she was told.

“Now, don’t be so quick to run off. Looks like we’ve got some unfinished business to see to. And don’t worry none about the little brat. We’ll fetch her for you, won’t we, Sammy? After all, wouldn’t want her to get lost or fall and hurt herself.” Daisy nodded to Sammy, who took off after Alison. She then turned her attention back to Jessie, her eyes filled with malicious glee. “When he gets back, we’re all going for a nice little ride.”

Jessie swallowed her fear and tried to brazen her way out. “What do you mean, your brother? I thought he’s—”

Daisy slid down from her horse and advanced but Sadie lunged and grabbed a mouthful of skirt in her teeth before Daisy jumped back. “That dog bites me, she’s dead—and you, don’t try my patience,” she warned. “Dan saw you at the fort. You know the truth, and that means I can’t let you go blabbing. You and the girl are coming with us. A little insurance, if you will.”

Jessie pulled Sadie close. Sammy rode up with Alison struggling in his arms. His filthy hand was clamped over her mouth to keep her from screaming. Jessie glared first at Sammy, then at Daisy. “Give her to me. If you hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”

“Shut up, girl. You aren’t in any position to make threats. What I say goes, and don’t you forget it, unless you want to see the brat hurt.”

Jessie’s shoulders slumped. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”

Daisy sneered and remounted. “Do you really take me for a such a fool? Without the brat, there’s nothing to stop you from raising hell and attracting the attention of the soldiers. She goes, and you’re gonna tell her we’re playing a nice little game and that she’d better be good. Now tell her to keep quiet!”

Jessie stared into Alison’s fearful eyes. Tears streamed down the child’s cheeks. It made her furious, but she kept her anger under tight control and silently vowed to make them pay for frightening an innocent little girl. She went to Alison and squeezed her knee. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll play their game and do what they say, and pretty soon you’ll be back with your mama. Okay?” When Alison nodded, Sammy carefully removed his hand.

Daisy interrupted. “Let’s get the hell outta here. Too many people lookin’ this way.”

“I want Jessie.” Alison whimpered, holding out her hands.

“Stay away, Jessie,” Daisy warned, grabbing Alison from Sammy. She pointed at an old wagon tongue lying buried in the tall grass. “Tie the dog, and don’t try anything cute or the brat gets it.” She held her palm out so Jessie could see the small knife hidden there.

Jessie had no choice, but there was one thing she could try to do. She tied Sadie, and with her back to Daisy, she pulled out the folded poster she’d taken from the post office to show Wolf. Carefully she tucked it beneath the dog’s collar, smoothing the long fur over it. Then she allowed Dan to pull her up in front of him on his saddle. He bound her wrists to the saddle horn, then slipped a scratchy poncho over her head to hide her bound wrists. “Sorry, kid,” he muttered. He looked somewhat apologetic.

Daisy nodded with satisfaction, then turned to the crying girl in her arms. “Listen to me, little girl. We’re going to play a game now. You like games, don’t you?”

Alison stuck her fingers in her mouth, her tear-filled eyes never leaving Jessie.

“We’re going to go for a little ride. The rules are simple. You can’t cry or make any noise or Jessie loses. You want Jessie to win, don’t you?”

Alison didn’t answer.

Jessie saw that Daisy was losing patience. She spoke softly, but her gaze never left the other woman’s. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. Do what she says. We’ll win this game. The good guys always win.”

Daisy laughed. “You got grit, Jessie. You know, if the circumstances were different, I might have found myself liking you. It’s just too bad you won’t be around that long.” With that, Daisy led the group toward the Laramie Range.

Behind them, Sadie barked, straining at the rope.

BOOK: White Wolf
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