Stone Heart's Woman

by Velda Brotherton

  He well knew her favorite, and so she began to sing “Danny Boy,” softly so that anyone who listened would not become unduly curious. By the time she approached his window, she had reached the strain, “From glen to glen, and o’er the mountainside.”

  She glanced sideways, kept strolling and singing. Saw him turn, stride toward the opening, check over his shoulder, then peer outside.

  “A’den?”

  “’Tis I’ll be here in sunshine or in sorrow,” she sang, turning to walk back to him.

  At the window, she moved close.

  “Is it you?” He barely whispered the words.

  “’Tis I, and it is you must go and I must bide,” she sang.

  He reached through the bars and she brushed his hand with shaky fingers. “We have to get you out of here. What can I do?”

  “Leave this place now. Go far away. There is nothing you can do.”

  Grief burned her throat. “There must be something.”

  “No. I have what I wanted. They are letting my people go home. It’s over. You must go home as well, A’den, or they’ll put you in here with me.”

  “I can’t, it’s too late. They’re looking for me everywhere.”

  “Steal a horse, sneak away, do something.”

  “I love you, I won’t leave you here.”

  “Hey, you, what’s going on in there?” Footsteps approached the cell, and Stone Heart slipped to the floor, rested his head on his knees.

  Mouth dry and heart racing, Aiden ducked down below the window.

  Inside, she heard Stone Heart mumbling and snorting as if making sleep noises.

  “Keep it down in there, breed.” The footsteps receded.

  She remained there for a long while, then raised cautiously. He stood at the window, staring out into the darkness.

  “You will be stubborn about this, I think,” he finally said.

  “Oh, yes, indeed I will. I won’t leave until you can go with me, so you’d better come up with an idea fast.”

  He was silent so long, she thought he wasn’t going to do as she asked, then he said, “There’s only one way out and that’s the front door.”

  “Then that’s the only way in too.”

  “No, A’den. Don’t do that. Don’t be foolish.”

  “When will they...shoot you?”

  “Oh, not for a while. First they will hold a trial, then they’ll shoot me. I think they’ll wait till the Cheyenne are shipped to the agency and all these reporters go home.”

  “Oh, my God, Stone Heart.”

  “What?”

  “The reporters. I think I can get you out of here. Stay here, be patient.”

  “Don’t worry, I think I’ll be here a while.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I love you,” he replied.

  She heard him whisper her name as she scurried away, but she didn’t reply. There was no time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Running about through the dark, cold night wasn’t Aiden’s idea of a good time. The moccasins Stone Heart had given her were covered in mud and soaked by melting snow. If she didn’t die from exposure, she’d be lucky. But she had to find the reporter Marcus Young. He seemed impressed with Stone Heart’s mission, and might be willing to help get him out of trouble. The fort was so huge, with its rows of officers’ quarters, separate barracks for both the infantry and the cavalry, she didn’t know where to start looking for him. There seemed to be hundreds of men here when they gathered on the parade grounds of a morning.

  Still, she would not give up. Night fires cast eerie shadows along the periphery of the parade grounds beyond which loomed countless structures that she hadn’t yet searched. Low clouds reflected a pale glow in the sky, making it easy to find her way. Even though everyone had settled in for the night, she hesitated to venture into the light cast by those flickering fires. Actually, resting for a while on the boardwalk in front of the sutler’s, she felt quite lost. It was time she stopped wandering about and rethought her options.

  A warm wind had blown all day, then laid when the sun went down. Now an unearthly cold crept around her shoulders, biting through the buckskin jacket. She wished for the big ugly buffalo coat Wiley Lawson had given her. It had been lost in the shuffle when the soldiers raided Meeker’s camp. She hugged herself and wondered again what she was doing here in this dreadful place so far from the comforts of her home near the docks of the Mississippi River. A home she had foolishly left behind in search of a new and better life. She had expected to find excitement in the world outside St. Louis, but had found only a harsh and extremely unkind environment.

  At times like these she so yearned to rest in her mother’s arms, enjoy the raucous exuberance of her five brothers, sleep in her own bed. Then she remembered the resignation in Stone Heart’s eyes as he peered through the bars of his cell. Thinking of him awaiting execution reinforced her vow not to give up. She must save him, no matter the cost to herself.

  Creeping out into the open, she studied her surroundings and saw she had come nearly full circle. Just down the way were the officers’ quarters. Retha would know where the reporters were staying. Remembering the mood of Lieutenant Woods, she wasn’t sure she dare return to their quarters. He’d be in an even more dreadful mood what with Retha aiding in her escape. She shivered and her teeth rattled. It appeared she had little choice, for if she didn’t get in out of this cold, she could well freeze to death.

  Having no idea what time it was, for it seemed she’d wandered for hours, she feared they would probably be asleep. Perhaps there would be a guard standing outside the doors of her own empty room in case she returned. Visions of the clean, soft bed and the little stove overpowered any fear she might have. If Retha had retired, she could hide in there until morning. Figure out someway to speak to the woman away from her husband’s hearing.

  At the officers’ mess she cut through and approached from the back, retracing her earlier steps when she’d fled the pursuing guard. Peering from the alley, she saw that no one was about. A patch of light puddled outside the front window of the Woods’ home. Someone was awake. Tiptoeing to the window she dared to peek in. Retha sat in a rocker, mending a stocking. Aiden could not see anyone else. Hopefully, that meant the lieutenant was in bed asleep.

  She waited for several minutes, not sure what to do, then risked tapping lightly on the glass. Retha kept on rocking and sewing, mouth pursed in concentration. Aiden tapped again.

  Retha glanced up, but something distracted her. A muffled voice from the other room. Perhaps asking about the noise. She replied, then looked again at the window. Aiden pressed her face to the glass, wiggled her fingers.

  Retha lay down the mending and rose. She glanced toward the bedroom, then fetched a heavy cloak from the hat tree and stepped out onto the boardwalk, closing the door gently behind her. When she got a good look at Aiden, her eyes bugged.

  “My goodness gracious. You look as if you’ve been mud bathing. What’re you doing here this time of night?”

  “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s the only time I get any peace when he’s home is after he goes to sleep. He’s been at me non-stop about your getting away.”

  “What’d you tell him? Did you get in trouble? Oh, come, let’s go around to the side so no one will see us.”

  “I took my medicine like a good little wife. Let him pace and yell and throw his arms about. He’s furious, but I convinced him that women often do foolish things. We must help our friends, no matter what they do.” She chuckled. “Men don’t understand us, anyway. You can tell them just about anything, and they’ll sigh and shake their heads.” Retha shivered, and took Aiden’s arm. “No one is about. The guards are on the perimeter. Let’s step inside your quarters. It’s cold out here. Aren’t you freezing?”

  Aiden backed through the door Retha unlatched and hugged herself to still the quaking deep in her belly. It wasn’t much warmer inside.

  “Where’s yo
ur coat?” Retha asked. “You’re chilled to the bone.”

  “This is all I have.”

  Retha shook her head and tut-tutted, then bustled through the darkness, returning with a blanket that she wrapped around Aiden.

  “I never will be able to say again that nothing much happened while we were at Camp Robinson. Fort Robinson, I guess it is now. Hard to get used to the change. You’ve added some excitement to my life. But what else can I do for you? I have to hurry back. He might wake up.”

  Nodding, Aiden rushed to tell her. “I need to know where that reporter Marcus Young is staying. Can you tell me?”

  “Oh, dear. Well, do you know where the infantry men’s barracks are?”

  “Over near the commissary? Yes.”

  “They’ve let them bunk in the building furthermost to the rear. I can’t imagine how crowded it must be, and how difficult it is for them to concentrate. But you know the army isn’t too concerned with the comfort of anyone save the upper echelon. Rank is all, as they say. Lowly lieutenants don’t fare as well as the captains and colonels. Privates and corporals take the worst of army life.”

  Aiden’s heart sank. How would she ever get to the reporters without someone seeing her? Maybe she could hide and wait, hope he came out. He would have to eventually, but the circumstances would have to be just right for her to dare approach him. Thinking of Stone Heart sleeping on straw ticking on the cold, hard floor in the guardhouse while he awaited his fate was enough to give her the courage to try.

  “Why don’t you stay here the night?” Retha said. “No one will think to look for you if you don’t build a fire. Anyway, they think you’ve left the camp. I heard Lieutenant Woods say as much earlier.” Again she chuckled with glee. “Imagine. He thinks no one could outwit his soldiers, certainly not a mere slip of a girl. I can’t wait until he finds out you’ve been here all along.”

  At a tiny exclamation from Aiden, Retha touched her arm. “Oh, dear. Don’t worry. I won’t tell him till it’s all over and done with. But I will have a lovely time in the telling, you can be sure.

  “You’re so cold. There are blankets here, wrap up in them and get some sleep. I know it’s cold, but it’s better than being out in the elements all night. Oh, my goodness, I wish there were more I could do for you. You look such a sight, all covered in mud. Even your lovely hair is full of it. Oh, my goodness.” She stood there a moment, bundled in her cloak, as if she would say more if she could. “What will you do? Is it true they are going to shoot that young man?”

  “Not if I can help it. I’m going to do everything I can to get him out. There’s surely something someone can do. Public sentiment freed the remainder of those poor Indians, perhaps it can reach far enough to free him as well. They’re going to murder him for doing what he thought was right. What is right, by God.”

  “It will be a very hard life.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You love him and that will make for you a very hard life.”

  “How did you know? I mean, yes, I do. He’s...oh, I don’t know how to explain it so you’ll understand.”

  “Understand? Don’t be silly, child. Why, look at me. I love Lieutenant Woods. Isn’t that enough said? No one can explain love, not why or from where it comes. Sometimes I think it’s a vicious little joke God played on us all, but never mind.”

  Aiden actually joined Retha in a small laugh.

  “I must go.” Retha glanced around. “You must be brave. It will all work out. If there’s anything else I can do, please let me know. And be very careful. I fear someone will shoot you in the dark, thinking you’re some sort of wild animal.”

  A combination of the cold and the dried mud coating her skin and clothing made for a very uncomfortable night’s sleep. Even after she pulled the thin mattress over her shivering body. Lying on the hard floor waiting for sleep to come, she recalled the nights spent in the shelter with Stone Heart. She wished him there beside her, warm body curled around her. Dreamed of the day they would be together once again someplace where the sun was warm.

  ****

  Soldiers loaded the pathetic group of Cheyenne into wagons that morning. With a mixture of relief and sorrow, Stone Heart watched through the tiny window of his cell. Of the over two hundred people who had journeyed here from down south, many fewer than a hundred were left in the prison barracks. There might be more alive elsewhere, he had no way of knowing. He had heard several of the men who would be tried in Kansas for murder were being held elsewhere. He expected no one would ever see them again.

  The uprising was finished, over, as were the people of Dull Knife and Little Wolf. These few poor survivors they were loading into the wagons would soon be on their way to the Red Cloud Agency, and from there it was said they could go home to join Little Wolf and his band. To his sorrow, he’d heard that Dull Knife had died in the fighting. He hoped not, for he liked to imagine the great man home at last where he belonged.

  As for Stone Heart, it no longer mattered where he belonged. He would soon die and his spirit would go to join all the others who had been slain here in this awful place. All he wished was that he could see A’den one last time before they filled his body with lead.

  Were it not for her he wouldn’t be sorry for anything he had done. Now he wished he could return to being white, and she could be with him. He had learned much at West Point that would stand him in good stead in the civilian life. Perhaps in California or Oregon. There they could make a fine life together, and he could forget the hate he felt for his father. Only by putting that behind him could he hope to offer her happiness. But it was too late. It was over. All over. The dreams were but shadows in an everlasting night.

  Footsteps approached and he turned from the window and his reverie.

  “You have a visitor,” a young private announced, and went to stand a few feet away, leaving the young reporter, Marcus Young, outside the bars of the cell.

  “How are you?” Young asked.

  Stone Heart nodded, unable to bring himself to tell the man his innermost feelings. How much he regretted, how he wished he could do everything all over again.

  “They let them go.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel about that?” Young held a pad and pencil, ever a reporter.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help them more. I had nothing to do with it, but I’m glad it is over. That no more will die. I grieve for all those who were slaughtered needlessly, though. What a pity it is.”

  “I filed your story.”

  Stone Heart glanced at him. “It does not matter now.”

  “It might.”

  A strange gleam in the man’s eyes piqued Stone Heart’s curiosity. “I don’t understand. The people are free.”

  “Do you know of Libbie Custer?”

  “The wife of Long Hair? Never met the woman. Nor desired to.”

  “I hear she’s quite vexed, threatened to sue the newspaper. Says her husband was never untrue to their marriage, and certainly never fathered any bastard half-breed children.”

  Stone Heart snorted with derision. “There’s not a Cheyenne nor Sioux woman he hasn’t tried to bed, save the elderly and ugly, and sometimes he simply closed his eyes. It is true he was not married when he lay with my mother, though.”

  “Uh, I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but Mrs. Custer is quite a formidable figure. She has spent every waking hour since her husband’s death repairing the cracks in his reputation. She’s building a legend and won’t sit still for your claim. Is there any way you can prove he’s your father?”

  Hands gripping the bars as if to throttle them, Stone Heart tried to control his fury. “No, and I don’t care to either. I’d as soon forget it.”

  Young scratched his head and glanced toward the guard, who appeared to have no interest in them at all. “It might be to your advantage to kick up a fuss about this. Could be it would save your skin.”

  “I’d rather go to my death than claim that bastard as my father
. I don’t see how that would save me.”

  Young raised his shoulders, his babyish expression forlorn. “I wish you’d think this over. I’m sure the army will do everything they can to cover up your claim. Could be you could make a deal.”

  “I think you just want another story to feed your readers.”

  Young laughed. “Of course, I do. That’s my job.” Again he shrugged. “But if it could help save a life, I’m all for that too. And think of the story that would make. Besides, I like you and your spunky woman friend. I hear she literally slipped from the clutches of the army and they can’t seem to find her anywhere. Bet that put some burrs in Wessells britches.”

  “Do you know where she is?” Stone Heart asked.

  “No, sorry. If I see her should I tell her you’re ready to die?”

  Stone Heart flexed his arms, and for a moment wished his hands were wrapped around this self-satisfied man’s throat.

  Young must’ve seen something in his eyes, for he took a step backward and the guard made a motion to approach. The reporter waved him away. “Look, I’m sorry, but sometimes we have to do distasteful things. All of us. I understand Crook is on his way back here and he wants Wessells’ hide for stirring this hornet’s nest. You think about it. You tell me all you know about your mother and Custer, dates, places, anyone who might have been there who is still alive, and I’ll get you out of here. Think of that pretty little redhead. I’d say whatever you have to do would be worth it, wouldn’t you?”

  Gritting his teeth, Stone Heart turned away to keep from spatting on the man. “Get out of here, now. Leave me to face my own death in peace.”

  ****

  Early that morning Aiden rejoined a group of Blackfoot children cavorting near the guardhouse. They rolled and played in a snow bank piled against the north side of the building. Though she was a bit larger than the biggest boys, the soldiers didn’t single her out when they glanced at the raucous bunch. She saw Marcus Young leave the guardhouse and watched with a great deal of interest as he hurried toward the station. Excitement filled her. He had been inside, probably seen Stone Heart, maybe even talked to him. Did she dare approach the man?