Native Wolf

by Glynnis Campbell

  “Mr. Parker,” Frank called out in feigned concern. “Is she gonna be all right?”

  Chase, barely able to contain his own fury, bit out, “What’s the matter, Frank? Are you afraid she might tell everyone the truth?”

  Chase didn’t think it possible, but beneath the bloody wreckage of his face, Frank blanched.

  But Frank was spared having to reply when the barn suddenly creaked and squealed, wavering in the intense heat. Warning shouts went out among the firefighters. The flaming walls shifted as the roof gradually skewed sideways. Then, with an awful groan, like an injured beast succumbing to its wounds, the barn collapsed and crashed to the ground. Sparks shot out, lighting up the field like stars.

  Claire flinched and gave a little cry, and Chase was beside her in an instant, clasping her hand. “I’m here, Claire. I’ll protect you.”

  Parker grabbed Chase’s arm, and for a moment Chase thought he was going to pull him away. But when he looked up, Parker gave him a stiff-lipped nod of thanks.

  In the midst of the chaos of ranch hands calming the horses, workers stomping out sparks, and maids pumping pails of water to dump over the smoking coals, two more riders came galloping up the drive.

  Within moments, Parker had spoken to the sheriff, who wasted no time in wresting Frank off the horse and putting him in handcuffs, while someone led the poor old nag to a watering trough.

  “Claire,” Chase breathed, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand, “it’s all right now. You’re going to be all right. The doctor is here.” Then he bent closer, adding, “So is Yoema.”

  Chapter 25

  Claire squirmed as Catalina pinned a violet spray of lupins across the top of the long white veil covering her short hair. She hadn’t been fussed over so much since the occasion of her twelfth birthday, when Yoema had spent hours weaving her hair into impossible braids.

  “Be still,” Catalina scolded, arranging the sheer folds of the veil so that it draped gracefully down Claire’s back.

  If it were up to Claire, of course, she would have simply moved into her new husband’s household without ceremony, as was the tradition of the local natives.

  But she was already bucking convention by marrying a half-breed. She figured the least she could do was to have a decent traditional wedding, the kind that would allow her father to maintain his respectability in town.

  Of course, there were some town folk who refused to come to the ceremony, claiming it was a disgrace to marry a savage and a travesty to be wed in a barn. But it was her father who finally admitted that it was a fool who would try to please everyone. Besides, he said he could think of no better way to christen the pristine new barn his neighbors had helped him build than to have a wedding in it.

  “Ah, better.” Catalina cocked her head, examining her handiwork, looking stunning in her own pale peach gown with ivory trim. “The pins, they are not biting you?”

  Claire smiled. Catalina’s English was improving, but it wasn’t perfect. “No, they’re not biting me.”

  Over the last several weeks, Claire had grown quite close to Catalina, who had insisted they have a double wedding. Catalina claimed it was because she wanted a public occasion to prove her skills as a dressmaker. Consequently, she had designed and sewn lavish gowns for Claire, herself, and a half dozen of the most fashionable ladies in Paradise. But Claire suspected her insistence on the double wedding had more to do with sewing up her relationship with Drew before he had a chance to change his mind.

  “So. Do you like?” Catalina asked, turning her around to face the beveled mirror.

  Claire was pleasantly surprised by her appearance. Claire was accustomed to wearing drab, conservative hues—black, brown, blue. Catalina had originally wanted to make the gowns in the white that Queen Victoria had made popular, but Claire had argued that white was highly impractical in a town full of red dirt. So they had settled on pastels. The pale lavender of Claire’s gown brought out the light in her eyes. A narrow, cream-colored ruffle trimmed the edges of the flounces, the bottoms of the sleeves, and the high-buttoned neckline.

  “It’s perfect,” she breathed.

  Catalina grinned and touched up the crown of bright orange poppies that anchored the veil covering her own thick, dark hair. “I think we will be beautiful flowers today.”

  Claire agreed, thinking it was clever how Catalina had chosen fabric that matched the color of the local wildflowers.

  Then she turned sideways in the mirror and couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you sure this looks right?”

  “Oh, si, si. It is the latest fashion.”

  Claire had seen bustles before, but this one seemed enormous, with yards of draped fabric that made her backside feel like a big waterfall.

  While she was wondering how Chase would find his way under all the petticoats and ruffles, Catalina went to the window.

  “Come, come, quickly.” She beckoned Claire with a wave. “Come see our beautiful men.”

  Claire didn’t need to be asked twice. She joined Catalina and peered down at the drive, where guests were already arriving. Chase and Drew were walking together, and Claire had never seen a more handsome pair. Catalina had chosen matching suits for them in two different colors—one the color of the evening sky and one the color of coffee—and their appearance was causing quite a stir among the ladies, who had begun whispering behind their gloves.

  Claire couldn’t blame them. One handsome half-breed was enough to take a woman’s breath away. But two…

  The twins were devilishly good-looking. But they were so much more than that. They had their grandmother’s strong heart, her good will, her sweet spirit.

  Claire’s eyes filled with moisture as she recalled how Chase had risked his life to pull her from the fire. In the days afterward, he’d watched over her while she was recovering. He'd broken the news to her that Frank had been tried fairly and hanged. Then he’d told her that he would never love anyone the way he loved her, and he’d promised to protect her for the rest of her days.

  Chase Wolf, she decided, was a better hero than Buckskin Bill, Dashing Dick, and Kit Carson combined.

  She dabbed at her eyes and sniffed back her silly tears. It was her wedding day, after all. She didn’t want to walk down the aisle with bleary, red eyes.

  Catalina leaned close and confided, “I think the ladies cannot decide which man is the most beautiful.”

  Claire managed a smile. “Well, we both know it’s…” She looked closer at the brothers, furrowing her brow. “Wait. Didn’t you say Drew was going to wear blue and Chase would be in brown?”

  “Yes.” Then Catalina frowned down at them and then began clucking her tongue. “Those tricksters.”

  Claire’s eyes widened in amazement. “They did not.”

  “They did.”

  “And they didn’t think we’d notice?”

  They stopped to watch as Claire’s father walked up the drive to meet the brothers and shook their hands.

  Claire wondered, “Do you think my father can tell?”

  Catalina shook her head.

  Claire arched a brow.

  Catalina arched a brow.

  The Two-Sons were going to be very sorry they’d tried to fool their brides.

  The whole switching suits idea had been Drew’s, of course. Chase hadn’t wanted to take the risk that he might somehow accidentally wind up marrying Drew’s bride-to-be. He liked Catalina well enough, now that he knew her better. But Chase adored Claire, and the possibility that Claire might mistake Drew for him gnawed at his insides.

  Drew, however, was a gambler by nature. And last night in the saloon, when the jailer they’d fooled with the two-spirit game had insisted their brides couldn’t tell them apart either, Drew had told him to put his money where his mouth was. A wager had been made, and somehow, Drew had charmed Chase into going along with the crazy scheme.

  It honestly amazed Chase that the two brothers could fool anyone. To his mind, they were as different as night
and day. So when, after they’d switched clothes, Samuel Parker came up and clapped Drew on the back, calling him son, Chase was taken aback and a bit annoyed.

  “Before the wedding, I have something I’d like to show you boys,” Parker said.

  They followed him behind the ranch house, across a field of grass and wildflowers, and over a small rolling knoll. On the far side was a solitary oak with sprawling branches, and at the base of the tree, a small chunk of irregular granite was sunk into the earth. It bore the inscription:

  HERE RESTS BELOVED YOEMA

  GRANDMOTHER OF CHASE WOLF AND DREW HAWK

  SPIRIT MOTHER OF CLAIRE PARKER

  The headstone was perfect. The brothers thanked him and agreed their grandmother would have been pleased.

  But for Chase, it meant even more. The circle that had been broken when his people were exiled from this place was now fixed, as if it had been melted down and re-forged into a new, stronger metal. After today, after he and Claire shared the vows of marriage, that bond would become unbreakable. And since he’d made peace with his enemies and repaired the ugly past, now his grandmother would find her way home along the spirit path.

  If Claire’s father felt uneasy walking up the aisle beside Catalina, he was polite enough not to let on. Catalina had had no one to give her away, and though Claire knew her father still secretly suspected the Italian lady was a soiled dove, he did the gentlemanly thing and offered to do the honors.

  Nonetheless, Claire was glad he didn’t know that several of Catalina’s wedding guests were indeed ladies of the evening, well disguised by the modest and well-tailored gowns Catalina had made for them for this special occasion.

  At a nod from her father, the fiddler began playing the wedding march, and the three of them glided arm-in-arm between the makeshift pews full of guests.

  The sweet fragrance of fresh-cut lumber from the mill filled the barn. The new design featured six shuttered windows that were currently thrown open, allowing the morning sunshine to light up and warm the interior.

  As they proceeded up the aisle, envious sighs and gasps of awe sounded from all around them. Claire knew it was all for Catalina’s lovely dress designs. Catalina smiled and gave Claire a wink, probably imagining the flood of dress orders that would come in over the next few weeks.

  At the end of the barn stood the preacher and the two brothers, whose positions were reversed from what they should be. Drew stood waiting for Claire. Chase waited for Catalina. Claire wasn’t sure what game the brothers were playing, but she gave Catalina a smile and a subtle lift of her brow. They’d decided to proceed as if nothing were wrong.

  Claire nearly laughed aloud at the disgruntled expressions on the men’s faces as Catalina reached for Chase’s hand and Claire tucked her hand into Drew’s elbow. Of course, the preacher, her father, and none of the guests knew what was going on, so nothing seemed amiss to them.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here…” the preacher began.

  Chase cleared his throat.

  Claire bit back a smile.

  “…in the sight of God…”

  Drew coughed.

  Catalina slid her sly gaze over to Claire, whose lips were clamped together.

  “…and in the face of this congregation…”

  Drew started fidgeting.

  Chase's smoldering gaze could have burned a hole in the preacher's Bible.

  Catalina looked highly amused.

  Claire fought back a giggle.

  “…to join together this man and this woman…” The preacher paused, unsure of the protocol, and then nodded toward Catalina. “And this man and this woman…”

  Drew clenched and unclenched his fists.

  Chase looked ready to kill something.

  Finally, Claire could hold back no more. She burst out laughing, which startled the preacher, as well as the congregation.

  “A moment, please,” Catalina said to the preacher.

  Then, to the relief of their prospective grooms and the surprise of the congregation, Catalina and Claire traded partners.

  The preacher found his place in the matrimonial speech, and the grooms straightened with smug pride. Claire and Catalina exchanged one last wicked conspiratorial grin before they happily took the arms of their intended husbands and spoke the vows that would bind them together as long as they both should live.

  At the reception afterward, of course, there was much made of the deception. All the womenfolk wanted to know how they could tell the difference between their husbands. The men were less vocal, probably wondering how they would use such a thing to their advantage. And the jailer seemed particularly unhappy, especially when he was obliged to pay some sort of debt to Drew over the matter.

  Her father was troubled by the fact he hadn’t been able to tell them apart. “It seems I’ve been a poor judge of character all around lately,” he said as he poured a dipperful of lemonade into Claire's glass.

  She knew he was talking about Frank. “It wasn’t your fault, Father. Frank had me fooled, too.”

  He shook his head and said softly, “If I’d lost you...”

  “I know.”

  He poured his own lemonade and then just stared down at it. She could see him holding back tears. “I wish your mother were here to see you. She’d be proud of you, Claire.”

  Claire nodded. It wasn't easy for her father to say such a thing, and it meant a lot to her.

  He added, “And I wish…I wish Yoema were here to see you.”

  Claire’s throat closed. Her father might not have publicly condoned her relationship with the native woman, but at least he was recognizing it. “Me, too.”

  Reining in his tears with a hard sniff, he took a thoughtful sip of lemonade and looked out over the milling guests until he found Chase. “He’s a good man.”

  She followed his gaze. “He is.”

  “I knew it when we were tracking him—by how he was treating Thunder, the way he saw to your comfort, made sure you had food and water. A man like that will be a good provider. In fact,” he said, taking another sip, “I’ve been thinking it over. It seems like he might be a good man to handle the ranch.”

  “The ranch?”

  “Of course, he’d need months of training. You can’t learn cattle overnight. There are a lot of responsibilities that go with—”

  With a grateful cry, Claire wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the fact that hugging in public wasn’t at all proper.

  He didn’t seem to mind too much. He sputtered a bit, and then she heard him chuckling. “I guess I won’t have to teach him how to rope a bride.”

  She let him go and gave him a respectful peck on the cheek. Then she went to seek out her expert bride-roper. She wouldn’t tell Chase the good news just yet. She wasn’t sure how he’d feel about becoming a rancher. He seemed awfully happy with his blacksmith’s shop. Besides, before they made any kind of decision about the future, she wanted to meet his family in Hupa.

  She found Chase at the far side of the barn, surrounded by a bevy of adoring ladies. For a moment, Claire just stood back and stared at him, and her eyes grew soft with affection.

  Yoema's grandson, Chase Wolf—as handsome as Monowano, as brave as Davy Crockett, as clever as Kit Carson, as decent as Daniel Boone—was her hero. Just as soon as she could pry him away from his cooing admirers, it appeared the two of them would be riding into the sunset and living happily ever after.

  Epilogue

  From across the desk, Samuel Parker studied his new ranch boss, taking the measure of the man with a narrowed gaze. Two days had passed since the big wedding, and Samuel was eager to start using the barn for its intended purpose. He might as well start training Frank’s replacement to find out if he had the mettle for the job.

  “It’s going to be hard work and long hours,” Samuel warned him.

  “I know.”

  “You’ve worked with horses before?”

  “A bit.”

  Samuel stroked his musta
che. “It’s not a job where you can just waltz in and start barking out orders. You’ve got to start at the bottom, get in the muck, earn the respect of the ranch hands.”

  “Understood.”

  “And you have to get to know the other ranchers in the county. They can be your best friends or your worst enemies.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Samuel sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, considering the enterprising young half-breed. Had he chosen the right man for the job?

  “You a drinking man?” he asked.

  “No, sir, not on the job.”

  “That’s good. And you can read and write?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about accounts? You any good with numbers?”

  Samuel thought he saw the ghost of a smile cross the man’s face. “I’m very good with numbers.”

  Samuel nodded. Then he leaned forward and gave him a stern scowl. “I won’t lie to you. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “I can handle it.”

  Samuel wondered. He wondered what else he should ask. “Can you handle a gun?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Not saying you’ll need to,” he explained, “but sometimes varmints get after the calves. You think you can handle that?”

  “Varmints?”

  “Coyotes, mountain lions, snakes...thieves.” Samuel saw the frown that crossed the man’s brow. “You ever shot a man?”

  “Never needed to.”

  Samuel liked that answer, and he honestly couldn’t think of anything else to ask. He pushed up from the desk. “Well, then, let’s go for a ride. I’ll show you the lay of the land.”

  He had a good feeling about the half-breed, even if things hadn't worked out quite as Samuel had planned. He'd just have to see if the young man had any aptitude with cattle.

  On the other hand, Samuel thought, maybe he should have hired the man’s wife instead. That wild Italian woman already seemed to know how to lead things around by the nose.