Sing The Death Song: Dutch Wilde & Bright Feather Western Adventure (Half Breed Haven Book 6)

by A. M. Van Dorn

  “It is you who are wonderful. You all are,” She turned to Bright Feather next to her. “I can see why you embrace this family so much. Congratulations on your award. It is a great honor.”

  “It is. My work with Dutch and Fort McCallister has been a blessing, Miss San Cristobel. To do something that is good and be with the man I love every day. There is not much more I could ask for,” Bright Feather said and Dutch smiled at her.

  “Dutch, don’t you know a cue when to give a woman a kiss?” Catalina said, winking. I sure do! She also thought to herself.

  “Peppercorn, he is an officer and must keep up appearances,” Whip said with a smile to his youngest daughter.

  “Bright Feather, may I ask how you came to be in your position?” Marisol asked, saving Dutch from giving a rather silly excuse.

  “Absolutely, it is quite a story,” Bright Feather said.

  “I’ll say it is,” Dutch chimed in.

  “It was not long after I had returned to Arizona that Dutch and I fell in love,” Bright Feather explained, often throwing passionate glances at her heartthrob. “We’d spent a few days at Cedar Ledge, the four of us, Dutch, myself, Catalina, and Blue River my brother. We were having a wonderful time, but Dutch had to be back to his post soon because Fort McCallister was preparing for a big peace conference among four Apache tribes. He was going to escort me back to my village, and Blue River was coming along too. I remember along the way we …”

  For some reason, Bright Feather paused and glanced around the table. Lijuan had her arms crossed and was scowling at her.

  “… rested our horses while Blue River went hunting by a nearby butte,” she, however, managed to begin her story, successfully refraining from retorting to the scowl that Lijuan threw her way.

  CHAPTER 19

  * * *

  June 1868

  It was high noon and the blazing Arizona sun went about its business. However, in the hill country adjoining a sweeping plain, thanks to the shade from the various trees in the woods, everywhere felt cool, few of the yellow rays of the sun slipping through the shades of the thick leaves. As the warm, brilliant light beamed down from on high, underneath the tree, where Dutch and Bright Feather lay in each other’s arms, the light was dim and magical. Dots of green, orange, and yellow spotted everywhere while the breeze blew softly, complementing the day and making their just-finished lovemaking quite an exhilarating feat. They were lying next to each other on a bedroll now, both reluctant to let go of each other.

  Bright Feather felt relaxed and happy, contented to lay naked with her lover comfortably. Dutch felt the same way but knew they had to get moving. He sat up and was in the process of handing to her the woman's little buckskin dress when he hesitated. He could not help admiring his lover's body. She was tanned, smooth-skinned, with toned muscles.

  “What are you looking at?” She asked with a laugh.

  "A gift from that Great Spirit you are always talking about. Amidst all these natural wonders … none can compare to you," He told her honestly, but then handed her the dress, pulling it away as a joke at the last second. They laughed, and then he gave it to her for real and started to get dressed.

  “I wish we could have stayed at Cedar Ledge longer. Catalina is such a delight,” Bright Feather said with a smile and a giggle.

  "My baby sister, I know what you mean. I don't think I've ever known anyone as fun-loving as my little Cattie," He said pulling on his britches and then his boots.

  "And your father … he is such a kind gentleman. It is easy to see why my mother fell in love with him so many moons ago," she said.

  “It is a sad thing it couldn’t have worked out for them,” Dutch admitted as he pulled on his shirt. Bright Feather was almost dressed as well, though she scowled thoughtfully.

  “My tribe was never going to let it happen. Especially my uncle Black Hawk. The dark evil he spreads, it is like nothing else this land has ever known.”

  “No argument there. This whole peace conference wouldn’t be necessary but for him luring those two tribes into a cross-tribal alliance. He got the Yavapai and the Apaches together for his war on the white man only to betray the Apaches for his own needs. With that alliance over, the Apaches took to fighting amongst themselves thus, we have the raging tribal warfare we have today,” Dutch said.

  “Perhaps peace will indeed come to this land. All four tribes are tired of the losses. It is good to have them agree to meet on the neutral ground by your fort and allow your unit to help broker the peace. If the hand of the Great Spirit can guide the proceedings, there is hope,” she said fervently.

  “Well, I guess I will find out the day after tomorrow. The council of tribes is due to start today. Colonel Caine and Lieutenant Vellaneau are running the operation, and it should be well underway by the time I return there,” he said.

  “We should probably ride for my village soon,” she said regretfully, as she was fully dressed now and walked over with Dutch to their horses. He untied her horse for her before helping her to mount it. She didn’t need his help but was pleased he wanted to.

  “That we should, we need to collect Blue River along the way,” he said now, replying to her previous statement.

  “You know, I’ve really wanted to break in my new steed here. What do you say to a race to the butte?” he asked her after mounting his horse and began to ride it beside hers. She smiled and raised an eyebrow.

  “What are the stakes, Dutch?” she asked.

  “The loser has to do whatever the winner wants the next time we …”

  Bright Feather didn’t allow him to finish. She laughed and dug in her heels.

  “Let’s go!” she shouted as her horse shot forward like an arrow from a bow.

  They began a race to the butte where Blue River was hunting. Bright Feather laughed happily, enjoying the companionship of the wonderful man. She bent down low over her horse’s neck, urging the girl forward faster as they wove through the trees. She saw a log across the trail and got herself ready, and as they jumped over, it felt like she was flying. She loved jumping horses. As they landed, she turned the animal to the right to go across country and away from the trail. He shouted a laugh from behind and looking back, she could see him closing in fast. He had no problem leaving the trail either.

  She turned back forward and urged her animal faster. She wove around the scrub brush, and her moccasins scraped a few of them as they cut it close. The sound of the hoof beats was like an amazing drum beat from her tribe’s shaman. She sank into the sound and movement of her filly. Dutch came alongside once, but she managed to make it around a clump of bushes faster than he did and then over a big log and she pulled ahead. Just as they reached the ridgeline she saw something and pulled up sharply. It put her horse back on its heels.

  “Rein in! Don’t question, please! Stop fast,” she called out and Dutch reined his horse in next to hers.

  “What’s wrong, Bright Feather? I must admit it looks like you and White Lightning were beating me and Thunderbolt to the butte,” Dutch said.

  “Look there and you’ll see why I stopped,” she returned pointing.

  For a few seconds, his eyes following the direction of her finger, Dutch only frowned, seeing nothing that could have gotten her to suddenly halt a race that she had almost won. Soon, his eyes widened a little, a soft sigh escaping his lips. They had raced to a higher land in the woods and were still surrounded by tall trees and boulders. Just beneath them, in a clearing, Dutch could see a gathering of Apaches. It would have been a mistake to ride into the middle of them.

  “It looks like you just saved us from riding into a pack of braves all decked out in their war paint. You have my eternal gratitude for this one,” he told her with some vigor.

  “Let’s dismount here and keep out of sight to see what they are up to. I’m not hankering for trouble. I’ve had my fill of fighting for a while,” Dutch said.

  “Dutch … that is the first time since we’ve been together that you’ve spo
ken of your involvement in that terrible war between your states,” Bright Feather said softly, dismounting.

  “It’s a time in my life I’d like to cut out as if it never happened. That war buried a part of my soul, probably forever,” he said. She leaned in to touch him, but her horse started to whinny and she pinched its nostrils to keep the noise down.

  “You had better do the same with Thunderbolt so he can’t whinny to those braves’ ponies,” she said wisely. He did and she watched as the braves in the clearing were racing their ponies around in a wide circle. They were shouting and whooping to encourage the horses. Bright Feather frowned.

  “What in the blue blazes are they up to anyway?” Dutch asked concerned.

  “Getting ready for a fight. Braves like to race their ponies before a battle so they can go into it with their horses getting their second wind!” She responded morosely.

  Dutch surely had his attention divided at the moment. He nodded at her words but his gaze tarried on the view beneath them. He glanced around next, scanning the various points in the distance before noticing something that got his attention.

  “Over there,” she heard him whisper, “across the plains beyond those black hills. Those aren’t clouds, but smoke signals! What do they mean?” he asked her.

  Bright Feather had watched him stare into the distance long enough to have found the smoke curling skyward from various hills in the distance. She nodded and pointed to each of the moving smoke rings as she explained.

  “Four different tribes are raising that smoke. They are declaring the peace grounds so they can council there,” she informed him. “Yet we have those braves down there in war paint. Those Apache are from the Chiricahua tribe.”

  “The Chiricahua! Those are one of the two tribes, who until recently, were aligned with Black Hawk and his Omegas,” Dutch murmured, his voice taking on a fatalistic ring to it.

  "Yes, Black Hawk … my uncle … who brings shame to the Yavapai people with his actions," Bright Feather agreed. "The only greater shame is my own that we share the same blood. Dutch, that shame burns brightly in my veins, to my very heart!" she said, looking down, embarrassed. She heard Dutch drawing Thunderbolt nearer to her and felt his hand touch her chin and lift her face to gaze at him.

  "The shame is all his. His actions are his own and do not reflect back on the woman I see sitting there before me," he said and then leaned in to kiss her. She accepted it gratefully. After a moment, they broke apart.

  "We have to get back to alert Fort McCallister that there is some type of trouble brewing that could threaten the peace conference," he said afterward, and she agreed once more.

  Carefully, they walked the horses around the bend in the trail heading off away from the braves racing their horses. As they mounted up, though, they heard a shout and looking back they could see they had been spotted. Two braves were giving chase already. They took off full speed, each uttering no words. Bright Feather fervently hoped their own horses had gotten a second wind, or they were in trouble. She bent down low over her horse’s neck, and the mustang stretched out into the run.

  “Come on, girl, come on!” she called into her horse’s ear. Dutch was riding right next to her as they wove between some large boulders, racing as if their lives depended on it. As far as Dutch could tell, they did.

  CHAPTER 20

  * * *

  “It is going to be hard to get back to the Fort with a full head of hair!” Dutch exclaimed, drawing a pistol and looking back over his shoulder.

  They had been pursued for a long stretch, and the two horses behind them were slowly gaining. Bright Feather knew what Dutch meant. The pursuing Indians were right there with them, and it was beyond just escaping them anymore. He took a shot at them now, and to their surprise, he seemed to hit the tomahawk that a brave had raised to strike. The brave lost control of his horse and it plowed into the other horse, distracting him long enough for Dutch to suddenly leap out of his saddle and tackle the second rider off his horse.

  Bright Feather had no intention of just watching. She had her gun drawn and heard shots at the same time, coming from ahead of them. It was her young brother! She saw him racing straight at them, standing tall in his saddle with his rifle firing. She realized he had been the one to shoot the tomahawk. Encouraged beyond measure now, she turned her horse roughly and began firing herself, chasing the remaining Indian back while Dutch struggled to subdue the man he had tackled off the horse.

  “Look at them run!” Bright Feather laughed as their pursuers retreated immediately.

  “I haven’t seen anyone move that fast since Catalina heard the traveling circus was coming to town and she just had to see those, Ele, ele … the beasts with the long trunks,” Blue River said, laughing too.

  “Elephants. Dutch, are you alright?” Bright Feather asked her love who had just finished subduing the brave on the ground. He was holding his gun on him. The man he had captured was a big brave with dark brown eyes and long black hair in braids.

  “I am doing okay. Thanks, Blue River. Arriving from your hunt now could not have been better timed. You saved me by taking out that brave’s tomahawk. Nice shot!” Dutch told him cheerfully.

  “Glad you liked it. Perhaps I won’t mention I was aiming elsewhere, brother. What of this one?” He asked gesturing at the prisoner. He was also grinning happily, his piercing blue eyes brightening with delight at the appreciation Dutch had just thrown at him. The teen flexed his muscular shoulders and arms as he neared Dutch and the prisoner, his young face reeling with curiosity as to the fate of the prisoner.

  “It seems this fellow will be a guest back at the fort. He’s got some explaining to do,” Dutch finally said grimly, replying him.

  Blue River nodded mutely, quickly assisting Dutch to capture the fallen brave’s horse and tie him to it before they all headed back to the Fort.

  ***

  They had already covered much ground while being pursued, so it only took a short while to get to the entrance of the fort. Soon, they were riding through the gates, an odd set having an Indian brave tied to a horse that rode beside them.

  The fort buzzed with its usual busy activities as they rode into it. Horses were being cared for off to the right of the open area, while crates of supplies were stacked along the side of the mess hall. There was a very busy small trading post too, buyers haggling back and forth with stubborn ware owners who smiled happily, considering that they were about to reap great profits where demand far outnumbered supply. Troop members were loitering around the barracks, taking their free time seriously because they rarely got any when on duty.

  “Lieutenant Wilde, I wasn’t expecting you to be back until morning,” Dutch heard and looked to the command building to find Col. Caine walking towards him. Lt. Vellaneau was also striding along next to him. Caine was a tall silver-haired man chomping a cigar, with some smoke trailing his head. Lt. Vellaneau was a strong man, handsome with dark hair and blue eyes.

  “Circumstances led me to change my plans to escort my brother and his sister back to their tribe’s camp, Colonel Caine. I believe you have met my brother before, and this is his sister, Bright Feather,” Dutch said in introduction. The colonel tipped his hat.

  “Ma’am,” he said in greeting.

  Lt. Vellaneau, surprisingly, did not tip his hat and stood with his arms crossed as they dismounted. “Does that make her your sister, too? I remember back at West Point everyone used to joke about how you got one of every stripe, Lieutenant Wilde,” he said instead.

  Dutch knew full well that Lt. Vellaneau was a former Confederate soldier who had returned to service as a Union officer after the Civil War. His attitude could only be so obvious. Dutch clenched his jaw and then relaxed it with a deep breath.

  “No, Lieutenant. Bright Feather’s mother was widowed before she met my father. She is from that first union,” Dutch responded mildly.

  The lieutenant eyed Bright Feather appraisingly afterward, his eyes running over her snug little bucks
kin dress. The way it hugged her blossoming voluptuous frame and her bare legs was an obvious attraction to the rude officer.

  “Mighty fine for an injun,” The officer commented with a slight leer. Dutch flushed, but Caine spoke up before he could do anything else.

  “What do we have here?” He asked pointing to the captive Indian.

  “He is a problem, Colonel Caine. Here is one brave that’s decided to come to the peace council in war paint. Other than saying his name, Stalking Wolf, he hasn’t said a thing. Maybe we can get him to talk if we try again. Bright Feather?” Dutch asked the young woman.

  “Whoa now, she speaks his language? She is one of his tribe?” Lt. Vellaneau asked severely.

  “No. My sister has just returned from spending the last seven years traveling the Southwest, visiting every tribe she could find. She mastered all their languages,” Blue River said in his sister’s defense and with pride.

  “Why? Why would this injun do that?” The lieutenant asked rather condescendingly.

  Bright Feather stepped forward now, slightly irritated. “The Great Spirit has gifted everyone their own passions and interests,” she said. “Language has always been mine. As a child, my mother and father traveled extensively as traders for our tribe. That is when I first realized my love for the spoken word,” she told the officer with dignity.

  “I’ll say this for ya, injun,” Lt. Vellaneau raised his hand dismissively. “You sure speak a hundred times better than the slaves that used to work on my daddy’s plantation. With a few exceptions like that Douglass feller and that crafty Tubman woman, the majority of them darkies are some of the most ignorant people ever placed on God’s green earth,” he said.

  Dutch clenched his fists and took a step forward, but Blue River quickly stepped between them.

  “Brother, no!” he said.

  “But Honor Elizabeth …” Dutch began.