* * * *
“This is the first time you’ve come to see me this week, Michael,” said Mary Ann.
Michael forced a big smile. “Sure and I have been busy, darlin’. It is only that I’m tired. Mr. Cooper is workin’ me hard to make up for the time I was away.”
“I can’t understand why you don’t just request another detail.”
“From whom? Mr. Cooper? He’d just love me to come beggin’ to him. And ye know ye can’t go over your commanding officer, Mary Ann.”
“I know. It just seems such a shame to waste you.”
“I’m just thankful it has been peaceful.”
“Are you going to be racing this week?”
“I think I’ll be giving Frost a rest and just be watching this time.”
“I have put a week’s wages down, and on an Indian, no less,” Mary Ann told him.
“Oh, so ye think Manuelito can beat Cooper and his quarter horse?”
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t any idea, Michael,” she confessed with a giggle. “I just want the lieutenant to lose.”
“If he is up against Manuelito, he probably will.”
“Let’s have our own race, Michael,” she teased, pulling him on top of her. “You are an expert rider, or so I’ve been told.”
Michael groaned and collapsed in mock exhaustion, his head on her ample breasts. “Oh, darlin’, I don’t think I’m up for any ridin’ tonight.” Or any other night, he realized. He said his good-bye, knowing that it was the last time he would be visiting Mary Ann alone. Desire and love, which had been two separate streams, were at last united in one river, which flowed only toward Elizabeth Woolcott.
Chapter Twenty-six
By Sunday, it seemed everyone, white and Navajo, had heard about the big race at noon and men were betting everything they had, money or trade goods.
Cooper’s strutting like the cock of the walk, thought Michael as he watched the man move back and forth between clusters of officers and their wives. His horse had been brushed until he shone and his mane braided with red ribbon. To tell the truth, he was a sweet mount, thought Michael, and in any other contest would likely run away with the race. But against Manuelito? The man rode like most of the Diné, as though he and the horse were one creature.
Michael made his way around the crowd to where he could see the headman and Antonio giving his pony one last going over.
“So, do ye think I’ll win my wager on ye today?” Michael asked. He didn’t know Manuelito that well, but the headman smiled at the question.
“I thought most of the bilagaana would put their money on the yellow-haired lieutenant.”
“I expect they did.”
“I think your money is safe, my friend,” said Antonio with a smile. “This is the pony he saves for the shorter races.”
“Sure, and he looks fresh and eager,” said Michael, stepping back as the pony turned to nip him.
“I apologize, Sergeant Burke,” said Manuelito with exaggerated obsequiousness belied by the glint in his eye.
“This horse of mine, he has never liked the bilagaana blue uniforms…!”
“Well, ye’d better hope he doesn’t stop to take a chink out of Cooper.”
“Manuelito can handle him,” said Antonio.
“I am sure he can. So sure in fact that I’m off to put down a wee bit more.”
As Michael moved off, Manuelito turned to Antonio and said, “I like your friend. Too bad more of them aren’t like Sergeant Burke.”
Antonio nodded.
* * * *
Elizabeth was disappointed that she only had a few minutes to say a quick hello to Serena before the races started, but she arranged to meet with her afterward. She was standing on the viewing platform with the colonel’s wife to keep her company since the colonel had been summoned to Fort Wingate.
“Have you been placing any bets, Captain Taggert?” Mrs. Gray asked.
“I have, ma’am.”
“On whom?”
“Why on Mr. Cooper, ma’am. That quarter horse of his loves the short-distance race. And Manuelito is too tall and heavy not to get in his horse’s way.”
“Is Sergeant Burke racing today?”
“I don’t think so, ma’am. I haven’t seen his horse out with the others.”
“Oh, there he is, over there next to Private Elwell.” The colonel’s wife pointed him out and Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself from looking. But why shouldn’t she look? He was a friend now. They had gotten to know one another better. She couldn’t help it if she thought him handsome. She couldn’t help remembering how it felt to fall asleep against him, or be held in his arms.
“The quarter mile is just starting,” said Taggert, and the ladies pulled their eyes from Sergeant Burke.
The first few races went well and the winners were balanced between Navajo and cavalry. Antonio, who was riding his blood bay, won his race easily, and when Elizabeth glanced in Michael’s direction, she saw that he was shouting and clapping his friend over the finish line.
It was only a few minutes before the last race of the day, the one between Manuelito and Mr. Cooper. The sun was strong, but the air was crisp and cool and as Elizabeth looked around, everyone and everything stood out vividly: the blue of the uniforms, the winking brass buttons, the bright reds of the Navajo blankets, the shiny conchos on their leggings and belts. Even Mr. Cooper’s hair had looked wheat gold in the sun as he had ridden out, she thought with a smile. What a wonderful morning.
There were three others in this race, but they might as well have been invisible. Everyone knew where the real contest lay: between Cooper’s chestnut and the Navajo’s black.
When the mirror flashed, Elizabeth could only see a cloud of dust and then the chestnut and black emerged from it, running neck and neck. There would be no hanging back and then last-minute bursts of speed; they were neck and neck all the way.
All of a sudden, Manuelito’s black veered off the track and Elizabeth could see that he was stretched over the horse’s neck. She couldn’t understand what had happened; had the horse been spooked by something? Even though his rival was no longer next to him, Cooper kept his horse at a full gallop and when he crossed the finish line, he was surrounded by soldiers clapping him and each other on the back. All of them had bet heavily and had expected a close race. The anticlimactic finish was too good to be believed.
Once Elizabeth had seen that Cooper had won, she turned her eyes to Manuelito. He pulled his horse around to the right in a tighter and tighter circle and at last had him under control. He came in at a canter and as he drew closer, a loud muttering began among the Navajo. Manuelito was only holding one rein, the right one. What remained of the left rein was hanging from his horse’s bridle. Luckily it wasn’t long enough for the gelding to trip, but it was slapping at his neck and Elizabeth could now understand how the headman had lost control.
“How could leather just snap like that,” wondered Mrs. Gray aloud.
Captain Taggert frowned. “I am afraid it must have been cut, ma’am.”
“Cut! But who would be stupid enough to do something like that?”
Elizabeth’s first thought was of Lieutenant Cooper. He already had a grudge against Manuelito and his vanity was beyond reason. But for a cavalry officer to cheat? It was unheard of.
Manuelito dismounted and his face grim, he examined the rein. He held it out to several of the men who had surrounded him and then led his horse over to the judges, followed by a large group of Navajo. It was clear that they were asking for another race and it was even clearer that the judges were denying it. Mr. Cooper finally climbed the platform and was declared the winner. When he came down and pushed his way past the gathered tribesmen, not even acknowledging Manuelito with a glance, Elizabeth thought she had never disliked anyone so much.
“The man is a fool,” said Mrs. Gray, “although I admit I shouldn’t be saying so. The least he could do is offer his sympathy to Manuelito. And the judges are acting even gre
ater fools,” she added.
Cooper’s whole company gathered around him and then two of his men lifted him up on their shoulders, starting a victory parade into the fort. It took the Navajo spectators a moment to realize what had happened: their rider’s bridle had been cut, the bilagaana judges had refused a rematch, and all of them had lost heavily, having bet everything on their headman.
It all happened so quickly that afterward Elizabeth could hardly remember the sequence. Cooper and his men had almost disappeared into the stockade when the Navajo men rushed after them, determined to recover their money. When he became aware of the commotion behind him, and without a thought to who was left outside, Cooper ordered the gates shut. As they swung closed, a few Navajo almost squeezed through. A shot rang out, and one of them fell.
The captain pulled Elizabeth and the colonel’s wife down as the gates swung open again and more shots were fired. Elizabeth watched in horror as Navajo men, women, and children scattered, some of them falling as they ran.
“My God, what are they doing,” Mrs. Gray moaned. “Everything Charles worked for is being ruined.”
Cooper had lost his mind, Elizabeth decided. Then she heard someone shouting orders, not to cease firing, but to bring out the howitzers.
* * * *
The sequence of events was just as confusing to Michael. One minute he was watching Manuelito come in with a flapping rein and the next that foolish bastard Cooper was being paraded by his even more foolish men and then all was chaos. He and Private Elwell were ordered into the fort by Captain Taggert, who had left the women and suddenly appeared in front of them.
Christ, they were in danger of being killed by their own men, he thought as they ran. The Navajo had not recovered from their shock at the sudden attack and were still running in all directions. The gates swung open again, and just as he and Elwell got inside the stockade, Cooper spotted them.
“Major Wheeler wants the howitzers brought out, Burke. The sergeant in charge is nowhere to be found so you are to bring them.”
Michael’s mouth fell open. Howitzers? They were turning it into a bloody massacre!
“Don’t just stand there like the dumb Irish ape you are, Burke. Get the goddamned howitzers.”
Elwell pulled at him and Michael followed. Followed his private and followed his orders. He had been following orders all his adult life. This was only another order. A criminal order. But the criminal was Cooper, not Michael Burke, he kept telling himself as he dragged the gun carriage. He was intent on getting them into position, not on anything else and then he heard Cooper’s voice again.
“Aim and fire, Sergeant.”
The gun was pointing out the gate. The Navajo hadn’t a prayer against a howitzer, thought Michael, paralyzed by the sight of two children off to the left whose wounded mother lay over them, too late to save them.
“I gave you an order, Sergeant. Fire.”
“I can’t, sir,” Michael stammered.
“Can’t!”
“I can’t fire on innocent women and children, sir. ‘Tis criminal.”
“You know the consequences for disobeying a direct order, Sergeant.”
Michael stood there, silent and unmoving, when Elwell grabbed his arm. “Michael, whether you like it or not, you must obey him. He’s our commanding officer.”
Michael stepped back from the gun.
“Elwell, aim the gun and fire,” shouted Cooper. Elwell gave Michael a pleading, desperate look. He didn’t like the order any more than Burke did, damn it. But an order was an order. He turned back to the gun and fired into the crowd.
“I’ll deal with you later, Sergeant Burke,” Cooper snarled.
Chapter Twenty-seven
It was over very quickly. The Navajo scattered across the valley, attacking the cavalry herd as they ran. The dead were dragged off and dumped unceremoniously into a ditch against the fort.
It seemed a long time before anyone remembered them, but in reality, as soon as the shooting stopped, the women were escorted back into the fort. One of them, Mrs. Taggert, had a slight graze on her arm from an ill-aimed army rifle.
“It is a wonder we’re not all dead, Major Wheeler,” said the indignant Mrs. Gray. “You have succeeded in one quarter hour in destroying the peace my husband spent months tending.”
“I had no choice, Mrs. Gray,” he answered stiffly. “They were charging the fort.”
“Charging the fort! They had just been cheated out of their money by the stupidity of our judges, of whom you were one, I might add.”
“Mr. Cooper won the race fairly, ma’am.”
“Fairly? With Manuelito’s bridle slashed?”
“There was no proof of that, Mrs. Gray.”
“It looked clean-cut to me,” said Captain Taggert, who had come over to be with his wife. “A rematch would have satisfied them.”
“A rematch wouldn’t have satisfied our soldiers, with Mr. Cooper riding a spent horse, Captain,” said the major with a look that would have quelled anyone. “I will take care of the women, Captain. And you will convey Sergeant Burke to the stockade.”
“Sergeant Burke!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Sergeant Burke disobeyed a direct order from Mr. Cooper.”
Good for you, Michael. Whatever the order was, thought Elizabeth.
“What order was that, Captain?” asked Mrs. Gray.
“I ordered the howitzers brought out and the lieutenant told him to fire into the crowd. Sergeant Burke just stood there.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Gray calmly.
Elizabeth grabbed Mrs. Gray’s arm. “Janet, can’t you do anything? Surely that was a criminal order, to fire on women and children?”
“Captain Taggert, you have a duty to carry out,” the major said harshly.
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Gray, will you take care of my wife?”
“Of course, Captain. Come, Mrs. Taggert, we will have the surgeon look at your arm.”
* * * *
Michael had been tempted to push Elwell away from the gun, but what would that have accomplished? Cooper had orders from the major to use the big guns and use them he would, if he had to pull in a raw recruit or fire them himself. He couldn’t stop the insanity, but at least he wasn’t part of it.
He was unable to watch, and as he turned away in despair, Cooper saw him moving and called over two of his men. “Sit Sergeant Burke down over there,” he said, pointing to the guardroom steps, “and keep your rifles on him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Michael sat, ignoring the two men and their weapons, helplessly watching Cooper direct the attack. He was too far from the gate to see what was happening and could only pray that most of the Navajo had escaped. Please God, Antonio and his wife were safe.
“Sergeant Burke.”
Michael looked up. It was Captain Taggert standing in front of him, looking almost apologetic.
“I have been ordered to escort you to the stockade.”
Michael stood at attention and Taggert motioned his guards to walk ahead of them.
When they reached the stockade, Taggert dismissed the other men. As he opened the door, he rested his hand on Michael’s shoulder for a moment. “I am sorry, Sergeant. It was a stupid order. I would have had a hard time following it myself.”
“It was a sinful order, Captain,” said Michael. “And thank you for sayin’ that.”
There were only two other men in the dark enclosure and they were the post drunks, there to dry out. The smell of stale vomit and unwashed bodies made Michael gag and he sat down on a wooden bench as far from the others as he could.
He was only now realizing the gravity of his situation. Disobeying a direct order in battle could lead to court martial, dishonorable discharge, even death. Except it wasn’t a battle, he thought, dropping his head in his hands. Most of the men who had rushed the gates hadn’t even been armed. And the women and children most certainly weren’t. It was murder they’d been wanting him to commit. If he were back there again, he’d
do the same thing, may God help him for it.
* * * *
After taking care of Mrs. Taggert, Elizabeth and the colonel’s wife returned home for an early tea. Elizabeth’s hands had been shaking enough to spill her tea into her saucer. Mrs. Gray took one look at her white face and pulled a crystal decanter of brandy from her sideboard. She poured a generous amount into Elizabeth’s teacup.
“Here, this will make you feel better, Elizabeth. I am going to have mine straight,” she added, pouring a glass for herself.
The brandy and tea warmed Elizabeth and finally stopped her shivering.
“Thank you, Janet. I have always admired you for your calmness, but today even more.”
“I may look calm on the outside, my dear, but inside I am raving. I can only imagine what Charles will feel when he gets back. Everything we have worked for here is gone up in smoke.”
“All I can see is the children,” said Elizabeth with tears in her eyes. “And it was all so stupid and senseless.”
“Such things always are, Elizabeth. It is usually something stupid and small that starts wars. If Charles had been here, this never would have happened.”
“What do you think will become of Sergeant Burke,” Elizabeth asked apprehensively.
“He’d get a medal, if I had anything to say about it!”
Elizabeth smiled.
“Of course, I don’t have any say in the matter. But you can be sure I will tell Charles the whole story and plead extenuating circumstances.”
“He couldn’t be…executed, could he?”
“Not in peacetime. And it is peacetime. Or was,” she added bitterly.
* * * *
When the shooting started, Antonio had stood paralyzed. All the Diné around him stood like statues, unable to believe what had happened. Then the people ran: men to their horses, women to their children. At first the men wheeled their horses around, as if contemplating an attack on the fort, but when the gates opened again, with the soldiers filing indiscriminately into the crowd, men sought out their wives and children and scooped them up. Antonio, his paralysis broken by the sight of one of the murdered women, ran for his bay. How he found Serena in all the chaos, he would never know, but he boosted her up in the saddle and took off across the valley. He saw the small group of men attacking the cavalry herd, but furious as he was, he was much more interested in getting himself and his wife to safety than exacting revenge. There would be time enough for revenge later.
Desert Hearts Page 21