She laughed. “Why, Chogan, you are positively evil.”
“We should not enjoy your brother’s discomfort,” he admonished, realizing it was as much for himself as it was for her.
“Maybe not.”
They glanced at each other and chuckled. Feeling better now that the passengers were coming off the train, Chogan led her to the line of people ready to get on. Good. In a matter of minutes, they would be on the train and heading back home. He was never so glad to be getting out of Bismarck. Slipping his arm around her waist, he gave her a quick squeeze before the conductor called out for them to get on the train.
~~********~~
Chapter 30
A week later, Julia dug another hole into the soil and dropped a seed into the ground. She smoothed the dirt over it and sat back so she could wipe the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. She glanced at Chogan’s female relatives who also tended to the planting and considered they might be smart to wear deerskin dresses that reached just below their knees. Julia could roll her sleeves up, but her long skirt was the item of clothing that made her work more difficult.
She bit her lower lip and tried to decide if she dared to wear so little clothing. Sure, no one in the tribe thought anything of it. In the winter, the women wore leggings to cover themselves up, but with the warmer weather, they had removed those and Julia felt like the only modestly dressed person in the area.
Even the men thought nothing of wearing a shirt that was more like a vest…if they even wore a shirt at all. And the breechcloths barely covered the rest of them. She much preferred the cold weather which made everyone cover themselves up. She should have remembered they dressed this way in the summer when she came here the first time. And what was worse was that her brother dressed just like them. She shivered. If she didn’t see her brother wearing so little clothing ever again, it would be too soon.
She returned to her work, reminding herself that she wasn’t in Bismarck. She was in the tribe, and what was shocking to her was perfectly natural to them. They went about their business as if nothing was wrong because, to them, it wasn’t wrong. She had to get used to it. In time, she was sure she would adjust and think nothing of it as well.
Aunt Erin is in for a real shock when she gets here, Julia thought as she leaned forward and dug another hole into her section of the garden.
She put the seed into the ground and glanced up in time to see Sarita walking by. She frowned, wondering why Sarita should be on this side of the tribe when her lodge wasn’t close by. Sarita headed in her direction, so she stopped what she was doing.
Sarita knelt by her. Startled, Julia scanned the area, realizing the others were too far to hear them. She considered walking away but then decided that would send the wrong message to Sarita who had spent almost all of her waking hours watching her.
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” Julia snapped shoving the dirt on top of the newly planted seed.
“Chogan is mine. The chief promised him to me!” she hissed, taking the spade out of Julia’s hand.
“Well, he married me instead!” Julia hissed back and grabbed the spade. “Go away. You’re not part of this lodge or even this clan.”
Sarita wrapped her hand tightly around Julia’s wrist, forcing Julia to drop the spade. Julia shoved Sarita away from her, and Sarita fell back and landed in the dirt. Pinning her to the ground before Sarita could get away, Julia reached out and took the spade back.
Just as Julia lifted her hand so that Sarita couldn’t get the spade again, Sarita let out an ear piercing scream. “She’s hurting me!” she yelled in Mandan.
Stunned, Julia stilled and didn’t realize until it was too late how bad things looked. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the shock on the other women’s faces. Returning her attention to a whimpering Sarita who was covering her face, Julia grunted with disgust and backed away from her, doing her best to smooth her skirt. Two of Chogan’s aunts and his mother came over to them in time for Sarita to lower her hands.
After a moment’s disbelief at the scratch marks on Sarita’s face, Julia gritted her teeth. “I don’t believe this!” Julia stood up and clenched the spade in her hand. Choosing words she knew in Mandan, she told Chogan’s relatives, “She lies! She wants me to leave. She wants Chogan.”
Sarita wiped her tears and sniffed. “You attacked me. They all saw it. Didn’t you?” she asked, turning her gaze to the other women.
“That is how it looked,” Chogan’s mother slowly replied, looking from Sarita to Julia and back again.
“Oh, she lies!” Julia screamed. “I plant. She...” She struggled for the right word. “She bother me. She says Chogan her husband.”
Julia paused when she realized that didn’t come out quite right, but even as she struggled for the right words, Sarita stood up and began speaking so fast that Julia could hardly keep up with her.
Finally, once Sarita stopped, Chogan’s aunt turned to Julia. “Go on to the lodge. We will talk later.”
Face flushed, Julia grunted but obeyed. Her skirt nearly made her lose her balance as it wrapped around her legs, but she managed to walk without embarrassing herself. That was all she needed. Sarita would love nothing more than to see her fall flat on her face. It took all of Julia’s willpower to avoid looking back as the women talked to Sarita in what Julia worried were sympathetic tones.
Sarita had a big advantage over her. Sarita grew up here, so Chogan’s relatives knew her and were probably comfortable with her. And as much as Julia loathed it, it did appear as if she was ready to hit Sarita with the spade. Not that it crossed her mind at the time, but who would believe her?
She hated Sarita. The woman kept popping up all over the place, and even if Chogan and Woape thought it was a coincidence, she really believed Sarita was following her.
“It’s a small tribe,” Julia muttered, recalling their words. “You’re bound to run into Sarita sooner or later.”
She huffed as she entered the lodge and threw the spade onto the pile of gardening supplies on her way to the only place she felt safe from Sarita: the room she and Chogan shared.
“Too bad it’s not a little cabin out in the middle of nowhere.”
What she really needed was to get away from people. Whether it was Bismarck or here, it seemed someone was trying to find a way to come between her and Chogan, and she was getting sick of it. She plopped down on the bed and buried her face in the pillow made of feathers. She fought off the urge to cry. She was far too angry to cry, but even as she told herself this, the tears slid down her cheeks and fell onto the pillow.
She wished her aunt was living there. If anyone could understand how frustrating it was to know Sarita was following her all over the place, it was her aunt. She closed her eyes and imagined Erin finding her in the room and asking her what was wrong. As Julia told her the whole sordid tale, her aunt would rub her back and listen with the caring ears only someone like a mother could provide. Thinking of her aunt’s soothing words and gentle touch calmed Julia’s hot emotions until Julia found herself drifting off to sleep.
In the span of what seemed to be a few minutes but had to be longer since Julia was aware she had slept, Chogan said her name. His familiar voice roused her from sleep. She opened her puffy eyes as he sat next to her.
“I heard what happened with Sarita,” he softly said.
She groaned and rolled onto her back so she could see him. “I didn’t attack her. I was trying to get my spade back. She kept taking it from me.”
“I gathered as much.”
She eyed him carefully. “Didn’t your mother and aunts tell you I was ready to strike her?”
He shrugged and turned away.
She sensed that he was trying not to laugh so she peered around his side and, sure enough, he was grinning. “It’s not funny.”
“They described what you looked like, hovering over her with the spade raised in the air as if you were ready to strike. I got the image of a mighty hunter going in for the kill.
” He glanced at her, his eyes twinkling. “I bet you were a terrifying sight.”
With a loud sigh, she rolled back onto her stomach. “They think I tried to kill her or something.”
“No. They know what Sarita is like. They know she provoked you.”
At that announcement, she rolled onto her back again. “Really?”
He laughed. “Yes. Sarita has no business being in our gardens. Her lodge is not close to ours. It’s obvious what was going on.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. That was good news.
He brushed the loose strands of hair from her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her. “I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention when you said she was bothering you.”
“She’s been following me. Whenever I go somewhere, she’s nearby watching me. It’s creepy. Woape tried to talk to her, but Sarita’s insistent that she’ll marry you.”
“That will never happen. There will never be another woman for me but you, Julia.”
She gave him a shy smile and touched his braid which reached his shoulders. “I want to be more like the women here. You know, with the braids. How do you make these?”
“I’ll show you after you take a bath.”
She frowned. “A bath?”
“We’ll need to get cleaned up first.”
Her eyebrows rose in interest. “We?”
“You don’t think I’ll let you go to the river by yourself, do you? I need to make sure Sarita doesn’t follow you.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer to her so that their lips were mere inches from touching. “You’ll send her running off then?”
“With my bow and arrow,” he promised with a sly smile.
“Now that’s something I’d love to see.”
His lips met hers for a lingering kiss before they headed to the river for a bath.
***
Two weeks later, Conrad glanced at his brother as they stopped at the front door. “I owe you one,” he said under his breath.
“Remember that when it’s time to vote,” Henry replied.
“Who else would I vote for?”
He smiled at Conrad’s joke. “I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” He knocked on the door.
Conrad straightened his back, aware he was ready to enter the lion’s den. Had he any other way to take a look into Ernest’s house, he would have opted for it, but Ernest’s record was too clean. No judge would allow a search warrant on him.
Maybe Ernest is innocent. Maybe he didn’t commit the crime. Conrad rubbed his eyes. He’d exhausted all leads in Fargo. This was his last hope.
The door opened and Ernest smiled. “Senator Williams, welcome.”
Henry shook Ernest’s hand and motioned to Conrad. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my brother.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Ernest said, turning to Conrad.
Conrad shook his hand and forced a smile. “Good to meet you.”
Ernest let go of his hand and waved them inside. “Come on in.”
Conrad followed his brother into the house and scanned the entryway, the stairs to his left leading to the second floor, and the parlor to his right. “This house seems awfully big for a bachelor.”
“That would be true if a bachelor wasn’t well off,” Ernest replied. “Before we have dinner, I want you to select the wine for the meal.” He turned to lead them down the hallway on the main floor.
Conrad sighed. That comment should have evoked some kind of reaction from Ernest, but Ernest didn’t even flinch.
Henry glanced at Conrad and raised an eyebrow.
Conrad gave a slight shrug. Though Henry didn’t know the exact nature of the case, he understood it was serious. While Ernest led them to the door opposite the kitchen entrance, Conrad studied his surroundings. A grandmotherly type of woman hummed as she stirred something in a large pot.
“It smells good,” Henry told Ernest, nodding to the kitchen.
“That’s the steak,” Ernest replied, looking pleased by the compliment. “Mrs. Johnson adds just the right spices.”
“Mrs. Johnson?” Conrad asked, taking a better look at the woman with gray hair pulled back into a bun.
“I hired her shortly after I came to Bismarck.” Ernest opened the door that led down a set of narrow steps. “The cellar is where I keep the wine.”
Conrad glanced back at Mrs. Johnson. Just how well did she know Ernest? Perhaps she saw something worth noting. “I think I’ll stay up here and let you pick it out,” he told his brother before he looked at Ernest. “Henry is the one who best knows which wine to pick.”
“Alright. Make yourself at home.”
Conrad waited until the two men went down the steps before he strolled into the kitchen.
Mrs. Johnson turned from the pot and smiled at him. “You want to sample a bite?”
The corners of his lips turned up. “No thank you. It does smell good, but I’ll wait. I have a feeling your food is worth it.”
She giggled and waved her hand at him. “You’re quite the charmer.”
“I’m stating the obvious. I gather you’ve been a big help to Ernest.” He stood close enough to her so that he could lower his voice. “Being a bachelor myself, I can attest to our inability to cook meals this tempting.”
“All men should have a good home cooked meal. It’s good for the body.”
He nodded. “No one can argue that. I can’t wait to get married so I can eat better. The companionship will be good too, of course.” He paused for a moment before he added, “I suppose Ernest feels the same way.”
She sighed as she returned to the pot where she stirred the soup. “The poor boy. He had his hopes set on marrying someone, but she married another.”
“Oh?”
“The young lady broke his heart. It’s a real shame too.”
“Really? What happened?”
She took the pot off the stove and set it on the pot holder that rested on the table. “She married someone else.”
“That must have been a shock.” He set another pot holder on the table when he saw her retrieve the skillet with the steaks in it.
“Quite, especially since she married one of those Injuns.”
Conrad refrained from suggesting she use a less offensive name to describe Chogan. Right now what he needed was information, and he couldn’t do that if he upset her. “Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone else.”
“I hope so. He’s been through enough.”
“You really like Ernest.”
She set the potholder on the table and placed the skillet on it. “Of course, I do. I’m cooking for him, aren’t I?”
“That’s true,” Conrad replied, drumming his fingers on the table as he tried to decide the best way to get information that might be useful. “This is a big house for a bachelor.”
“It is and it’s not an easy place to clean.”
“You clean for him too?”
“My husband passed on to meet the Good Lord.” She sighed and made the sign of the cross. “I don’t necessarily need the money, but it’s nice to be useful.”
He glanced around the kitchen. “You do an impressive job. The place looks immaculate.”
She giggled and waved her hand at him. “You really are a charmer, aren’t you?”
“Hardly. I’m just stating what I notice. You keep this house clean from top to bottom.”
“Well, that’s almost true. Ernest won’t let me clean the cellar.”
Conrad’s ears perked up. “Did he say why?”
She shrugged. “Just said he wanted to keep the bottles as they are. He’s very particular about his wine.”
Interesting, he thought as he turned his attention to the open door that led down to the cellar. “Mrs. Johnson, now you have my curiosity piqued. I must see those wine bottles.”
“You should. It’s quite the collection.”
Conrad thanked her and hastened down the steps. So Ernest didn’t want Mrs. Johnson cleaning
the cellar. That could only mean the evidence, if there was any, had to be down here. When he reached the bottom step, he peered into the dimly lit room where Henry held a kerosene lamp.
“Decided to join us, brother?” Henry asked, turning to him from the center of the room.
Conrad inspected the rows of wine to the right before he turned to the one wine rack close to the brick wall on his left. He looked at Ernest who stood with a bottle in his hands that Henry was inspecting. “Do you mind if I ask why you have one rack over by this wall when you have three rows of racks on the other side?”
“An odd setup, I admit,” Ernest replied. “The wine to your left is my finest.”
Conrad nodded. “May I check them out? I’d like to know what the finest wine is like.”
Ernest tucked the bottle of wine close to his side. “Help yourself.”
Henry gave Conrad a questioning look but didn’t say anything as he walked over to Conrad and lifted the lamp in Conrad’s direction.
Conrad tried not to be obvious about inspecting the rack or the wall behind it as he pretended to study the wine bottles in front of him. The light from the lamp did little to give him proper lighting so he couldn’t tell if there was anything unusual about the wall. It looked like the other walls in the cellar. He’d heard of a case where a man killed his business partner and buried him in the cellar and built a wall to hide him.
With a heavy sigh, he straightened up and pointed to a bottle at random. “This wine is tempting, don’t you think, Henry?”
Henry wrinkled his nose. “That won’t go down smoothly with the steak. The one Ernest is holding is better.”
Conrad scanned the rest of the cellar and didn’t see anything suspicious. He was so close. He could feel it. But he couldn’t figure out where he was supposed to be looking. His gaze met Ernest’s, and he wondered if Ernest guessed why he was there. To be on the safe side, he opted to give up his detective work for the night.
He went over to Ernest and read the label on the bottle he held. “I have to say I was wrong. This bottle will go much better with dinner.”
Brave Beginnings Page 26