“Since the day you left ... nearly three weeks. Mrs. Oats is here also.”
“Both of them in our house?”
The waltz halted abruptly as did their chance for private conversation. The musicians halted long enough to choose the next selection, and Caleb quickly surveyed the room. He located Abbie behind the serving table and, placing his hand at his wife’s waist, urged her in that direction. “I’d better give my regards to Abigail or suffer the consequences.”
As they approached the serving table, Caleb quickly noted that his stepmother stood near the punch bowl flanked by Frank Williamson and a man he had never seen before. The stranger’s portly bulk was emphasized by a poorly fitted white suit. The planter’s outfit, complete with panama hat, looked incongruous in those military surroundings. Caleb felt a sense of foreboding as he assessed the stranger. Even before he asked, he was certain he knew what his wife’s answer would reveal. “Anja, who is that man?”
Caleb’s words sent a chill through her. She raised her eyes to follow his gaze. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and immediately climbed to lodge in her throat, for there, standing beside Ruth, was Buff Hardy. The stifling room felt cold as Analisa’s skin went from warm to clammy. There was no escape, no time to explain to Caleb why she had acted against his wishes and visited the Sioux agency. No time to tell him that Hardy was indeed guilty of dealing incorrectly with the Indians, as the bureau suspected. Caleb would learn without explanation that she had let her stubbornness rule her actions.
“Anja?”
She’d stiffened involuntarily at his first question. Now she feared it would be obvious why she chose to avoid his query. Before she could collect her thoughts, Caleb had led her to the trio standing near the refreshment table. Ruth was holding court between both men, but Analisa noticed she had moved nearer to Williamson, as if unwilling to share a closer proximity with Hardy.
“Don Ricardo,” Williamson began as Analisa and Caleb joined them. “I’d like to introduce you to the Sioux agent, Buff Hardy.”
While Analisa stood mute beside Caleb, the major completed the introductions and explained why Caleb and his family were living at Fort Sully. Analisa felt Hardy’s eyes on her, prayed that he would not mention her visit to the agency, and knew without a doubt that he would. Her fears were soon realized as Hardy raised his ever present gilt-handled cane and twirled it between his fingers.
“Don Ricardo.” The agent acknowledged Caleb with a nod, his cool-eyed stare assessing her husband carefully before he turned a telling smile upon Analisa. “And Mrs. de la Vega. It’s a real pleasure to see you again, ma’am.” The words were coated with syrup.
Buff Hardy rocked forward onto his toes and then back to his heels as he spoke, giving her the impression of a man standing on the deck of a rolling ship. It seemed his crippled leg was not hampered by the movement.
“It’s a shame you weren’t able to visit the agency with your wife, de la Vega. She explained a little about your work.”
“My wife is good with explanations, señor. She has many things to explain to me.”
Analisa was all too aware of the hidden meaning behind Caleb’s compliment.
The pressure of his fingers against her waist tightened before she felt them drop away. He stood rigid at her side, anger emanating from him in waves like heat off of a rock. She was aware of little else, her smile frozen into place.
“Shall we go outside, Analisa?” Caleb asked abruptly.
She nodded. Words caught in her throat. Quickly her mind raced ahead as she tried to reason out exactly how she would explain her actions to him. She realized there was not much she could say. Yes, she bad gone against his wishes. Yes, she had visited the agency. No, she was not sorry in the least. With that realization came her strength. Determined not to be cowed by Caleb’s silent anger, she moved through the door and out into the April night. Too late she realized she’d forgotten her shawl.
They walked away from the commissary and were halfway across the parade ground before Caleb spoke. The air was crisp, the night sky filled with countless stars that seemed to hang just above them from horizon to horizon. Analisa took a deep breath and held it for a moment. The effect was calming. As she looked skyward, studying the pinpoints of light, she realized how small her problem seemed in the face of the great universe. It gave Analisa a sense of strength as she turned to face Caleb.
He stood very near, ramrod straight and unyielding. She could not see his expression in the darkness. Only his features stood out, the smooth forehead, high cheekbones, and straight, finely shaped hose. Even in the shadowed night she could see his full lips set in a grim, taut line.
“Well?”
She watched his lips move briefly as he demanded an explanation.
“Yes. I went to the agency.” It was best to get it over with, she thought. “I went with Zach. And Kase.”
His tone remained flat, stilted. “You took Kase with you?”
“I could not leave him home alone.”
He turned away and looked across the square. Caleb’s profile was a darker shadow against the night sky. She thought she heard him sigh.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why did you do it, Anja? Why did you go there after I expressly asked you not to? I explained everything to you the night before I left. Hardy is a dangerous man. A killer. I know for a fact he’ll stop at nothing.” He shifted his weight and continued while Analisa listened intently.
“All it would take is one mistake and our cover would be blown to pieces. Did Kase say anything while you were there? Did you stop to think that he might have slipped up and referred to me as Caleb or talked about Iowa? The boy’s only five, Anja. Hardy could pick up on any slip he made and start snooping around.” She saw him drag his hand through his hair and thought he was through.
“I—”
“And what of you?” he interrupted. “What excuse did you give for just dropping in to see Hardy? I’d like to know just what in the hell you thought you were doing.”
His terse statement hung heavily between them. No longer was his anger under tight control, although Caleb had not raised his voice as he ground out the words.
Analisa remained silent for a moment while a guard drifted like a specter past the whitewashed wall of the quartermaster’s storehouse. The man was out of hearing range, but his appearance drew their attention for a moment. The pause gave her time to steel her nerves and answer Caleb.
“I thought I might be able to help you find out something you were unable to learn while you were living with those’... those ...”
“Say it, Anja: those savages.”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “That is not what I was going to say. Never. I suddenly lost the name for them.”
“Sioux?”
“Yes. You spend all of your time with them when the answer has been with Hardy all along. Well, hot really with Hardy, but right here at the fort.”
“What are you talking about?” He grasped her upper arms and pulled her closer, his voice a harsh whisper.
She looked over her shoulder, suddenly aware that they were standing in the open square protected only by the shadows of the night.
“Please, Caleb.” She waved in the direction of the house. “I have so much to tell you. Let’s go home and sit down and talk about this like civilized people. Please.”
“Now I’m not even civilized?”
“Caleb ...” Her patience with him was wearing as thin as she knew his was with her.
“Come on.”
None too gently he led her across the parade ground, past the tall, naked flag pole, along the gravel walk to their porch. Without hesitation he threw open the door and stepped inside, drawing Analisa in with him.
“Sit down, Caleb, and I will tell you what I have discovered.” Analisa drew away, refusing to let him intimidate her.
She thought she saw a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Her eyes met his as she tried to read his mood. Sensing capitulation, she chanced a smile.
“You told me once,” she began, “that I could boss around an old man and a little boy, but not you. But I think that once in a while I have to try.”
He slouched against the back of the settee and locked his hands behind his head. “You might be right.” He crossed his ankles and gave her his full attention. “But don’t think that I’m not angry. You had better do some fairly fast talking, Anja.”
She took a deep breath. Where to begin? She worried that she might not recount the tale correctly and thus confuse him.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
“I asked Zach to take me to the agency,” she began slowly, building confidence as she explained. “When we got there, I told Hardy that I was bored here and wanted to offer my help at the agency ... to help with the Indians, perhaps teach the children. We had coffee. Caleb, he took me into his house, and I am sure that you are right. He has so many expensive things ...” As she spoke, her excitement took over. “And he has a big house, too. He said that they were old things, family pieces, but I could tell that most of the furniture was new. Costly, too.” She nodded for emphasis and watched him as he could not help but smile.
“What else?”
“Well, just before I left, he told me that the renegades would never come into the agency. He said they had white captives that they sell and keep as slaves.” Analisa stopped for a moment, her train of thought broken by a vision of Meika. Wait, she told herself. Ask him later. Stay with the story. “I was upset about that, but I left without asking any questions. On the way home I asked Zach about the captives.” She leaned forward to emphasize her next words. “Zach knew about them, Caleb. He said he was surprised that Hardy had told me about the whites. Zach told me Hardy sells them back to their families.”
Disappointment washed over her when she realized Caleb was not at all excited or surprised by her revelation. Perhaps he required proof. Perhaps, she thought, he didn’t even believe her. She watched him stand up and cross the room to the sideboard. He poured a hearty swallow of brandy, drank it down, and poured another. This one he carried back to the settee with him. He did not sit, but stood in the center of the room, staring down at her contemplatively. He seemed to be weighing his next words.
“Hardy not only sells them to their families,” he said finally.
“He sells them to other tribes or to people in Mexico, too. He doesn’t only deal in whites, either. The man buys and sells Indian women, too.”
“You already knew?” She watched him, her eyes wide, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“I didn’t find out until this morning. Hardy roughed up Red Dog’s woman, a girl named Mia, but she managed to get off the agency land before he found her.”
“Mia!”
“You know her?” His expression told her he was amazed that she seemed to recognize the name.
“She was Hardy’s maid.”
“He tried to use her for more than that.”
Analisa was silent as a cold chill passed through her. She remembered Hardy’s leering stare all too well and the hatred in the eyes of the young beauty who served him. Caleb tossed off the brandy and returned to pour another.
“Did Zach tell you how he learned all about Hardy?” he asked.
“He said he ran into him years ago and that Hardy does not remember him.”
“What if they are in this together? That puts you in as much danger as I am.”
She thought for a moment and tried to put her feelings into words. “If Zach is part of Hardy’s crimes, why would he tell me about them?” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and then remembered. “I know! Zach said that he is ... is biting his time.”
“Biting his time?”
“Yes.” She nodded with assurance.
“Who?”
“He is. Zach ... Zach is biting his time until he can catch Hardy. Zach is not certain if the major knows about Hardy or not.” With a short laugh she added, “I know a man like the major could not possibly be a part of anything so ... so ... terrible.”
“You seem to know more than I do already.” He set his glass on the patterned tafelkleed on the dining table and began to slowly pace the small room. “So, Zach is biting his time until he can catch Hardy, Red Dog is planning to set his own trap for the man, and I’m one step behind my wife in my investigations.” He looked up at the ceiling and spoke to himself. “You’re doing one hell of a job, Storm. Wait until Parker hears about this one.”
She watched in amazement as he turned on his heel and walked with purposeful strides toward their room.
“Caleb?”
He ignored her.
Analisa trailed after him and stood just inside the doorway as he quickly lit the lamp on the dresser and moved to close the curtains. Without a word he began to strip off his coat and unbutton his shirt. Hastily he pulled the material from the waistband of his trousers. Analisa watched in amazement. Was he never going to speak to her again?
“Caleb, what are you doing?”
He paused long enough to look across the room at her before he tossed the shirt on the bed. His hands went to his waist and he unbuttoned the waistband of his trousers and began to shuck them from his long form. At the sight of him standing so blatantly nude in the lamplight, Analisa turned her back, only to find she was standing before the mirror, where his lean, well-defined form was clearly reflected. She moved toward the bed, her eyes averted, her attention riveted on his clothes. She lifted the crumpled garments and began to shake them out. Still refusing to look in his direction, she carried his clothing to the row of hooks that bordered one wall.
“I have decided, dear wife, that it is high time I set aside all of these trappings and got to work. It seems that you are capable of flushing out the quail before I am. I want to get back to Red Dog’s camp before he sends word to Hardy that he has a woman to trade. The last thing I want”—his voice was calm and determined as he strode to the dresser and yanked open the top drawer—“is to have anyone kill Hardy before I can arrest him.”
“You have the power to arrest Hardy? Oh, Caleb, why don’t you go to the dance and get him now? The major can put him in the guardhouse, and we can forget all about this.”
“I do have the power to arrest him, Anja, but first I need proof that he is guilty. I have to set my own trap for Hardy before Red Dog or Zach can get hold of him. I want that man tried for his crimes. Then we can begin to round up all the others like him.”
Caleb pulled on his black shirt, the one he’d been wearing the day he rode into her life. He stood buttoning the shirt, his back toward her, the movement of his well-defined, powerful muscles visible even beneath the dark material, and spoke to her over his shoulder.
“Get me my black pants, would you, Anja?”
She moved to do his bidding and held the trousers out at arm’s length. As he shoved one leg and then the other into his pants, he looked up at her with a smile.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Ja. You are not angry with me now?”
“No. I must admit, I was disappointed in you, and I know now that you can’t be trusted not to interfere with my work.”
“Oh, Caleb, please ...” His words hurt her, although she knew he spoke the truth:
“It’s all right. I figure this experience just served to show me that sometimes I move a little too slowly. Not you, though; you just take the bull by the horns and jump right on his back.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget I said that.” He reached for his worn leather jacket and mumbled loud enough for her to barely catch his words, “Next thing I know, she’ll be out looking for a bull.”
She followed close on his heels as he went to his trunk and opened it. Beneath a stack of
folded shirts rested his gun and holster. Fear clutched at Analisa’s heart as she watched Caleb buckle the gun belt about his waist and tie the rawhide thong around his thigh. Absently he lifted the gun and felt its weight, as if he needed to reacquaint himself with the feel of it.
“Caleb, please ... tell me where you are going. What are you going to do? Shouldn’t you let me know before you walk out of here? What if something should happen to you?”
Frantic now with worry, trying to swallow her fear, Analisa stepped nearer and took his hands in her own. She forced him to slow down, to stop his movements and meet her gaze. “Tell me.
“I have to go, Anja. It may already be too late.”
She thought back over his words. “You said Red Dog had a woman for Hardy, a woman to trade ...”
“It’s just a trap. Red Dog means to trick him.”
“Are there any white women in the renegade camp?” She paused to be sure he was paying attention to her words. “Caleb, is my sister one of the captives?”
He seemed all too still for a moment. Although he did not look away, Analisa could see that he was somehow able to hide his thoughts, as if his mind were suddenly shuttered. The pause between her question and his words was too long, and too heavily silent. He knew something about Meika. She was sure of it.
As he looked down into her pleading, upturned face, Caleb knew he could not tell her he’d seen Meika, not until he was positive the girl really was Analisa’s sister, and certainly not until he could be sure of obtaining her release from the Sioux. He would risk telling her a lie and losing her trust in him in order to avoid leading her down a trail of false hope. Caleb’s fingers tightened around hers as he spoke.
“No.”
She barely heard the reply and yet knew that it was a lie, the first lie he’d ever told her. Analisa dropped his hands and turned away. She fought back tears, blinking rapidly. Perhaps she’d earned this, she thought. She’d betrayed his trust by going to visit Hardy. Now, to repay her, he would keep the truth from her. Could he do something so cruel, knowing how she longed to find her missing sister and brother?
“Anja, I’m ready ... I’m going.”
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