When Joe sent her a quizzical look for her long and silent study, she grinned and teased, “Very good decision. You plenty smart, Joe Lawrence.”
They traveled as fast as possible for two days. At night, they took guard shifts once more. Early Saturday morning, the apprehensive couple rode to Lookout, a trading post owned by the Columbia Fur Company. It was not busy, as the keelboat had stopped here first and trappers hadn’t arrived yet.
This time, Morning Star remained with the horses while Joe went to purchase “gifts” for the Crow. She was tense the entire time he was gone, and strove to keep herself on full alert. This was their last stop in a white settlement, at least for a while. She was glad. She wanted to return to the Plains and forests and hills where she felt at home and safe. She struggled not to think of the people who were depending upon her to guide their destinies in the right direction and who were depending upon her to remain true to her heritage and customs.
Morning Star confessed she had tried but failed to keep to the last part. By now, being with Joseph Lawrence was as natural and vital as breathing. Their love was the food upon which her spirit survived and grew. Her life would never be the same after his inevitable departure. She could never yield to another man after being with Joe. Without that part of life, she would bear no children. Perhaps, she ventured, the loss of a true love was why Buckskin Girl had never joined another! But her friend had never mentioned a lost loved one.
Lost…Forever… Those words cut into her soul with a white-hot knife that seared her from head to toe with burning wounds. It was a fact she could not leave with Joe. It was a fact he could not remain with her. But it was possible to have him and love him until this sacred mission ended, one way or another. Payaba’s vision had claimed that would be in glorious victory, so she must not be so afraid. Yet, her faith lagged on occasion. She felt that surely the Great Spirit understood and forgave human frailty. Surely He would not allow her weakness to endanger—
A mule brayed loudly in the corral, jerking Morning Star back to reality. She scolded herself for such a terrible loss of attention. Her dulled wits could get them killed. She commanded herself back to full alert.
Inside the trading post, Joe chatted with Harvey Meade. He had met the perky fellow on his visit with Tanner. So far, nothing looked or sounded suspicious. Joe used the same strategy as at the other posts; it appeared to work again. He was told Zeke headed for Pierre on Monday.
“I must have missed him on the trail. I think I’ll do some looking around before I try to catch up with him again.” Noticing the manager’s reaction, he took a risk by adding, “Or maybe I won’t try to herd up with Zeke. From what I hear about him, that could be a mistake. I just thought I shouldn’t work this territory without checking him out first, as most folks act like he runs it. I’m not a coward, but he sounds like the kind who’d be riled and dangerous if pushed.” Joe was delighted when Harvey responded favorably to his deceit.
“You’d be smart to avoid him, Joe. He’s trouble, the kind we don’t need here. You mentioned ranching and settling down,” the post manager began. “Didn’t Simon tell you about the Pre-Emption Homestead Law?” When Joe shook his head, the short man explained, “It’s been in effect since ’41. You can purchase up to one hundred sixty acres of land at a dollar-twenty-five per acre in many locations of this territory. Best place to check which areas are for sale is at Fort Laramie. That’s where most territorial business is carried out and where the Indian agent stays. I know Simon’s purchased a tract and bought a couple off other fellows. If you asked me, he used them as go-betweens to get his hands on more land. After this area opens up, they’ll be worth a lot more money. Others have bought up tracts, too. Me included.”
“Our government claims they own it,” Harvey continued, “bought it from the French, so I guess they have the right to sell parcels. They’ve even paid more dollars to some tribes to avoid conflicts. I guess I shouldn’t feel guilty over the Dakotas’ claims they still own it. If I hadn’t bought my parcel, some other man would. It’s on the James River, east of here. As soon as I’m sure of a real treaty, I plan to build on it and farm the land.”
“Sounds like a good opportunity to me. I’m surprised that Simon didn’t tell me about the Pre-Emption Law. I’m also surprised he’s buying up land. It’s odd he would stay here since he makes no secret of his hatred for Indians. Must have been something real bad to cause such feelings.”
Harvey glanced around to make sure no one was coming inside the post. “It was,” he confided. “When Simon first came here a few years back, his keelboat was attacked by marauding Indians; his wife was killed and he was robbed clean by Oglalas. He intended to open a trading post, but lost everything. He survived by slipping over the rail, swimming underwater, and hiding in bank brush. Everybody aboard was killed; even three women were raped and murdered. That was strange, because Indians usually take them captive. Law figured they were in a hurry and didn’t want to be slowed by prisoners. Evidence said they were Red Heart warriors. I don’t have to tell you that Simon was consumed by hatred and a hunger for revenge; but there was nothing he could do to find and punish the guilty ones. I was sure they were only renegades, but he wasn’t. Still isn’t. He had to go to work for Pratte for survival money. Believe me, he didn’t take to being a hired hand instead of an owner and boss. Sticks in his craw; so does running away and leaving his wife to suffer and die. I can’t fault him there; wasn’t anything he could do to save her or the others. I think he’s only working Pratte’s until he earns enough to get out on his own again. I bet that land he bought is for a post. Sad how cruel fate changes a man. ’Course, I don’t know what he was like before coming here. But now—”
Harvey listened and looked for arrivals once more. “I hear he sells bloody souvenirs behind his boss’s back. Bernard Pratte would be furious; he’s a good and honest man. It’s the worst thing any man could do to cause more trouble. All it does is provoke scoundrels to rob scaffolds and ambush Indians for goods to sell him. I hear he sells Indians guns and whiskey, too, but I’ve never witnessed it with my own eyes, just overheard trappers whispering. It’s wrong, and it’s against the law. If everybody would take it slow and easy, we could have peace here. If we give the Indians time to get used to us, expand real slow and careful, they’d accept us.”
“You ever mentioned this to your company or the Army?” Joe asked.
An expression akin to sheer terror filled Harvey’s face and enlarged his eyes. In a quavering voice, he vowed, “I don’t interfere because I don’t want Simon riled at me. He’s the kind of man who would make a bad enemy if you crossed him. He’s tight with that Zeke Randall.”
“Don’t worry, Harvey, my mouth won’t open to the wrong ears. I don’t want Simon and Zeke gunning for me, either. It’ll be our secret. I’m going to skip looking up Zeke and head on to the Plains. I’ll need plenty of gifts to make friends with the Indians. I want to see for myself if trouble’s brewing. If it is, I bet Zeke has his hands in it.”
“You can win that bet, Joe. I’ll get the usual trinket sack ready. You can check it over and pay me.”
“Thanks, I’m sure you know what the Indians like.” As Joe waited and looked around, he sighted an interesting object. He questioned Harvey Meade about it, then purchased the enchanting item.
It was dark, as they had ridden as long as possible before stopping to camp. Without wasting time and energy, they tended the three horses, prepared a hot meal, and settled down to rest.
“You think Meade say— said— those things about Zeke and Simon to point eyes to them?” Morning Star asked. “Take eyes from him?”
Joe mused on her question. “I don’t think so. He’s too short. In all honesty, I’m not sure whom I trust. For all I know, Zeke could be doing a side business with Simon on those souvenirs. In view of what happened to Simon years ago, it’s not unusual for him to be filled with bitterness and hatred.”
“My people do not slay women and children.”
>
He smiled at her and said, “I know. I’m just wondering if Snake-Man was here and working before Simon’s arrival or if it was only renegades. It could be that our villain has no connection to any of the trading posts.”
“Where would villain live?”
“Could be on a farm or homestead. Could be a camp along the river.”
“Could be at fort,” she amended, looking worried.
“Perhaps, but I doubt it. I think it’s too big a plan for a soldier.”
“You look good at fort when arrive… tomorrow,” she cautioned.
“I think it’s best if we stop by Tabor and see Captain Thomas. We’re close, and it’s been a while since I reported my finds to him. I can send a message to Stede and the Indian agent at Laramie. I’ll write it up at first light. I’ll send my family a letter, too. Let them know I’m all right.”
“Our families worry about us.”
“At least you’ll get to see yours soon. It’s been a long time since I saw mine. I miss them, more than I realized I would. I hope my father’s settled down by now. He was against my coming here. I’m sure Mother’s done plenty of talking to him; she has a special way with him. With luck, he’ll listen to her this time; she understood why I had to leave. So did my sister. You’d like my mother and Sarah Beth.” He smiled. “I bet Lucas is growing like a spring weed. Little boys change fast at four.”
Morning Star didn’t want to discuss or think about the strong family ties that would soon take Joseph Lawrence from her side and life. Nor did she want to ponder her own. She wished she and Joe were a family and had a future together. That could never be, and it tormented her.
Joe sensed her warring emotions and let the melancholy topic die. “We’d best get to sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day.”
Joe’s report and letter home were finished. Breakfast was over, all chores were done, and the horses were saddled. Their weapons and supplies were loaded and their canteens were full. They would reach Fort Tabor by midmorning, if they left within a short time. By noon, they could be on the trail toward the first Crow camp.
Joe went to Morning Star and held out the gift he had purchased at the last trading post. “Remember when I told you white men can do tricks to fool people who don’t know about them?” he reminded. “This is one of them. Hold it up like this and look into that hole,” he instructed, assisting her. “See, magic can be created with tricks and skills. Keep it pointed toward bright light and turn it slowly.”
Morning Star did as he said. Her breath caught in wonder. Her hands trembled as she clasped the gift.
“It’s called a kaleidoscope. The first one was invented, created, by Sir David Brewster about thirty-five years ago. My mother loves them and collects them. Every time I sailed someplace, she’d ask me to look for a new one. She has them with beads, colored glass, pebbles, dried flowers, shells, insects, all kinds of things. Every time you move it, the pattern and colors change. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
Each rotation offered a different design and hues from the tiny specks of glass inside it. “How does it do such magic?” she asked. When she stopped turning the long tube, her eyes filled with awe.
“I’m not sure I can explain in words you’ll understand, but I’ll try. It’s an optical— that means anything to do with eyes and seeing— optical instrument. An instrument is something like a tool that does a certain task.” He motioned to areas as he explained, “There are two small mirrors at each end of the tube. Glass or whatever is used is put into a space at one end. The mirrors reflect them like water does your face when you look into a pond or river. This is the peephole, because you peep— that means, look— into it. I wish you could see my mother’s collection. The one with flowers is breathtaking, and the one with insects in almost unbelievable.”
“You give this one to me?”
“Yes.”
“What of your mother?”
“She would be happy for you to have such a special treasure.” As she held it up again, closed one eye, and peered inside, Joe watched her with joy. She was as excited as a child at Christmas. She twisted the tube many times, almost squealing with delight at each new design it made. When she lowered it, she gazed at him with gratitude and joy.
Joe saw how the tears in her eyes sparkled like dewdrops under the morning sun. Their shade of brown reminded him of the darkest band of the stripes in the carnelian and onyx he had shipped from Brazil. Her skin was as soft as the cotton raised on his family’s plantation, the color of a newborn fawn. Her hair was as black and shiny as the coal from mines back East. He recalled how, when they galloped across plains and meadows, her ebony mane spread out behind her in glorious splendor. She could not possibly know how beautiful she was, or how deeply she affected him. Being near her was paradise, and sometimes hell when he could not touch her. How, he fretted, could he return to an existence without this woman who had become a vital part of his life?
“I will protect it and love it always,” she said in her best English.
When she leaned against Joe and kissed him, his body shuddered with longing for hers. He was relieved but dismayed when they parted. If he knew they would not be distur— He warned himself not to lose control. They were too near the fort for privacy. “Let’s go,” he urged tenderly.
Morning Star comprehended his reaction, and knew how she felt, too. It was unwise to remain here any longer. “I am ready.”
Captain James Thomas was standing on the porch of his office when Joe and Morning Star rode to the hitching post before it. He looked surprised to see them, and eyed the beauty with undisguised curiosity.
The couple dismounted and secured their reins. When Joe greeted the soldier, Jim returned it, but looked rather hesitant.
“We need to talk. I have plenty to report,” Joe hinted.
“You best leave her here. It might look odd to anyone watching if she goes inside with us. No offense intended, just a precaution.”
Joe explained to his companion, who nodded. He followed Jim inside. He was a little intrigued when the officer closed the door, as the June day was warm. “What’s up?” he asked.
Jim took his seat and told Joe to do the same with the chair before his desk. “So that’s the legendary Sun Cloud’s daughter,” he remarked. “She’s beautiful. She understood you, so that means she speaks English.”
“She spoke some when I met her, and I’ve been teaching her more on the trail. This is the first chance I’ve had to report to you what I’ve learned.”
“What have you learned?” Jim propped his elbows on the desk.
“I wrote out a full report to Stede Gaston and Tom Fitzpatrick and asked them to check on a few things for me. I’d be obliged if you’d send one of your fastest and most dependable men to deliver it to Fort Laramie.”
“I have the perfect man for the job. He’s never failed me. What’s in here?” he inquired as he accepted the sealed packet Joe passed to him.
Joe told about the slaughtered Crow hunting party, with Red Heart arrows in the bodies. He revealed how they had tracked the men responsible and attacked three at Rake’s Hollow and how four others had escaped before they arrived. He explained about recovering the sacred possessions and returning them to the Oglala burial ground, and of how Crow arrows had been left there to incriminate the wrong people. He told Jim about meeting the trapper, buying his furs, then visiting Orin McMichael’s trading post. He halted his report to ask who George was.
“I don’t recall an Army scout named George with that description. Maybe he’s from Fort Laramie or Ripley or Snelling. He’s a long way from wherever he’s posted. I’ll check on him. I wonder why I wasn’t informed of his mission in my area and why he hasn’t contacted me. That’s strange, unless he’s on leave. You sure Fort Laramie or Tom didn’t put someone else on this investigation besides you?” Joe shook his head. “A corporal, you say?” Jim murmured. “No doubt he’s military?”
Joe found Jim’s lack of knowledge dismaying. “That’s what the others
told me, and the stripes he was wearing verified it. The men at Orin’s seemed to know him. Said he visits there frequently. Implied he shares his scouting reports with McMichael. But if Orin was our man and that scout’s one of his hirelings, he and George wouldn’t be so open about his visits. George knows Zeke, but so do plenty of people. Simon said Zeke is there every month, so they have a connection. That scout puzzles and worries me; but if somebody else was on this case, I’m sure they would have told me. George didn’t seem to guess who I was, but he left fast and early the next morning. I was afraid he was hooked up with Zeke and was going to warn him of me.” Joe was puzzled as to why the scout, said to be in this area often, was unknown to the officer before him.
Jim’s thoughts seemed to stray a moment as he commented, “I knew about Orin’s cannons; they’re a scare tactic. He’d never fire them. You sure those men Ephraim mentioned were the ones waiting for Zeke’s arrival?”
“I don’t know, but it made sense.”
“You best not mention them to anyone,” Jim warned. “It could appear an unprovoked attack. You only have your word about their foul deeds, which no white law considers a punishable crime. You don’t want to get into legal trouble. If I were you, I’d do my best to prevent any more attacks and killings; murder’s a serious matter.”
Joe thought Jim’s choice of words and reaction were strange. “It was all self-defense, but I can’t prove it.” He related how they visited Pierre and what was said by Simon Adams; that brought a scowl to the officer’s face. He revealed how Zeke had arrived and they had fled.
“I’ve heard rumors about Adams’ dirty dealings, but have no proof against him. I can’t act without evidence or a witness. I sure wish one or the other would step forward. That kind of thing is dangerous. If I questioned them, they’d deny it. All they’d do is be careful for a while. If you buy that stuff from Adams, you’ll be partly responsible for how he got it.”
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