“I fear my daughter has been abducted by the Indians. It has been over two years. She was traveling with a wagon train and it happened in the great northern Plaines.”
Fletcher Stone knew that they were desperate. Even if it were their desire, women who were abducted by the Indians seldom returned to the white society. In his many years as a vagabond he had seen women who were taken captive by the Indians. They did not want to return to their previous life once they had lived among the red man. He did not understand it. However, for the woman once she had lived among the red man she was better off staying with them. They would not be readily accepted by the white race once they had so closely associated with the Indians, especially in an intimate way.
He thought at first that he should be very honest with Jeremiah and Philip about likelihood of their request. He was good at reading people. These men were willing to take that chance in the hopes of finding Rebecca. Even had he been fortunate enough to find her, the chances of getting her back to Boston were slim to none. He decided to leave that information to himself. The Butlers were a good source of income and they were apparently despondent.
“I know it will be difficult to find her, so we are willing to pay,” Philip said.
“It must be $3000.00,” Fletcher said without hesitation.
Jeremiah played his only card. “That will be the price if you bring her back alive.”
The sight of this man repulsed him.
“So what happens if I find her and I cannot bring her back?” he smiled. “Sometimes those Injuns are not too happy to give up a good white woman.”
The thought made Jeremiah sick. He wanted to kill him for even speaking such horrors.
Fletcher knew he was pushing Jeremiah. “What I mean is that I need to get paid for my time, no matter what the outcome. I am sure you understand. You are a business man.”
“Please don’t put us at the same level. However you hold all of the cards and I tell you that there will be a bonus if she is to return to us safely. It will be $2000.00 if you find her and $3000.00 if you bring her back alive.”
“Deal” Fletcher said as he extended his hand.
Jeremiah could not bring himself to shake his hand. He turned his chair to look out the window.
When Fletcher left Jeremiah turned to his son. “I don’t want to know how you found him but I hope he is as good as you say he is.”
Philip looked out the window. “I assure you he is.”
~21~
The Frail Winter Rose
Rose was in the early weeks of her pregnancy when she began to complain of constant headaches. Their physician assured her that it was just the normal symptoms of pregnancy. One night Rose had a fever that made her so ill she could not move out of bed. Philip would not accept that this as normal. He sent for the doctor and he came to the house immediately.
Philip was in the office with Jeremiah and Mrs. Walters as they waited impatiently to hear of her condition. The doctor entered the room.
“I need to see you, Mr. Butler.”
The doctor headed to the stairs leaving no doubt to the seriousness of the situation. Philip followed him upstairs and into their room. Rose was lying in bed. The color had left her face. She was not conscience.
Philip was shaking as the doctor pulled back the sheets. He lifted the nightgown that Rose was wearing. On her hip was what looked to be a sore? It was dark brown in color.
Philip drew back and sat for a moment. He knew in his heart what it was but did not want to accept it. He questioned the doctor. “What is that?”
The doctor replaced the gown and looked at Philip. “Mr. Butler, it is smallpox.”
Philip, refusing to believe what he just heard, asked an obvious question. “Will it harm the baby?” He could not fathom it taking her life.
The doctor nodded. He gave Philip instructions on her care and quarantined the house.
Philip kept a vigil over Rose for the following week. He would not allow anyone in the room and would only open it to receive food and do the minimum necessities to care for himself.
He slept on the floor next to his wife when she was relaxed enough to sleep. When she would thrash with fever he would hold her in a futile attempt to comfort her. Jeremiah and Mrs. Walters were concerned for his health as well as their own. Smallpox was a vicious killer that was highly contagious.
Philip grew weary over the week but would not leave her side. He did not eat or sleep unless Rose was unconscious. There was little he could do but wait helplessly as the disease took the life of his wife and unborn child.
Just before dawn on the sixth day Rose seemed to have a moment when she was without pain or fever. She looked into the eyes of her husband. He had not seen her lucid since she was diagnosed. For a moment he thought a miracle had occurred and she was cured.
“Philip I could not have been blessed with a better husband. I love you.” With a smile on her face she took her last breath.
For a fleeting moment Philip was relieved to have her at peace. Then the reality of his loss set in. He held her close to him and sobbed. It was several hours before he would tell his father that he had lost his wife.
~
Days later, Philip sat motionless in the chair in his room. The servants were busy taking things from the room and burning them. It was a miracle that no one else in the house had caught the dreaded disease. Philip had for a time wished he had. It would have been better than the pain and emptiness that now engulfed him.
~22~
The Quest to Find Rebecca
Sarah and Robert had settled in a region that was later known as Oregon. They had found that most of the tribes were peaceful and even traded with them regularly. With the threat of the white man entering their territory most Indians were guarded. There were some that broke away from their tribes and went out on their own to fight against the white man, any white man.
White Thunder was a warrior who with a few others had formed a renegade tribe. There were three of them. They also traveled in the company of a white man. They would rob and kill. They were happy to let the peaceful Indians take the blame for what they did. In reality they did not have any association with any tribe.
~
Seth Michaels was a deaf child who lived with his parents on the land that was next to Sarah and Robert. He would often visit. One day he was just outside their land in the tall grass when he stood frozen at the sight.
Sarah had just fed her son Luke. She was hanging some laundry out to dry. Robert was building a wooden shed.
It happened suddenly and without warning. The renegade troop, complete with war paint, surrounded the cabin. They had approached silently and there was no way for Robert to protect himself or his family. One of the four struck Robert from behind, killing him instantly. He did not have time to warn his wife.
Sarah heard a noise and turned to investigate. She saw the gruesome sight of her husband being scalped.
“Oh my God!” was all she could manage to utter.
She began to run for her child. She was struck in the back with a tomahawk.
The other two renegades were in the house. One was laying grass and straw on the floor as he ransacked the house. They were not aware of the infant sleeping in the next room.
The other man noticed a flowered bag lying on the floor. He picked it up because he saw the shiny metal of a pocket watch. He also saw a wooden box that might contain something of value. He could not carry much and they wanted to leave before anyone discovered them. In his haste he flung the bag over his shoulder and set the house ablaze.
Within seconds they were gone.
Seth witnessed the entire massacre. He was scared but felt he had to help them. When he arrived it did not take long to realize that Sarah and Robert were dead. He saw the house in flames and knew that the baby must be inside.
He acted quickly and took a blanket off the line. He wet it and ran into the house. He found Luke. He took him into his arms and put the blanket over the two of
them. He ran from the house with the screaming infant to the arms of his mother in the house next door.
Once the renegades were far from the house they looked over the spoils. The white man knew that the pocket watch was of value and tired to put it in his pocket. When White Thunder saw this he became very angry. He pulled out his gun and killed him without giving it a second thought. He took the bag for himself.
~
Fletcher made it to the west coast in less than six months. He was discouraged at not finding any sign of Rebecca Butler. He thought he had seen just about every tribe there was in the Plaines. He had seen some white women in camps but they did not turn out to be Rebecca. He had not had been able to locate the Crow. They were not as numerous as the other tribes. They had unknowingly eluded him. He would have to locate them somehow when he made his way east.
He sat in a saloon and tried to forget his misfortune over a bottle of whiskey.
Sitting next to him were three men who were very inebriated. They were looking through a flowered sack that one had just purchased from an Indian. One held up a jewelry box. It was made of wood and quite small. It held some hair clips. Then one of them pulled out a watch. It was gold and quite expensive.
“Well look at this!” said one of the men.
“Those Indians don’t know what real value is!”
Fletcher looked at the watch. He could see an engraving on the watch. It looked as though there might be the initials PB.
“Can I see that watch?” he asked.
“You can see it if you buy it!”
Fletcher took a chance thinking it might be a clue. He gave them a few silver pieces that Jeremiah had advanced to him. The value of the silver was much more than the contents of the bag.
“Sure,” they readily agreed.
“Where did you get it?” he questioned.
“Some Indian,” was the only reply.
Once they had left, Fletcher looked inside the bag. There was a jewelry box that had an engraving. It had the initials MB. He was not sure but with the watch having PB and the box MB he was sure he had something that may have belonged to Rebecca. It was just a hunch. There was not much to base it on; however most of Fletcher’s work depended on hunches. Maybe if he had this when he finally found Rebecca, it would be a way of identifying her. If these things did belong to her, he would have proved that he had found her. No one would be more surprised than he if he found her and returned to Boston with Rebecca. What Jeremiah and Philip wanted was a long shot.
That was not Fletcher Stone’s concern. He wanted his bounty and the most he could get from the affluent Butlers. If he had something that they knew had belonged to Rebecca, then they could be sure he had found the heir to the Butler fortune.
~23~
Rebecca’s Choice
It was late August, time for the yearly Pow-wow. I knew that Tiponi wanted to have that time to enjoy himself. He was making our sessions longer in order to tell me the entire story. I looked forward to our gatherings and felt like part of the Butler family and the Crow Indian tribe.
Jack had been going into town to use the business center. He did not have a heavy load since my interest in the firm kept him quite busy. I would spend most of the day writing and when he got home the plan was to be with him. It had not been working out quite that way. I began to feel guilty about neglecting Jack. Tonight would be different. Before Jack arrived I put the Butlers and the Crow Indians to rest for the night. Tomorrow was another day. I showered and put on a new skirt that I had purchased at the dry goods store on the reservation. They had received new merchandise in anticipation of the visitors for the Pow-wow. I also picked up some candles.
It was a lace skirt, not transparent but sheer enough to give the illusion that I wanted. I put on my strapless pink top, the one that Jack loved. I waited for him to return. I had some wine poured and the candles were lit.
He walked in and sat down. He looked pleased to see me dressed and away from the laptop. He did not say too much. He just smiled. “I thought you would be staring at the computer screen when I got here.”
I put my hands on his shoulders and began to massage. He groaned and relaxed his head.
“I have a surprise for you.” I said in a low and inviting tone. “Tomorrow the festival begins, we will be so busy and it will be loud. How about a night in the mountains?”
He nodded in agreement, I was close to his ear and I could tell his amorous side was well in gear.
“Hmmm, that sounds like a plan!” He pulled me into his lap. “It might bring out the beast in me,” he said as he bit my neck.
“Promise?” I played along.
We took the bike to the mountains, Cosette following behind on foot. She liked the run.
~
We made a campfire and soaked in the late evening sun. Sunset would not be until almost nine. It was quiet and serene. After we ate Jack stood up and pulled me toward him. He began to dance without music. Then he began to sing one of my favorite tunes. Jack had a sexy voice and he would occasionally sing to me. I loved it. He twirled me to ‘The Nearness of You.’ It felt like a scene from a romantic movie. However, unlike a movie, I almost fell on him when I lost my balance while dancing. He did not miss a beat. He smiled; he was used to my clumsiness. At times he even found it endearing that is when he was not laughing. He continued to serenade me, holding on to my hand.
As the sunset in a panoramic view of the beautiful Montana sky Jack held me close to him. I never remember being happier. Off in the distance I could hear the sound of the drums.
~
Running Wolf and Rebecca were standing on one of the highest bluffs of the mountain. They had made this place their own. They could hear the drums beating in unison to welcome the yearly festival. They held each other as they looked on the village below in anticipation of the reuniting of the families.
It was customary for the tribes not to get too large. It was much more difficult to move and feed a large group. When the tribe reached more than one hundred it would divide. Every year after the long winter, at the first thunder, they would gather to have festivities. It made the separation much easier when they knew that there would be a reunion every year.
Rebecca was happy that she felt differently about her new life. She could enjoy the celebration. In fact Rebecca was more than happy.
Once Rebecca had given into her life with the Crow she found a whole new side of Running Wolf as well. The first thing he did was to teach her how to swim. To her husband this was basic. It took a lot of patience on his part. They laughed when Rebecca would immediately drop into the water when he let go, while teaching her to wade. He did not stop until she became a strong swimmer. Running Wolf had patiently taught Rebecca how to use a bow and arrow, just because she requested it of him. The playful side of Running Wolf was the most complimentary to the personality of the somewhat rebellious yet exuberant Rebecca.
She found him to be good-natured and even romantic. How foolish she had been in her safe haven in Boston. She knew of Indians but did not give them the benefit of having the same emotions as she. She saw how sensitive they were when she saved the drowning child and how compassionate when she and Running Wolf had lost Fallen Sparrow.
As much as Rebecca loved the people she lived with there was a cultural difference. Life with the Indians was poles apart from what she had ever known. When she chose to become his wife she had to adjust to things that she hoped in time she would understand. It was a peaceful lifestyle for the most part. A simple life not tainted by the ostentatiousness in which she was raised. As time progressed, she was amazed how little she missed it.
She did what she could to be a full member of the tribe. She allowed Running Wolf to be the husband he was raised to be. Because the hair was of such importance in the Crow culture, it was the responsibility of the husband to comb and take care of his wife’s hair. It was obvious by the appearance of the woman how well her husband took care of her. Rebecca always had her hair beautifully com
bed.
Rebecca became a wife that Running Wolf grew to adore.
She learned how to tan hides and cook. She was responsible for the lodge, which included assembling and disassembling it during a move. She was proud to keep it clean and tended to a fire in the center.
She asked Rides With Fury to help her learn the Crow language. It did not take Rebecca very long to learn. She caught on quickly and it helped her to feel more a part of the clan. She found a whole new world as she learned more about it. Rebecca would still read her Bible so that she did not lose her native language.
Rides With Fury was her mentor and bridge when she would have difficulty understanding things. There was not the language barrier with him. He would help her though what would seem to be impossible situations. She could talk to him for hours on end and never tire of his stories or wisdom. He had a clear grasp of both cultures.
He too had grown fond of Rebecca. He was convinced as time went on how accurate his interpretation was in regard to the vision of Running Wolf. Rides With Fury believed in his heart that The Mourning Dove was truly a gift from the Creator.
Running Wolf in turn was interested in learning English. It was not necessary but he did to become closer to Rebecca. He also knew that with the coming of the white man education was the key for the Indian. They could not hide and pretend there would not be changes someday. He knew this from his dream. It was a tragedy that he regretted but could see coming.
Running Wolf wanted to know how Rebecca grew up and what she liked about her childhood. He would question her as to how she could live such a simple life after having all the luxuries. In time she showed him that what he had given her in a secure and faithful love could not be found in marble staircases or an affluent lifestyle.
In respecting their differences they were able to build a solid relationship. There were times of culture shock on the part of both. When they lost Fallen Sparrow they had come to rely on each other emotionally. This bond was the foundation that kept them strong.
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