Forever Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  “No time.” Clay responded. “I took care of business with Jim fast because Farley was getting ready to pull out when I arrived. Jim pointed him out to me, but he didn’t know who Farley met or if he met with anyone. I hurried because I wanted to make sure I didn’t lose sight of him.”

  “That was smart, but I wish one of us knew something about Bart.”

  “What does Jim say about him?”

  “Not much more than he’s mean, tough, tight-lipped, and hates Indians. His name on that land-buying list doesn’t mean much if we can’t tie him to the trouble. Talking with Zeke and Farley isn’t a crime and can’t be used as evidence. My gut instinct says there’s an important reason why Bart was contacted so fast. Maybe he’s the leader we’re after. He’s certainly in a position to know the movements of the Army and the Indians. He’s also sitting in the right saddle to use hired soldiers to frame Red Hearts for raids he’s investigating. Besides, who would suspect an Army officer of instigating an Indian uprising? Or of being Snake-Man? Damn,” Joe muttered, “just what we don’t need, another suspect as boss.”

  “What if Farley only went to fort to see if we go there to tell Army about the guns and our attack?” Morning Star speculated, and Joe nodded.

  “Makes sense,” Clay remarked. “Anyhow, Zeke and Farley took a keelboat upriver. I rode along the bank to make sure they didn’t get off anyplace. When I reached Orin McMichael’s, they were there. So was a man called George, but he wasn’t in uniform. He stayed hidden except to sneak out at night to catch air, take a smoke, and use the little house. I watched the post for two days. It’s real busy this time of year; lots of men were around. Those three were staying in Orin’s house. They looked pretty settled in for a while, so I left yesterday to ride here to leave you a message. I was planning on heading back in the morning to watch them. Seems to me they’re meeting with their boss, Orin McMichael.”

  Joe pondered those facts. “But Orin has red hair,” he told Clay, “Knife-Slayer said Snake-Man’s is black. But if Orin isn’t working with those villains, why would they be meeting there and staying in his home?”

  “He looked at me as the boss Clem…” Morning Star reminded.

  “Described,” Joe filled in for her. “If Snake-Man has a craving for young Indian girls like Clem said, Orin would fit that. Simon Adams certainly doesn’t keep any around.”

  “If Orin has magic balls to use,” Morning Star suggested, “maybe he has a way to make his hair black to fool everyone. Snake-Man has many tricks.”

  “You’re right,” Joe said, excited and pleased. “It fits together perfectly. All three suspects are there with their boss. It has to be Orin. Zeke and Farley thought they’d throw any pursuer off their trail by using a boat to leave Pierre. They know we can’t come around without being recognized. They think they’re safe to come and go as they please now. As for George Hollis, that deserter has to stay hidden a while.”

  “It does fit, Joe. It must be McMichael. That means he knows you two from your visit there. But he doesn’t know me. I’ll head back in the morning and see what more I can learn.”

  “That’s good, Clay. We’ll ride to Fort Tabor and share our conclusions with Jim. As soon as we leave him a message, we’ll sneak to meet you.” Joe described the safest location to join up near Orin’s post.

  As the three headed out for their separate tasks, they did not know that the men they sought were in Pierre and plotting worse mischief…

  Saturday, Clay reached Orin’s, to discover all three suspects were gone. He surmised they had taken a boat downriver. He headed back to warn the couple of approaching peril.

  By Sunday evening, Joe and Morning Star found a concealed location on the White River near the fort and made camp. At dawn, they would head for Orin’s trading post to rejoin Clay Thorne in a few days.

  Joe rode to the message tree, where he found a missive from Captain Thomas and another letter from home. Knowing Morning Star was safe in the dense treeline and on alert, he decided to open both there, in case either related bad news. Morning Star was sensitive to his moods and expressions, and he didn’t want to worry her. He focused on the note first and smiled as he learned that Stede, Tom, and troops were coming from Fort Laramie. As the date for the proposed treaty council was approaching, they wanted to help settle the problem here as quickly as possible. They were expected to arrive in two weeks. Joe frowned as he read that Bart was acting strange and might suspect Jim of working with Joe. Jim warned the couple to be on guard until help arrived.

  Joe hoped Jim would visit the exchange spot either tonight or early tomorrow so they could talk. If not, Jim would find his message soon and would mail the concealed letter to his parents.

  After Joe ripped open the letter from his mother, he realized it was a response to his mid-June one about more news of Morning Star and his work here. When Annabelle wrote her letter, she hadn’t known about his early July revelation of love and marriage. By now, his family knew everything, and probably another letter was on the way to congratulate him.

  Joe was glad his mother understood the hunger in him, his search for something he hadn’t quite been able to comprehend or explain. She grasped how exciting and fulfilling his mission was. Best of all, she had convinced his father of those truths. That made Joe happy, as he deeply loved and respected both his parents. He laughed aloud when his mother teased him about soon losing his heart to the Indian beauty who obviously had stolen his eye, especially since he had guarded them so well for twenty-eight years. It no longer amazed Joe that Annabelle was so perceptive and intuitive, as was Morning Star. He knew the two women, along with his sister, would become fast friends.

  Yet Joe detected a subtle coaxing for him to return home as soon as possible, and he pondered if something was wrong there. He was eager to see them all again. Those yearnings increased as he envisioned his parents. Their mental images revealed they were older than Joe had realized before this reflective moment.

  Suddenly he was anxious to spend time with them before it was too late. Perhaps advancing age and declining health were the real reasons his father had urged him not to make this journey and to take control of the shipping business this year. Joe had not considered those possibilities before, and his proud father would never admit them. Yes, he needed to go home as soon as he settled matters here.

  Those worries evoked a need to be near the woman he loved, who would share his life as the first Joseph had Annabelle’s. He pocketed the letter and note, then mounted to get back to her.

  Morning Star sensed her love’s serious mood. When she questioned him, Joe told her about the letter from home and its effect on him. “It is good they understand why you came here and why you must stay until the sacred mission is done. It is good to love and miss family, to have a strong bond. It is good they do not warn you to not love me. I will learn fast and make them proud of me. I will not dishonor you or your family.”

  Joe pulled her into his arms to hug and kiss her. “I love you, woman.”

  “I love you,” she responded before their lips meshed. Morning Star was relieved by the news from Joe’s mother. She could relax now, knowing they would accept and help her. She prayed her family would be as kind and understanding, and feared they would not.

  Joe and Morning Star did not break camp before they heard a loud noise—the sound of many horses galloping northward from the fort on a worn trail. He told her to stay hidden while he investigated. With his fieldglasses, Joe saw that Captain James Thomas was not with the troop; rather the man leading it was burly, brown-haired, and wearing sergeant’s stripes.

  A homesteader in a wagon came along, obviously leaving the sutler’s store after spending the night at the fort. Joe halted him and queried the commotion so early in the day.

  “Captain Thomas and a deserter were killed yesterday. Sergeant Carnes said it was the work of an outlaw named Joseph Lawrence and his renegade squaw. Woodhawks saw ’em canoeing upriver toward Pierre. He’s gone to pursue ’em and cap
ture ’em. I hope he catches ’em fast. We don’t need no murderers and savages causing more trouble in these parts.”

  Joe concealed his shock. “Thanks, friend. Did Bart say what this Lawrence looks like? I don’t want to run in to him by mistake.”

  “Nope, but he knows him. He’s heading upriver, so this area’s safe.”

  “Much obliged,” Joe said, and watched the men leave.

  He rejoined Morning Star and gave her the distressing news about Jim’s murder, George’s death, and the stunning accusation against them. He saw the panic in her eyes and cuddled her close to him. “I love you, woman. I promise I won’t let anyone harm you.”

  “It is bad, Joe. What will we do?” she asked, worried.

  “I bet anything Bart killed both of them, and he’s using the Army and that fake charge to kill us. That’s probably what Farley came to tell him. Nobody saw us going upriver, so that was a lie. But what’s behind it? Bart has to be going to join up with Zeke and Farley in Pierre. George must have come downriver by boat after Clay left Orin’s. I bet Zeke and Farley are on the move, too. That means Clay should be back near Pierre. Something’s bad wrong, love. I have to follow that patrol to see who Bart meets. You’ll go home while Clay and I settle this. I don’t want you in any more danger.”

  Morning Star embraced Joe and refused. “No, I stay with you. If soldiers, Crow, and bad men are looking for us, I am safe with you.”

  Joe held her in his arms as they drew comfort and courage from each other. This mission was more dangerous than he ever imagined it could be when he started it with Tanner. The villains were determined to stop them any way possible. Joe wondered if they would be called upon to sacrifice their lives for peace. He asked himself if it was his duty to continue, if it was his war, his fate, a reason for both of them to lose their lives. They had given this task their best efforts. Why couldn’t they just accept they were battling overwhelming odds and retreat? Why couldn’t they just leave the perils and sacrifices behind and ride away to Virginia? He knew why not. Morning Star would never give up this sacred task and ride away at this point in time; she would never desert her family, tribe, and vision orders. That meant he could not leave her in danger or risk losing her. Besides, so much was at stake, and he had made himself a part of this situation. They couldn’t quit now; they had come too far in solving this mystery. “All right, love, you come with me; it’s safer. We’ll free the packhorse here and get rid of any extra supplies. We can’t be slowed down if we’re sighted and have to run for our lives. First, we need to retrieve my message to Jim and my letter to Mother.”

  Joe and Morning Star hid the horses behind a hillock and lay on their stomachs at its crest. From their distant and lofty position, they had time to flee to safety and had a view of the trail to the post. They could see who came and went from Pierre after Bart and his patrol entered the settlement, if the men came by land. Suddenly, they were using the river for speed and for secrecy in movement. That worried him, because they could not track men in boats or keep up with crafts from horseback.

  They waited and watched for hours. The late-July sun seared down on them. So vital was their task that they ignored their discomforts. At last, dusk appeared with its darkening and cooling shadows.

  Joe continuously scanned the landscape with his fieldglasses. He sighted their new partner coming from Pierre. “It’s Clay. Too far for shouting. I don’t want to ride out and meet him. If anyone comes by, I don’t want us seen together. How can I signal him?” he wondered aloud.

  “Flaming arrow,” Morning Star suggested.

  “Let me see if anyone else will sight it,” he murmured, searching the terrain through the fieldglasses. “Looks all right. Let’s do it.”

  Joe used a safety match to light the cloth wrapped around the arrowhead. Morning Star fired it into the air at a southeast angle. Joe saw Clay’s head follow the fiery shaft’s flight, then retrace its path. He watched the man think a moment, then ride to where the arrow landed.

  Clay poured water from his canteen onto the burning rag to prevent a prairie fire. He studied his surroundings and figured it was safe to check out the unusual message. He hoped he was right about who sent it.

  When the half-Cheyenne warrior dismounted behind the hillock, he didn’t smile. “Big trouble, you two.”

  “We know. We trailed Bart’s patrol from Fort Tabor. The bastard murdered Jim and George and framed us. Did you see who he met?”

  “Yep, Zeke and Farley. But you’ve got more trouble than that; Simon Adams is dead. Those snakes must have left Orin’s while I was camped with you. Somehow they lured Adams away from the post and into an ambush. He was found shot not far away in a wagon with guns and whiskey— not many, just enough to make their point. Charge is, you came here after killing Jim and George at Tabor to silence your partner in crime.”

  “That’s crazy! They can’t prove I was anywhere near Pierre.”

  “Problem is,” Clay informed them, “he had a letter on him to you, Joe, about how good your plan to provoke the Sioux against the Crow and whites was going. They were smart; they had Simon write it. They checked his script against the post’s books. I don’t know if they forced him or he worked with them or if he just joined up with them. Those are some powerful charges against you two. With Jim gone, you don’t have any protection now. With Bart in control and working with the villains, you two should hide for a while, but not in your camp, Morning Star. If the Army finds you there, your people will be in great danger.”

  Joe told his new friend about Jim’s message saying help was on the way. “All we have to do is stay out of their sights until it arrives. Now that we know who Snake-Man is and who’s working for him, I have a scheme for entrapping that bastard and his gang. While we fetch something we need to make it work, you watch for Stede and the soldiers near Fort Tabor. Try to catch them before Bart and the others know they’re in the territory. We need secrecy for my plan to work.” He explained it to Clay and Morning Star. She smiled and nodded agreement.

  But Clay ventured, “What if Jim never got his message sent? What if the soldier he assigned to deliver it is one of Snake-Man’s boys? Or what if he never reaches Fort Laramie? Lots of dangers between here and there. Besides, what you’ve got in mind is risky. Crazy,” he added.

  Before dawn, Joe gave Clay a letter to mail home, addressed to his sister to pass through Pierre, changing his contact to Stede. He told his family he would finish his mission and leave here in six to eight weeks. The couple headed west to fetch an item needed to carry out their daring plan.

  Clay, who would leave soon, watched them ride away. He shook his head. If Joe’s plan didn’t get them killed, the forces after them might. All they could all do was hope that help was on the way.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week later at Slim Buttes, Joe and Morning Star spied on Black Moon’s camp from a rock formation near the site. The invisible new moon allowed them to get close without being seen. Many campfires illuminated the Crow area enough to see what was taking place.

  They had ridden fast and hard to carry out their hazardous task, the August days providing long hours of needed daylight. They had stayed on full alert, but confronted no peril during the arduous journey.

  They were glad sunset had released them from the demands of the summer heat. The area needed rain, and they would welcome its cooling effect. The ground was dry and hard. Prairie grasses had changed to shades of yellow, tan, and gold. Some had withered, but most were of hearty varieties well suited to this climate. Animals were still abundant, as if no tribe had slaughtered many for winter rations.

  The camp beyond them was busy and noisy. Two wagons stood to its right with four white strangers. Women and children rummaged contents of crates and cloth sacks. Indian men were in a section of trees to the left, guzzling the recently arrived whiskey and examining the trinkets.

  “Must be those four men who escaped our attack at Rake’s Hollow,” Joe whispered. “Looks as if Orin has
sent plenty of firewater and gifts to settle them down until more guns and ammunition arrive.”

  Morning Star concurred with his conclusions. She listened to the drumming that provided music for the drunken warriors to dance to. The braves moved about as they laughed, shared tall tales of past exploits, and boasted of future raids on the Lakotas. Such bloody plans had to be prevented, even at the cost of her life. She didn’t know how either or both of them could get to the chief to steal the watch Orin had given to him, the bait needed to lure their foe into Joe’s clever trap. She invoked the Great Spirit’s help, guidance, and protection.

  After two hours of drinking and merrymaking, Black Moon staggered to a fallen tree, sank to the ground, and rested his head against it. He appeared to be dazed or asleep. Every so often, a few women brought over food, delivered more whiskey in buffalo paunches, and obeyed other orders.

  Morning Star recognized the opportunity the Great Spirit had placed before her eyes. As was common on such an occasion, where food and drink were in such wild abundance, the men paid little attention to the females serving their needs. “I will cover my hair and shoulders with a blanket to hide my face and Arapaho markings,” she told Joe. “I can sneak to Black Moon, pretend to help him, and take the possession we need.”

  “It’s too dangerous. You’ll be in the middle of those crazy warriors.”

  Morning Star knew the risk she would be taking. She was scared, but confident. “I will be careful. He is away from the others. Women come and go. It is the only path to victory. I must walk it, fast and alone.”