by Rita Hestand
Finding Her
Book 8 of Dream Catcher Series
Finding Her
(Book Eight of the Dream Catcher Series)
Rita Hestand
Copyright ©2019 Rita Hestand
All rights reserved
Cover by Sheri McGathy
License Note
This book Finding Her is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without express written permission of the author or publisher.
Finding Her is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics like any person past, present or future are coincidental.
/Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author
Rita's Other Books
Dedication:
This book is dedicated to the great Sioux and Cheyenne Nations, along with many other tribes of our country that fought in those wars. The wars of 1876-1877 were sad times for our country. Treaties were broken, Custer's Last Stand has been often viewed from many directions. But let us not forget that many great American Indian Nations fought hard for the land they called The Great Sioux Reservation. And I honor them with this book.
1875 Winter
Black Hills, Montana
Chapter One
The overcast sky lent another dreary winter day. The wind whistled through the cracks of the fort posts like a far-off train whistle. A platoon of soldiers marched to a drill Sergeant's orders, their footsteps making a music all their own as they crunched into the frozen ground. A big heavy man was chasing a colored woman through the compound, a ready whip in his hand, his face waded in a huge unbreakable frown. The woman slipped and fell, the wagon master picked her up.
Fort Ellis was well-manned and protected fort that supported the Gallatin Valley settlers and miners of Montana. Soldiers from the 2nd Calvary, and 7th Infantry helped build the stronghold for the area.
But the snapping sound of a leather whip tearing into flesh had Aiden McCoy scrambling into another man's business.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Aiden jerked the whip out of the wagon master's hand, as though it was his business to do so.
The man was shorter, but stout. Without warning he cracked the whip and stared at the intruder.
"This isn't your business, mister." The big man objected.
"Why are you beating that woman?" Aiden demanded to know, as though it were his business.
"She's my slave, and she didn't make the coffee this morning."
Aiden pulled his gun and put it to the man's throat. His dark brown eyes bore into the man, his teeth clenched, he cocked the gun. "Make your own damned coffee this morning." Aiden told him in no uncertain terms. "If you bed her you should know she's human, just like you."
"You really ought to mind your own business mister." The big man said reaching for the whip once more.
Aiden moved the gun to the man's head. He grabbed the whip out of the man's hand.
"Leave it, you won't be needing that here." Aiden threatened.
The man gave the black woman a scalding glanced and walked off.
Aiden threw the whip on the ground and helped the black woman up. "Go on about your business." He told her.
She gave him a backward glance and scurried off toward the wagon master. Little good it did to rescue her, she'd be right back where she started when they left the fort, Aiden shook his head.
Skeeter, another scout, walked up to him seeing the black woman disappear. He was short and pudgy, with a jolly face most of the time. "What was that all about?"
"I don't know, but I won't put up with a whip on anyone." Aiden informed him. "Especially a woman."
"That's Crawford, he pulled in last night, that slave is his mistress, so I'm told." Skeeter scratched his cheek and studied Aiden for a moment. "He's a sleazy character, if I ever did see one. I'm surprised you horned in on his business Aiden."
"He should watch out, she might put a knife in his big belly…" Aiden laughed.
Skeeter chuckled. "You just get back?"
"Yeah, I need a hot bath and a day or two's sleep right now."
"Aiden McCoy?" A corporal came running down the steps of the headquarters. Young and neatly dressed, the young soldier was eager to do the Colonel's bidding. Aiden turned slowly toward the Corporal, his glance sliding quickly over the young man.
The young Corporal couldn't have been much over eighteen. Clean shaven, well built and eager to please, he stared blatantly at Aiden for a second before he seemed to remember why he was there.
"Yes," Aiden addressed the soldier with temperance. Aiden was a tall, slender man with long, burnished light brown hair, his glance slid from Skeeter into the young soldier with half annoyance and half pity. He turned to look at the Corporal as he was talking to Skeeter. His brown eyes going over the young man once more with interest.
"Major Marsh wants to see you."
Aiden threw Skeeter a quick glance, "I was hoping for some sleep before I am dragged off for another assignment."
"That's what you get for being so popular with the officers." Skeeter chuckled.
"Thanks Corporal, talk to you later Skeeter," He motioned to the scout that shook his head.
"Sure thing, Aiden," Skeeter's twinkling brown eyes met Aiden's annoyed glance. Skeeter had been a scout here for nearly ten years. He knew Aiden well. "Hope you can manage to get a little rest."
"Me too. I'm beat." Aiden shook his head.
Aiden smiled and went to the Colonel's office.
He hadn't known Colonel Gibbon long, but he heard plenty from fellow soldiers. Colonel Gibbon had an astute history as a war hero. He'd been wounded several times during the civil war and survived. He'd written a manual on artillery that both Confederate and Union soldiers studied on during the civil war. Aiden quickly sized him up as a tough man some time ago. He had a reputation of sorts with some as a very hard man to deal with. Most of the scouts didn't care for him, but it was because most of the scouts were either Indian or part Indian. Aiden was neither, but he had to respect Gibbon, he'd been through numerous wars and was still alive.
Major Marsh was a different story, working under Gibbon, Marsh was overlooked by the war hero General and sought fame for himself. He was young and eager to fight and make a name for himself.
It was an uneven time for the Indians. Custer was Between the Major and the Colonel, they planned to put the Indians in their place.
Lt. General Philip Sheridan had begun the campaign with Brig General Crook on the Platt, General Terry in the Dakotas and Colonel Gibbon in the District of Montana to bring all hostile Indians onto the reservations. It was a goal that would bring them great credit and mark the end for the Indians. But thinking about it and accomplishing it, was two very different things. None of the Indians would go willingly to a reservation, with good reason. Once under the control of Washington, the Indians were severely taken advantage of as far as Aiden was concerned.
Given a parcel of land, Aiden knew it was only a matter of time before settl
ers started moving in and pushing the Indians off the land. They'd no sooner assign them a piece of land for a reservation than the white people found a reason to invade them. Treaties were famously broken.
There was Custer who flamboyantly bragged he'd take Sitting Bull down. It was fact that every big-wig officer west of the Missouri wanted to take the Sioux and Cheyenne, and Arapaho down and now was not a peaceful time, on either side. The Sioux were gathering great forces, and the Cheyenne had taken over the Plains.
"You wanted to see me Major?" Aiden asked as he stepped into the sterile office. Aiden could never quite get over the fact that the Colonel had such a bland, non-descript office. The only display he offered was a well-protected closet of artillery he'd acquired over the years. Aiden had seen Custer's office once, and the stark differences echoed in Aiden's mind. Custer's office held victorious souvenirs of his battles, having swords, and guns and all manner of flags displayed on his walls. There was a picture on his desk of his wife, there were poetry books on a shelf. He had fancy rugs and painted quite a picture of his conquests. Here there was a desk, and two chairs, one for the Colonel and one for his guests. The walls echoed the somberness of a man who'd seen many battles yet was victor of a small handful of what Washington called skirmishes since the civil war. A man who pushed on, no matter what, who obeyed orders. Most officers had pictures and souvenirs all over the place, but not Gibbon. He was a realist, but he aimed to be the victor in the end. Major Marsh was in charge at the moment as Gibbon was visiting Washington. Jeb Marsh was a plain unadorned man with a no-nonsense approach to life. He had a big mustache that one noted when they walked in the room, He was big, tall, and immaculate in appearance, in his mid-fifties with graying hair, a round face and ruddy complexion. He glanced up from his desk. His sharp light brown eyes nailed Aiden as he came into the room.
Marsh rarely smiled except around women, he thought himself quite the ladies' man.
Aiden stared at the man as he shook his hand. Marsh was a hard as rock army man who'd witnessed the remains of too many of his own men to brag. It was a daunting job, the Indians no longer wanted to talk of treaties with them moving about it was hard to keep an eye on them especially with the Black Hills accommodating their escapes. The Sioux, Cheyenne and other tribes found the Black Hills a haven of home. Mainly because it had been given them as the Great Sioux Reservation, and because no one could manipulate those hills better than the Indians.
Marsh was a West Pointer who went strictly by the book. Aiden didn't like him much, but Marsh favored him above all the scouts. Mainly because he knew the Indians so well. Aiden had to give him credit, he knew his job, and he took it seriously.
Right now, Aiden was over-worked, under-paid and out of sorts with officers with big dreams, and wagon masters who thought themselves God Almighty.
"Sit down, Aiden."
Suddenly the door opened, and a man and woman came inside. The woman wore fine green silks with a plume of feathers in her hat that matched. The man beside her looked dignified but restrained somehow.
Major Marsh stood up and smiled, extending his hand to the gentleman and a cordial greeting for the beautiful woman at his side.
"Aiden this is Frank Winters and his wife Gloria. They are here to find their daughter, Peggy. She's three years old and was captured in a wagon train by the Sioux. I want you to help them find her, as I cannot spare a man right now, and you are the only one that could accomplish this."
Aiden glanced once more at the couple. The man was not much taller than the woman, but he looked capable. The woman was a beauty, with dark raven hair, and grey eyes that looked straight through him.
Aiden looked at Major Marsh, "This isn't the sort of thing I usually take care of, Major."
"True, but I cannot spare a troop, to go hunt for the child, and you are the next best thing to a troop in that country." The Major smiled at Mrs. Winters.
"Is that an order, sir?" Aiden asked, glancing at the couple once more.
The woman shot him an acid glance.
"Yes, it is."
Aiden took a chair and waited until the Major looked up from his desk.
The woman took the chair beside Aiden, as her silent husband stood just behind her. But the woman wasn't silent. It was obvious she was anxious to get the hunt for her child started. "How soon can we leave, scout?" She glanced at Aiden, her eyes going over every inch of him with interest.
He hadn't been this aware of a woman in some time, but with her husband staring over her shoulder at him, he wasn't obliged to flirt with her. Besides, he wasn't into married women. A pretty woman was just that, pretty.
The Major cleared his throat. "Excuse me ma'am but our scout has just come back from another assignment."
The Major ignored her remark for the moment.
"But of course, but we must be on our way quickly." She insisted.
"You just get back from that wagon train?" The Major eyed Aiden with a bit of aggravation.
Aiden glanced at the woman then nodded to the Major. "Yeah, got them across the Platt. There's another outbreak of Cholera further north," Aiden leaned toward his desk now so he had his full attention. "Naturally, there were some signs posted along the way. So, they are turning south now. They are trying to go around the sickness. It'll be a longer trip, but safer."
"It's always like that, isn't it?" The Major rubbed his chin. "Always something stirring the pot. The Colonel is in Washington right now, and I'm left to see to things here. So, how soon can you be ready?"
"I haven't been out of the saddle more than an hour sir." Aiden glanced at the Major with a huge frown.
The Major nodded. "I see, well, get some rest you can head out day after tomorrow, then."
"Yes sir," Aiden stood up now and prepared to leave.
"But we can't wait that long. Our daughter is only three years old and no telling what they've done with her. We must leave right away." The woman stood up now and leaned toward the major behind his desk.
"How long ago was she captured?" Aiden demanded to know, his voice like a sharp razor.
"Over a month ago."
"Then two more days won't make a difference."
"But… "
In one lithe movement Aiden was almost nose to nose with the woman. "Ma'am the Sioux don't kill babies. They don't torture them either. If they have your child, she's being cared for at that age, I can assure you. And if you want me to lead you to her, you'll not fret as I get some rest. I've been scouting three weeks with a wagon train, and I'm beat. After I get some much-needed rest, we'll be on our way, I assume you are going with us?" He stared into her clear gray eyes.
"Well," the woman huffed. "Naturally, I'm going, that's my child out there."
"Then in two days, you be ready."
Aiden turned nodded to the Major and started to leave, but the Major lifted his hand toward him, "Aiden, I've got something I need to discuss with you yet. Would you excuse us ma'am? You'll be leaving, day after tomorrow."
The woman scoffed and retreated out the door with her husband close behind. Her husband hadn't said one word.
Coming back toward the Major he made a face, "You've really got me into something this time, Major."
"Yes, I think I have." The Major smiled. "You notice her husband didn't say a word."
"Yeah, I did notice that."
Aiden moved until the leather of the chair began to relax at bit, he crossed one of his long legs over one knee put his hat on his knee and waited for whatever was on the Major's mind.
"Aiden, I got a real rough assignment for you and I guess you could turn it down, but I'm hoping you won't. Since you are headed for the Sioux camp, it will be on your way."
Aiden frowned, "Thought I might get a little rest before I headed out again, Major."
He knew there would be no rest, but he wanted to remind the Major he just got back.
Still the Major shook his head. "I know. And if anyone else could do this, I'd send them. But this is something I thin
k only you can handle."
"Why?" Aiden eyed him with precision. "You have several capable scouts."
"Because you know the Cheyenne pretty well Aiden, and I believe you are the only one I have that can do this job."
Aiden rested his arm on his leg and stared at him, "Cut the compliments, I know when you are buttering me up for something. What is it?"
"We have a small party of Cheyenne giving us some trouble now, about going to the reservation, and if they put up a stink about going, the other tribes will too. They've been given most of the Black Hills as a Great Sioux Reservation and they have all the hunting rights."
"Sounds like they are in the right place already? What's the problem?"
"We've had some trouble, and I don't want it escalating. We're just inches from another war, this time with the Cheyenne, I fear. Although the Sioux would probably help them."
"Cheyenne, then why not let Bear Belly or Long Nose take this on?"
"Because they are enemies with the Cheyenne, and they might cause more problems. And the Indian scouts are bickering back and forth about every move we make. They know their people are going to be forced onto reservations. But, nonetheless, my job is to get them on the reservations.
"Well Major it might help if y'all quit pushing them onto a land then taking it away from them and making them move."
"I don't make those decisions Aiden. Washington does. One particular tribe of the Cheyenne has settled in the Black Hills and is nestled there for the winter. That's fine, but they've been making raids all summer, and aiming them at us. We think they are camping with the Sioux. They seem to be moving continuously so it's hard to pinpoint them. It's a small band of them, dedicated to the White Silver Fox. She's the leader of this renegade bunch. I've been told you know her."
"I do."
"We need her cooperation to get them moved. If she'll relent, this won't be a huge task."
"You want them to move because you found gold, silver, copper, whatever."
"Look, we get her on our side, and the move will be easy, and the killings will stop. They must stop and stop now or there will be more wars."