“That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” said Ten. “Now, you listen to me.” He drew away from her until he could look into her eyes. “In three months you’ll be eighteen. But until then I don’t want you here. Before I leave, I want you on a steamboat, bound for Louisville.”
“But daddy won’t let me go. He’ll tell Jason Brawn—”
“He’ll tell Brawn nothing,” said Ten. “When I’ve talked to him, he’ll let you go. Now you tell him he’d better be here at nine o’clock in the morning. You go home and pack anything you value, because you won’t be comin’ back here.”
“But I—when will I see you again?”
“We’ll talk after I’ve talked to your daddy. Give me an hour with him, and then we’ll talk again. We have to make some plans.”
“What shall I tell Mother?”
“Nothing, until I’ve talked to LeBeau. Suppose you tell her you’re going to Louisville; will she object?”
“My God, no! She’s all but turned against me, with the gossip that’s going around. She’d be glad to see me go.”
“Remember—say nothing to either of them until you talk to me again.”
Harvey Roberts made himself scarce, allowing Ten the use of the office. LeBeau was there shortly before nine. He came in with the confidence that Ten suspected was the result of a couple of stiff drinks. He said nothing, waiting for Ten to speak.
“Sit down, LeBeau.”
LeBeau sat in a ladderback chair facing the desk. Ten ignored the swivel chair and sat on a corner of the desk. When he spoke again, his voice was cold and hard.
“How much do you want, LeBeau?”
“How—much?” LeBeau didn’t have to feign his surprise.
“How much money will it take to shut your mouth, to keep you away from Jason Brawn until Priscilla can get packed and aboard a steamboat for Louisville?”
“I owe Brawn fifty-five thousand dollars,” said LeBeau, gaining confidence.
“Twenty-five thousand,” said Ten. “No more.”
“But that’s—”
“That’s all you’re getting,” said Ten. “Don’t be a fool, LeBeau. Brawn won’t settle for anything less than Priscilla. I’m offering you a stake, a way out, a chance to save your miserable hide.”
“You mean—run out on my debt to Jason?”
“Do you have a choice? Once he knows he’s lost Priscilla, you’re dead.”
“All right,” LeBeau sighed. His flushed face had paled, and he studied the tips of his fingers.
“Here’s what I want you to do,” said Ten. “Get the word out that your wife’s mother is very sick, and that Priscilla’s going to take care of her for a few weeks.”
“Jason won’t believe that!”
“He will,” said Ten, “if you tell him what he wants to hear. Tell him Priscilla’s changing her mind. Tell him Priscilla will be in Louisville only until mid-September. For once in your life you’ll be telling the truth, because that’s when I aim to take her away.”
“But suppose I—What if I can’t convince Jason?”
“You’d better,” said Ten, “because it’ll be September first before I’ll have your money.”
“September first?” bawled LeBeau. “But your father—”
“My father doesn’t pay my debts, LeBeau. You wouldn’t get the money now even if I had it, because I’m buying Priscilla some time. Double-crossing coyote that you are, you’d take the money and run. That would tell Brawn all he needs to know.”
“You double-cross me,” snarled LeBeau, “and I’ll spill my guts to Brawn. Come September, you’ll be three months dead once he learns of this.”
“No deader than you’ll be,” said Ten. “Priscilla’s not going to marry that old bastard, and when he finally realizes it, you’d better be gone.”
“You want me to build up this lie to Jason so he won’t stop Priscilla from leaving. Once she’s gone, and you’re gone, how do I know you’ll pay up? How do I know you won’t double-cross me, leaving me at Brawn’s mercy?”
“You don’t,” said Ten. “That’s what you’d do, given the chance. But I keep my word, LeBeau. Just remember this: once Priscilla’s out of here, it’s up to you to keep Brawn at bay until I can raise that twenty-five thousand.”
LeBeau got up, and Ten thought he would leave without a word, but he paused at the door. He turned, and when he spoke, his hate was so strong that his voice trembled.
“I’ll keep the lid on until September first. If you don’t show, then I’ll have to talk to Jason. I’ll have to tell him Priscilla’s not coming back, and why. I’ll have to give him an address in Louisville so he can call on Priscilla and her poor old sick granny.”
He stepped out, closing the door behind him. Ten gripped the back of a chair. He would be safe enough this time, but when he returned in September, it might be a different story. Once LeBeau had the promised money in his hands, he might loose a band of back-shooting killers, with Tenatse Chisholm their prey.
Ten had to tell Priscilla the truth about his meeting with LeBeau. Nothing less would have satisfied her. Her response was about what he had expected.
“Dear God,” she cried. “So much money! You’re paying to get him out of a mess that’s of his own making. Besides, I don’t want to go to Louisville. I want to go with you.”
“Priscilla, listen to me. I’m buying us some time, and I want you on that steamboat for Louisville in the morning. Be sure you understand what I am about to tell you.”
He spoke to her earnestly for fifteen minutes, and when they parted, she was able to smile through her tears.
The following morning, Ten remained at the Roberts and Company offices until the steamboat had departed and Priscilla was safely away. He couldn’t leave for Fort Smith until the next day. He had spent the previous night on a night watchman’s bunk in the Roberts warehouse. He spent an hour with Harvey Roberts that afternoon.
“Nobody knows except you, Harvey,” said Ten. “I couldn’t leave her at their mercy any longer. I’ll be leaving for Fort Smith in the morning, and I’ll need that bunk for one more night.”
Priscilla LeBeau stood at the stern of The Saint Louis, watching New Orleans fade into the hazy distance. Emily LeBeau had been visibly relieved when Priscilla had announced she was taking the steamboat for Louisville. André LeBeau had said nothing. They had given her not a penny more than the cost of her ticket. For the hundredth time she opened her purse and counted the money Ten had given her. Her heart pounded with excitement as she thought of what she was about to do with it. She would make her move in Natchez.
Ten was on deck when The Talequah, bound for Fort Smith, whistled for the stop at Natchez. It was a stop for fuel, freight, mail, and an occasional passenger. Before the gangplank was let down, Ten returned to his cabin in the first-class section. He cracked his door enough to see a deckhand wheel a luggage cart down the narrow corridor to a cabin two doors beyond his own. He waited until he heard the door close, and then watched the deckhand depart. Only then did he leave his own cabin and tap lightly on the door of the newly occupied one. The door opened and he stepped inside, into the arms of a laughing, crying Priscilla. They sat on her small bunk and he just stared at her in rapt silence until she spoke.
“Oh,” she cried, “I’ve dreamed of this, prayed for it, but suppose they discover I—I’m with you? Am I to hide out like a—a fugitive?”
“Only until we get to Fort Smith,” he said. “If nothing else, there’ll be a post chaplain. We’ll stand up before him and let him read the words from the Book. After that, anybody that comes lookin’ for you will have to step over me.”
Her eyes went wide, there was a new frenzy of tears, then a smile. But it was tempered with a frown.
“But…neither of us is eighteen. Won’t somebody ask our ages?”
“No,” he said. “If they do, it won’t stop us. This is the frontier, Indian Territory. Men and women don’t live by the calendar. When we leave Fort Smith, you’ll belong to me,
and nobody, short of God, will change that.”
“It’ll be the happiest day of my life!” she cried. “Now you’ll never have to go to New Orleans again.”
“Once more,” he said, “after this next trail drive. I promised your daddy some money.”
“No! You don’t owe him anything. He’d just take the money and then have you killed!”
“He may try,” said Ten, “but I’ll have to go. I’ve given my word.”
20
There were few women on the frontier, especially beautiful ones, and Priscilla’s arrival at Fort Smith caused a sensation. The brash young Indian offspring of Jesse Chisholm’s had already begun making a name for himself, having bossed a trail drive from Texas. Nobody seemed in the least surprised when Tenatse Chisholm showed up with Priscilla and announced they wished to be married. It was no less than any western man would have done. They were caught up in a whirlwind of excitement that virtually took Priscilla’s breath away. Life on a frontier outpost was profoundly boring, and almost any event was seized upon to create some excitement. The officers’ wives took Priscilla in tow, and when the ceremony took place, Ten could scarcely believe what they had accomplished in so short a time. The little chapel was knee deep in flowers from the surrounding woods. There were dogwoods, wild rose, violets, and boughs of pink, fluted honeysuckle. Even the post commander got into the spirit, insisting on being Ten’s best man. He even doubled up a pair of bachelor officers, allowing Ten and Priscilla the use of a private cabin for the night. There was whiskey aplenty, and every man on the post partook, except Ten. Long after Ten and Priscilla had retired for the night, there was shouting and shooting outside the cabin.
“My God,” said Priscilla, “what a racket. How do they expect us to sleep?”
“They don’t expect us to,” said Ten. “It’d be more peaceful out in the brush, with the bobcats and hoot owls.”
“I never dreamed I’d be married like this.” She sighed. “This is like another world. We got here at noon, were married the same day, and everybody seemed—well, to think it was the natural thing to do. Dear God, do you realize that in New Orleans society all this would have taken months, with stories in the newspaper, printed invitations, and fancy clothes created especially for the occasion?”
“Men on the frontier don’t stand on ceremony,” said Ten. “I’ve heard Jess talk of men who’ve ordered wives from back East. Mail-order brides from matrimonial bureaus in Chicago and New York. A woman would step off a train or stage in the morning, and by sundown she’d be married to a man she’d first met only a few hours ago. We’ve done a mite better than that.”
She giggled. “Only a little. Six hours after we met, you left me nearly naked on the balcony, bawling because you were leaving.”
“Then I reckon it’s time to take up where we left off.”
“I reckon,” she said, mimicking him. “I’ve had this gown off ever since you put out the light. I thought western men were sudden.”
“We are,” said Ten. “I already got one boot off.”
“I’m giving you until the count of five to get the other one off.”
He stopped her at three.
Despite the excitement of the night before, and little sleep, Ten and Priscilla were awake early. Before getting up, they lingered awhile, talking.
“One thing I forgot to ask,” said Ten. “Do you ride?”
“When Grandfather Edgerton was alive, he raised horses in Kentucky, and I spent my summers there. I love horses; I want a herd of them someday.”
“We’ll go to the store,” said Ten, “and buy you some boots, Levi’s pants, and denim shirts. From now on you’ll be ridin’ astraddle, like a cowboy.”
“I always have,” she said. “I like your father, but you’re not leaving me with him and a bunch of Indians while you go galloping off to Texas. I can ride. It’s been a while, and I’ll have a sore behind for maybe a week, but after that I’ll hold my own with anybody, including you.”
While he wasn’t used to the ways of a woman, her tone of voice warned him she fully expected him to disagree. He fooled her.
“I wasn’t about to leave you behind,” he said. “I aim to be a cattleman, so the sooner you ‘learn cow,’ the better. Besides, if old Jason Brawn gets suspicious and goes lookin’ for you, he’ll never find you in the dust. Who’d expect to find a proper lady ridin’ astraddle and lookin’ at the behinds of ten thousand wild Texas longhorns?”
Ten borrowed a saddle and a dun horse for Priscilla. They left all her town clothes at Fort Smith, taking only the range clothes Ten bought for her. Carrying enough food for three days, they rode out for Chisholm’s trading post. Long before sundown, Priscilla began to lean in the saddle, favoring first one side and then the other. She didn’t complain, but Ten took pity on her, reining up near a willow-lined creek.
“Good place to spend the night,” he said. He dismounted and went to help her out of the saddle. For a moment she just stood there stiff-legged.
“You never get used to saddle sores, do you?”
“You’ve been out of the saddle too long,” said Ten, “but I promise you, it won’t happen again. You’re a frontier woman now, and this three-day ride from Fort Smith to the trading post will be a help to you. Peel off your britches and take a dip in the creek. Then I’ll doctor you with some sulfur salve. By morning you’ll be able to ride again.”
The second day was a marked improvement over the first. Priscilla smiled at him as he smeared her saddle sores with the healing salve.
“You’re right,” she said. “It’s good we have this ride ahead of us. I want to dismount before your friends without disgracing myself.”
“You’ll be in good shape, saddlewise,” said Ten, “by the time we get to Texas. The hardest part is the drive from Texas to Abilene.”
They reached Chisholm’s trading post at sundown of the third day. To her credit, Priscilla was able to dismount on her own, showing no evidence of her early misery. They caught Jesse Chisholm between the barn and the house. He showed no surprise, becoming flustered only when Priscilla threw her arms around him. No explanation was necessary. His sharp eyes hadn’t missed the gold band on the third finger of her left hand. Marty and Wes came galloping in, following Charlie Two Hats. Marty, grinning, swung out of the saddle, followed by Wes. Chris and Lou had been at the other barn and were coming on the run. Ten waited for them and then performed all the introductions at once.
“I’m jealous,” said Lou. “You went and put a ring on Priscilla’s finger, while me and Chris has got to spend three months with a pair of cowboys, all with no protection.”
Priscilla laughed. Ten had warned her of the situation that existed between his two cowboys and the Ward girls. Priscilla being near their own ages, Ten expected them to become friends. He got down to business.
“How close are we, Marty, to the start of this trip to Texas?”
“Just the decidin’ on the supplies,” said Marty, “and loadin’ the pack mules. Charlie’s boys are ready, and includin’ the mounts we’ll be ridin’, we’ll have a sixty-horse remuda. We’ll need a couple of hoss wranglers. You want two extry men for that, or just use a couple of th’ riders we already decided on?”
“We’ll make do with what we’ve decided on,” said Ten. “Jess, you keep a tally on everything we’re takin’ from the post, and I’ll settle with you when we’re done.”
“I have a word of caution for you,” said Chisholm. “You’re going to be carrying almost forty-five thousand dollars in gold. There are bands of renegades and deserters, both Union and Confederate, roaming southern Kansas and holing up in Indian Territory. Every rider should be armed with a repeating rifle and plenty of ammunition. Once you have the longhorns, there’ll be some danger on the trail drive, but not nearly as much as you’re facing with all that gold.”
“We’ll need three pack saddles for the mules,” said Ten.
“I have them,” Chisholm replied.
“We’ll secu
re the bags of gold to the frames of the pack saddles,” said Ten. “Nobody can get to the gold, or even know it’s there, without first unpacking the mules.”
“Except for grub and supplies,” said Marty, “we’re ready to ride.”
“Chris,” said Ten, “you and Lou have a good feel for the needs of a cow camp. In the morning go to the store and begin laying out what we’ll need. Priscilla, why don’t you help them? Bear in mind, everything will be scarce in Texas, so don’t short us.”
Supper done, Ten and Priscilla retired to their room. Marty, Wes, Lou, and Chris watched them go. Enviously.
“Ten,” said Priscilla, “you ought to send those four to Fort Smith. Wes and Marty ought to claim those two girls. When they look at me, I can see the hurt and envy in their eyes.”
“I reckon I know how Chris and Lou feel,” said Ten, “but your situation was different. They’ll just have to wait until this next trail drive’s done.”
“I just…feel like I’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with them, like they resent me, because we…have what they don’t.”
Ten sighed. The last thing he needed was resentment within the outfit. He already had to contend with the Indians. Charlie Two Hats and his men were adept as cowboys, and to a man they were loyal to Chisholm. That was what bothered Ten. Whatever loyalty they felt for him was the result of his being Chisholm’s son. They were full-bloods, while he was not, and as yet they had no respect for him as a man. He had to win their respect somewhere between Chisholm’s trading post and Texas. With ten thousand longhorns on the trail to Abilene, there would be no time for anything else.
During breakfast, Chris and Lou seemed more friendly toward Priscilla. While nothing was said, Ten believed Marty and Wes had come to his aid. He needed all the help he could get. After breakfast he followed Marty and Wes to the Cherokee quarters. It was time to meet the Indian riders Charlie Two Hats had selected for the trip to Texas. Two Hats was the most personable of the Cherokees, and Ten liked him. The Indian came out to meet them.
The Chisholm Trail Page 22