White Wolf

by Susan Edwards

  He stifled a yawn. Red Hunter and his warriors had deliberately carried on late into the night with their shrieks and yells, forcing Wolf to stand guard—to keep the emigrants from overreacting and doing something foolish. He drew abreast of Rook, who was riding his horse.

  The old man lifted bushy brows. “How long ya gonna keep that lass of yours waitin’, lad?”

  Wolf rolled his shoulders. “Not your concern, old man.”

  “Well, now, I reckon when two people can’t sleep at night, it affects everyone. That girl is as tired as you, and you’re both techy.” He fell silent a moment. “Weren’t her fault, ya know.”

  “Makes no difference. You know how it is. What kind of life can I offer her?”

  “Ya know, lad, ya might see more if ya open yer eyes. Sometimes the answers we seek are right there afore us.” With that, Rook dismounted and took his place beside his oxen.

  A few hours later they were within sight of Fort Laramie. Wolf rode ahead and located an area along the Laramie River with ample grazing. As he stared out at the fort three miles off in the distance, he decided they would remain there for a couple of days. Every man, woman, child and animal needed a break from the monotonous, strenuous days of travel. Between heat, exhaustion and the tensions within his party, morale had fallen to an all-time low. The oxen also needed extra rest to regain their strength before continuing onward. When the wagons caught up with him, he announced his intentions.

  The gloomy mood lifted. The emigrants cheered and laughed as they formed their wagon circle. Instead of following his usual pattern of riding out to help with the herd, Wolf sat on his stallion and watched Jessie unhitch her oxen, check them over and turn them loose to graze.

  His wife. He sighed. What was he going to do? Neither of them could continue this way much longer. The strain was telling on both of them. Over the last few days, he’d spent many hours thinking about his marriage. Was it possible to make it work? He envisioned her in his life, sharing his cabin, visiting with his family. He thought of his mother, of her desire to see him settled. Yes, she’d approve.

  He spent most of each summer with his people. Dove would be pleased to have a sister-in-law who shared her love of a good hunt. He remembered how the buffalo massacre had upset Jessie, and he knew she’d approve of his people’s method of hunting, of taking only what they needed and wasting nothing. He tipped his head back. He had no doubt she could handle the harsh life, and, knowing Jessica, she’d thrive on it.

  She was strong, brave, resourceful and smart. And not only was she a fast learner, she was a good teacher. He knew that she helped Anne and Eirica with the schooling of their children, taught Rickard to use a whip and was giving the older Svensson boys shooting lessons. He grinned despite the grimness of the situation. She’d even taught Shorty a thing or two on the art of spitting. Amazing. His wife a champion spitter. Again the word rolled through him. His wife. She was his. He thought of Jessie telling him that together they could work to help his people. It looked as though there was no choice. He would never leave her alone and defenseless now.

  His grandmother’s words came back to him. He cleared his mind and heart and opened himself to the voice of the spirits. Peace stole over him as he examined his feelings for Jessie and the place she held in his heart. She fit there, as if she’d been meant to fill that void within him. His doubts fled. The dreams were right. Jessie was the one, the key. Together they’d form a team. Wolf squared his shoulders. He loved Jessica Jones with all his heart, and regretted the time lost due to his battered pride. Lighter at heart, he decided to pack enough supplies for two days and take her away into the mountains so they could be alone. He’d tell her what was in his heart and confess his love.

  But what if she’d changed her mind? What if she didn’t love him anymore? Had he killed her love? That small, niggling doubt set his stomach to churning. Just then she turned and stared right at him. The wind lifted her hair and blew it around her face. His fingers twitched with the urge to brush it away, and when her lips parted, his gut tightened. He fought the temptation to sweep her into his arms and take her away right then so he could lose himself in her sweet loving. Instead he yanked on the reins and galloped toward the herd of cattle. He had supplies to gather.

  Jessie watched her husband ride away as if a herd of demons were nipping at his heels. She smiled with satisfaction. It meant he wasn’t as cool and unaffected as he pretended to be. But that knowledge did her little or no good. She still didn’t know how to repair the damage her brothers had caused. She went in search of Rook. “Do you need me this afternoon?” she asked.

  He glanced up from unloading one of the wagons. “Don’t reckon I’ll need ya till dinner. What are ya planning, lass?”

  Jessie shrugged. “Just going to explore. I need some thinking time.”

  Rook sent her an understanding look. “Watch your step out there, and don’t be gone long.”

  Jessie grabbed a canteen from her wagon and stuffed some dried meat into her pockets. She contemplated riding but remembered she’d have to cross the Laramie River. From what she’d heard, there was a footbridge, but she wasn’t sure it would hold the weight of a horse and rider. She decided to walk the three miles. It would give her time to think. Sadie ran after her, looking at her expectantly. “No, girl, you stay here.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jordan and Jeremy approaching. Head held high, she showed them her back and set off for the fort. She heard her name called but ignored it and tamped down her feelings of guilt. She knew Rook was right: her brothers did love her, had done what they’d thought best. She realized she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at them much longer. Though her anger had faded, she wasn’t quite ready to let them off the hook. They needed to learn their lesson too. She’d gone only a few paces from the wagons when Alison ran up to her,

  “Where you going, Jessie? Can I go too? Please?”

  Jessie stopped and bent down. “I’m going to visit the fort, Alison. How about if I take you for a ride when I get back? I’m walking, and it’s a long way there and back.”

  “But Jessie, I’m bored. Lara and Ian are asleep, and mama is visiting. There’s nobody to play with. Hanna and Kerstin are with the horses. I can walk. I’m a good walker. Please?”

  Jessie shook her head. How could she say no to that earnest, pleading face? When her gaze fell to Alison’s bare feet, an idea came to her. The child’s birthday was in a few days. She would take her to the fort and purchase a pair of shoes for her. “All right. But we have to ask your ma first, and you have to promise to stay with me and be good.”

  “I will,” Alison promised, reaching up to take Jessie’s hand.

  As they passed the Nortons’ wagon, a low growl made Jessie turn around. Sadie had followed them and stood, hackles raised, teeth bared at Rosalyn.

  “Call off the dog, Jessie, or so help me, I’ll shoot it,” Rosalyn warned, her voice rising.

  Alison stepped forward, filled with all the righteous anger that a four-year-old could muster. “You can’t shoot her. She’s nice and you’re mean.”

  Rook, hearing the commotion, popped out. “What’s goin’ on?”

  Jessie sighed. “Sadie’s showing her good taste in judgment again.” Jessie waved at the dog. “Better tie her up for a bit, Rook. Never know what kind of varmint she might get it into her head to hunt.” Jessie smirked when Rosalyn marched off in a huff.

  Rook’s lips twitched, but he grabbed Sadie by the scruff of her neck. “And what are ya up ta, li’l lass?” he asked Alison.

  Alison jumped up and down. “Me and Jessie are gonna go see the fort.”

  Jessie watched Rosalyn stalk away, then turned to caution the little girl. “Only if your mom says it’s okay. Now, let’s go ask her. Thanks, Rook.”

  He muttered something, stuck his unlit pipe between his lips and dragged Sadie to the wagons. Eager to go, Alison pulled Jessie over to where Eirica and Anne were sitting. Jessie knew she wouldn’t get much thinking done,
but she didn’t really mind. She enjoyed Alison.

  When Alison bestowed the same soulful pleas on her mother, Jessie and Anne exchanged amused looks. Eirica glanced at Jessie. “Are you sure you want to take her?” she asked.

  Jessie laughed and glanced down into the little girl’s wide, anxious gaze. “I’m sure. We’ll have fun. Ali’s never been to a fort before. She’ll learn lots of new things, right, pumpkin?”

  Alison nodded, her eyes bright and pleading.

  Eirica wrinkled her nose and smoothed her daughter’s hair. “You be a good girl. Do as Jessie tells you and stay close. No wandering off.”

  “Yes, Mama!” she said.

  “Well, then, perhaps I will go lie down for a bit.” Eirica kissed her daughter goodbye and headed for her tent.

  Jessie took Alison by the hand, and together they skipped toward the fort.

  “She’s still huffed at us,” Jordan said glumly. “And Corie’s still mad at me too.”

  “Yeah, Jess is riled as a rattler.” Not to mention that Eirica wasn’t speaking with him either. Women! Try to help them and they turn on you. James flexed his shoulders and stared at his brothers.

  Jeremy took off his hat, slapped it against his thigh and faced his brothers with his hands on his hips. “Well, what did ya expect? You piled on the agony between her and Wolf. They both got more pride than a dog has fleas. Did you really think forcing them to marry would make everything all right? I told ya she’d be downright angry.”

  James stared at Jeremy. Jeremy had been against the forced marriage, had been the only one of them confident that Jessie could deal with Wolf on her own. He exhaled loudly, wishing he’d listened to his youngest brother. Damn, when had Jeremy grown up and become so wise? He felt old and foolish suddenly. Soon his siblings wouldn’t need him. Digging his hands deeper into his pockets, he kicked Jordan to get his attention. “Jeremy’s right. We owe her an apology. She knows her own mind. We ain’t got no right to make her decisions.” Glum silence met his pronouncement. Then a new voice brought them out of their contemplations.

  “Glad to hear you boys have finally figured that out.”

  James turned to find Wolf standing behind them. He grimaced and opened his mouth to apologize, but Wolf held up a hand, forestalling him.

  “Save it. I’m taking my wife away for a couple of days.” Wolf speared each of them with a hard look. “While I’m gone, check the cattle. Cull out the ones going lame or showing signs of weakness, and we’ll sell them to the fort. The horses also need shoeing, and we need to stock up on grain.” Wolf strode away from the silent and subdued brothers.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Mormon Trail merged with the Oregon Trail at Fort Laramie. The sudden mass of humanity resulted in dust, confusion and noise. Jessie glanced over her shoulder, awed by the long lines of wagons. Their white-topped canvases made a picture of white stripes fluttering across the golden land. Holding tight to Alison, Jessie wove a path around wagons and tents, wandering through throngs of people and oxen in order to reach the fort.

  “What are those, Jessie?”

  Jessie grinned. “Those, my sweet, are tipis. They are like our tents. That’s where the Indians live. Remember the ones who came to our camp last night?”

  Alison nodded. “Can we go look?”

  “We’ll see,” she said, and led Alison into the fort with its fifteen-foot-high whitewashed adobe walls topped with a wooden palisade. Towerlike bastions stood at the south and north corners, and a blockhouse had been erected over the main gate. The interior of the quadrangular structure was divided: the corral on one side, and opposite, a large square area surrounded by storerooms, offices and apartments.

  Jessie eyed the women and soldiers standing in the doorways of the buildings. She assumed the neatly clad women who wore white gloves were wives of the soldiers, and had learned from Rook that many of the Indian women parading around in calico skirts were hired to do the laundry. Against one of the adobe walls, trappers, dressed in buckskins with full beards and long scraggly hair, smoked and drank, whistled and made crude comments to the Indian women. She led Alison away. Laundry apparently wasn’t the only service these women performed.

  Alison tugged on her arm, her eyes wide. The little girl’s head swiveled from one sight to another. “Jessie, there’s soldiers with guns an’ everything.” She squealed. “What are they doin’ way up there?” She pointed to the roofs of the buildings.

  Jessie knelt and hugged Alison, loving the wide wonder that filled her eyes. “I expect they’re on guard duty.” Jessie glanced over her shoulder. The backs of the buildings butted up against the adobe walls, which allowed the roofs to serve the dual purpose of being a banquette as well. Though the sights intrigued and fascinated her, much of it was the same as at Fort Kearny: soldiers, people, animals and most of all, all-out confusion. But watching the little girl take it all in lent a freshness to it. “How about if we go find the store?”

  Alison nodded and skipped happily alongside Jessie. Loud laughter and raised voices came from one building. It didn’t take more than a peek through the door to see that it was likely the enlisted men’s bar. Jessie stopped and scanned the area. When she spotted a doorway with women coming and going, she headed for it. Sure enough, it was the sutler’s store. “Here we go. Let’s go see what they have inside.” The interior was crowded with people and merchandise. The shelves were laden, but when she saw the price of coffee, she was shocked. The cost was at least four times higher than back home.

  Leading the little girl, she moved to the bolts of cloth and the shelf of shoes. To her disappointment, there weren’t any shoes small enough for Alison. “Drat,” she muttered. Now what? She’d really wanted the little girl to have a new pair. Then she remembered the Indians who’d come to their camp last night. Maybe she could purchase a pair of moccasins—not only for Alison, but for the other two as well. With that in mind Jessie turned to leave, but found her exit blocked by those who were lined up at the counter, piles of purchases sitting before them. She and Alison were well and truly hemmed in. She stooped and lifted Alison into her arms, afraid the girl would get stepped on.

  “Is that…” The little girl in her arms was pointing to something, but Jessie just wanted to escape the crowded environs.

  “Hang in there, Alison girl. We’ll get out of here right quick.” Jessie watched and waited for an opportunity to snake a path through.

  “I tell ya, the bitch is a cold-blooded murderer, and I aim to take her in and see her hanged for her crime.”

  At the sound of the loud voice, Jessie glanced to her right and saw a large, well-dressed man speaking to an aproned man at the counter. Stuck as she was, she unashamedly listened.

  “Name is Vern Portier. I’m sheriff of a small town near St. Louis. This here’s a sketch of the woman I’m looking for. We learned she’s traveling to Oregon with her brother and maybe another man. The trio robbed a stagecoach a while back and then killed my baby brother. Poor boy had the unfortunate luck to be this woman’s husband.”

  The stranger went on about the crime and how his brother had fallen for the woman’s deadly charms. Jessie glanced away, concerned that such talk might upset Alison. She scouted the crowd in front of her and saw a large group of emigrants move forward, then stop when a new wave of visitors rushed through the open door. She tapped her foot impatiently. Still stuck, Jessie tuned back into the conversation of the two men.

  “…name is Daisy, and this here’s her brother, Dan Tupper. Don’t know this one’s name—just a drifter, from all accounts. But Daisy here should be real easy to spot. Gal’s a real looker, with blond hair and brown eyes. Have you seen her?”

  “Gee, I dunno. We see lots of women in here every day. Can’t say as I seen her or not.”

  The sheriff, tall as a mountain, turned and nearly jammed his elbow into Jessie’s nose.

  “’Scuse me, ma’am,” he said before snapping his fingers and turning back to the harried clerk.

&nb
sp; “Wait, here’s one thing. Woman’s conceited as they come ’bout her looks but has this one flaw. She has a gap between her two upper front teeth and they stick out somewhat. She hates it.”

  Jessie could tell from his voice that he was pleased to impart his sister-in-law’s flaw. Then her brows drew together. Rosalyn had a gap between her teeth. With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, she chided herself. Much as she disliked the woman, crooked teeth did not make her a murderer. Besides, her hair was short and black. She grew still. Or was it? Was Rosalyn’s hair really black? She recalled seeing pale roots the day she’d used her whip to chase Rosalyn away from Wolf. Was it true?

  “Here’s another poster, if you could post it behind you. I’m going to go have a drink. I’ll check back later.”

  The man named Vern turned and squeezed past Jessie. She noticed the badge pinned to his shirt, but by the time she opened her mouth to call him back, he was gone. Slipping to the counter to get a look at the poster, she ignored the angry voices protesting behind her. The poster was gone, and the man working behind the counter was helping someone farther down. She left, shoving her way outside with Alison in her arms, ignoring the grumbling in her wake. Her mind raced furiously. Rosalyn had money. Lots of it. Could she be the Daisy the sheriff was after? Only one way to find out. She quickened her steps. She had to find that lawman.

  “Where are we goin’ now, Jessie?” Alison wiggled to be put down. “I thought I saw…”

  “Hush, Alison.” Jessie stopped, her mind a whirl. She’d forgotten about the child in her arms. She didn’t dare take her into a saloon! She set the girl down and grabbed her hand. “To the post office.”

  Jessie tried to hurry back to camp, but was slowed by having to carry Alison. The four-year-old had grown tired. Damn, why hadn’t she brought Shilo? After studying the poster in the post office, she was positive that Rosalyn was none other than Daisy Portier, and Hugh was her brother, Dan Tupper. It explained so much—like why she and Hugh didn’t act like a husband and wife. Also, she now knew why the three of them had so much money, and why they’d been ready to flee the night of the buffalo stampede.