by Jim Cox
Liz folded the paper and held it for a couple of minutes while thoughts crowded her mind. Then she handed it back to her husband. As Scar was putting the telegram away, he asked, “Have you noticed those dark clouds in the west, Liz? There’s a storm coming our way, and from the looks of things, it could be a bad one. We didn’t leave the ranch prepared for bad weather. I didn’t bring rain gear or a buffalo robe to keep us warm if the weather turned bad. We only have the thin blanket in the backseat.” Liz shared his concern as she observed the dark clouds in the western sky. They rode on.
Within ten minutes, snow was coming down at a fairly fast rate, and a strong wind had come up. The farther north they traveled, the more the wind and snow picked up, bringing with it a considerable drop in temperature. Within the half hour, snow was coming down so heavily the visibility was restricted to less than ten yards. Liz reached in the back, retrieved the thin blanket, and pulled it over their heads and around their shoulders. “How much longer before we get to the ranch?” she asked.
“We’re not quite halfway. It’ll take another two hours to get there…maybe a little less.” Scar didn’t want to alarm his wife, but he was afraid of losing his bearing. They were in a circle of white. Nothing much could be seen. The wagon track ruts were quickly filling with the blowing snow. His only guide was the direction of the wind. It normally came from the west during storms but not always. He had heard many stories about men who had used the wind as their course, only to become lost for days. Scar thought he was going in the right direction, but he wasn’t sure, so he loosened the reins and gave the team the lead.
“What are you doing, Bart? How come you slacked up on the reins?” Liz asked.
“I’m a little disoriented, Liz. But don’t worry. The horses have been over this trail many times and will have a sense of the direction home.”
They plodded on through an ever-increasing amount of snow and strong winds. Soon there was no visibility whatsoever. “It’s getting cold, Bart. I believe the temperature has dropped twenty degrees or more.” Liz didn’t complain in spite of her fingers and toes feeling like icicles.
“Cuddle up closer to me, sweetheart, and keep the blanket tucked in. It’ll help keep us both warm. Remember to wiggle your fingers and toes.” Her husband put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. The horses trudged on.
Scar was worried. What if the horses are as disoriented as I am? His mind had pondered alternatives for several minutes when he noticed a path of fresh tracks crossing in front of the horses. When the tracks were directly under the buggy, he pulled the team to a halt. “What’s going on, Bart? How come we stopped?”
“We’d better hole up, Liz. The storm is getting much worse.
The temperature must be below zero. We’re not dressed for these conditions. With this wind, our exposed skin could freeze.” Scar didn’t want to scare his wife, but he wanted to be honest with her. “Besides,” he said after a pause, “I’m not sure the horses are going in the right direction.”
“What’s your plan? What should we do?”
“There’s fresh animal tracks heading off to our right. They look like antelope tracks to me. I’d guess they're heading for the mountain stream flowing south to Flat Peaks.”
“Why would they be doing that, Bart? Couldn’t they get their water from the snow?”
“They’re not going for water, Liz. There’s an embankment by the stream with trees lining its bank which blocks the wind. That’s where they’re going.” He paused, looked into his wife’s eyes, and then said, “That’s where we’re going too, Liz. We have to find protection from this storm.”
“How long will we stay there? Will we have to spend the night?”
“More than likely,” he said.
Within ten minutes, they reached the stream. They were freezing. “You go hunker down beside the embankment, Liz. It’ll keep the wind away. I’ll gather some wood and get a fire going.” After the fire was blazing, Scar went to the team. He unhitched them from the buggy, removed their harness, laid it under the
buggy, and led the horses into a thicket beside the embankment where he hobbled them. He then went back to his wife. “How are you doing, Liz?”
She was within a foot of the blazing fire with the blanket spread overhead catching the heat. “I’m doing okay. Get under the blanket with me, Bart. It’s a little warmer under here.”
“I can’t, sweetheart. I’ve gotta dig us a cave in the side of this embankment. I’ll be back in a little while.” Scar headed for the stream where he found a flat rock about a foot square and an inch thick. Then he went to where the embankment jutted up several feet and started digging into the hill at ground level. He used the flat rock he had found to chisel the dirt out of the embankment and pulled the loose dirt onto a mound three feet in front of the dugout. His goal was to dig out a three-foot round opening, five feet deep into the embankment’s side. It would be hard to accomplish because of the frigid temperature and the blinding snow.
Scar had to be careful. Even though the temperature was well below zero, he might start sweating if he worked too aggressively for long periods, and he knew sweaty clothing in this temperature could cause one to freeze. So, he dug in ten-minute increments, occasionally going back to Liz to check on how she was doing and to add wood to the fire.
By the time Scar had his makeshift cave finished and had enough wood gathered for the night, the sun was long gone. The dark clouds blocked the light from the moon and stars, but the light from Liz’s fire reflected off the snow, lighting up their surroundings a little. Scar was tired physically and mentally, and he still had one more job to do before bringing Liz to the cave. He had to build a fire between the mound of dirt and the cave opening.
It wasn’t long before the fire was going and the cave’s temperature warmed considerably. Liz turned to her side and was soon sleeping. Scar stayed awake, however. He was sleepy but felt the need to stay alert, if for no other reason than to keep the fire burning. He wasn’t worried about their immediate safety any longer. They could last a few days in the makeshift cave if necessary. There was water and plenty of wood nearby. His concern was for the folks at the Double D. They probably wouldn’t worry too much at them being gone for one night, thinking they had stayed with Betty or Jake, but if they were gone two nights and the weather didn’t break, someone might chance it and come looking for them.
The night was long. His thoughts took him to the scheduled meeting with the governor and the dignitaries from Washington. Why are so many people against the Indians’ way of life? Can I help the governor defuse the Washington men’s thinking?
Scar questioned being appointed to the state’s cabinet. He was young. Did he have the experience? Was he capable? He knew he could never be a part of sending the Indians to a reservation. Many were his friends.
“A horse ranch,” he mumbled minutes later. Will we ever get one? Not unless I discover a gold mine or some other money-making venture. He grinned at the thought and then continued his daydreaming. Raising quality horses on a sizeable ranch would be a good place to raise our children. But the thought of children brought a slight pang of wonderment to his stomach. Liz should be pregnant by now. Wonder what’s wrong.
Scar was still having thoughts about the future when the eastern sky started turning gray. Not long afterward, the gray turned to a bright sunrise. Scar crept quietly from the dugout to avoid awakening his wife, leaving her to sleep a little longer. He stretched, taking in the clear December day. It was cold, but the sky was bright with white clouds floating eastward. The landscape was coated with several inches of white. The high-up mountain slopes to the north with evergreens reaching for the heavens were beautiful.
He looked toward the horses; they were not where he had put them. He hurried to the top of the embankment and found them clearing the snow with their hobbled front legs, looking for grass. He went after them.
Thirty minutes later, Scar called to Liz. When she crawled from the dugout, her dress and shoes were c
aked in mud, and her face and hands were streaked with dirt. Her red hair hung in dirty strings. But to Scar she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
After both had their fill of ice cold water from the stream, they boarded the buggy and headed north in the chill of the morning. They had traveled a mile or so when Scar said, “You don’t have to worry any longer, Liz. Everything is going to be all right.”
“I wasn’t worried,” she said, snuggling closer. “I’m always all right as long as you’re by my side.”
The big man looked at Liz. Then he pulled her to him for a long kiss. The horses could find their way back to the Double D.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The last two weeks of December passed with the normal holiday pleasantries and a Christmas celebration. And like most Januarys of the past, the new year of 1879 brought confinement to the Double D during the cold stormy weather and accumulation of snow. It only took a few days of being shut in to cause the clan to fall into their previous winters’ routine of reading, playing cards or checkers, and making a craft of some kind.
Scar’s upcoming departure for Denver during the middle of the month to meet with the governor and dignitaries from Washington was on everyone’s mind. All hoped the weather would lighten up a bit, offering the big man better traveling conditions, but that was not likely.
Three days before Scar was to leave for Denver, the clan had gathered around the table to eat one of Morning Sun’s delicious suppers. Without giving an explanation, Tony rose and went to the kitchen. The group wondered what he was up to. Minutes passed before Tony returned, this time holding Morning Sun’s hand. Close by were Little Eagle and Little Turtle. The room fell quiet. All eyes were on the couple as they walked to Tony’s place at the table.
Tony cleared his throat and said, “Morning Sun and I have an announcement to make. We would like to be married, but first we would like your blessing, especially yours,” he said, looking at Mr. and Mrs. Douglas.
Tony had just gotten the words out of his mouth when Mrs. Douglas rose and hurried to Morning Sun, giving her a strong hug. Then she turned and embraced Tony. “Of course, we give you our blessing. It’s an honor to do so,” she said with excitement. The rest of the clan rose and gave similar congratulations. Turning to her husband, she saw Herb nod and smile as a way to give his blessing.
With that, the men let the women take over the conversation. “When is the big event going to take place?” Liz asked. “And where do you want to have the ceremony? Give us all of the details, Morning Sun.”
The new bride-to-be was all smiles. “We talk much about this,” she said. She gave her husband-to-be a big smile. “We want Christian wedding. We want churchman to say words in church. We want wedding as soon as Scarred Warrior gets back from talks in Denver.”
“There’s a lot of planning to do, Morning Sun. Your dress, the reception, scheduling the parson, the…”
Morning Sun cut Liz short. “The White Warrior can speak with the parson on the way to Denver. As soon as he gets back from the trip, we will have the wedding. After the wedding, we can come back to the ranch. I will cook a special supper.” Morning Sun looked at Liz. “I have a dress to marry in.”
Mrs. Douglas said, “We’ll follow your wishes, Morning Sun, on everything but the supper arrangements. Liz and I will be cooking your wedding meal, and we’ll invite your friends.”
“I wish Thomas could be here to celebrate with us,” Douglas said in a subdued tone. The table folks shared his sentiments with nods.
After talking about Thomas for a bit, Tony’s thoughts went back to the matters at hand. “Mr. Douglas,” he stated, “I’ll have to move out of the bunkhouse. Would it be all right if I fixed up a stall in the barn to live in? Morning Sun and I have talked about it, and we think one can be fixed up to be fairly nice…good enough for the two of us anyway.”
“We had to live in the barn when we first arrived at the Double D,” Mrs. Douglas blurted out before her husband had a chance to answer Tony’s question. “But I’ll not have the two of you living in the barn when we have two extra bedrooms. You can have one. The kids can sleep in the other. I’d suggest you take the one Jake recuperated in when he was laid up, it’s larger.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “There’s plenty of room in this big house, so consider it yours. We’ll move the kids upstairs as soon as you’re married.” Her words were definite and no one wanted to challenge her.
When the excitement had settled, and folks were leaving the table, Mr. Douglas pulled Tony aside. “As soon as the weather breaks, we’ll build you and Morning Sun a house she can call her own. Be thinking about its floor plan and location.” When Tony looked up from the floor, he nodded, his eyes full of gratitude.
Three days later, when the sun was beginning to peek out, Scar mounted Maude and headed for Flat Peaks. He traveled through a foot of snow. Frankie trailed behind carrying Scar’s traveling bag and a few supplies, including a buffalo robe, in case the weather became impassable. Every hour the mules’ loads would be exchanged to ease their travels. It was cold, nearly zero, but the sky was clear with only a few clouds floating overhead. There was a slight southerly breeze.
Five hours later, Scar rode up to Eli’s livery. The trip had taken an hour longer than normal because the mules’ gait was slower as they trudged through the deep snow. After they had put the mules up, they sat by the stove and drank a couple cups of coffee. Scar then spoke up. “I’ll be back in an hour, Eli. I’m going to see if a letter came in from Thomas and then look up the parson. I’ll be leaving the mules with you until I get back from Denver.”
“What’s going on with the parson?” the old man asked.
Scar smiled. “Tony and Morning Sun want to get hitched in the church. They want it to take place as soon as I return from Denver.”
Eli grinned from ear to ear. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before they tied the knot. I could tell from the way Tony was talking the last time I saw him.”
“I’d better be going, Eli. I’m catching the two o’clock eastbound.”
“I’ll haul you to the station when you’re ready to go,” the old man said.
»»•««
It was Scar’s first time to travel by train. He found an empty seat among twelve other passengers, stored his bag overhead, and sat down. The big man was taking in all of the train’s luxuries when the conductor walked past punching boarding receipts. The train car had red velvet cushioned seats. Varnished oak trimming was around the seats, windows, and doors. Oil lanterns were spaced evenly throughout the car.
The passengers were well dressed. A few of the women, who Scar assumed to be from the east, wore high-collared, lacy dresses with matching hats. Their escorts were men wearing suits with white, stiff shirt collars and broad silk ties with studs in the center. These eastern folks sat stiffly and seemed rather snooty to Scar. The men with string ties were most likely western men.
It wasn’t long before Scar closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the soft seat cushion, but he didn’t sleep. Instead, his mind filled with thoughts about Thomas. What has happened to Thomas? It’s not in his character to keep us in suspense like this.
Ten hours later, and after several stops for wood and water, the train pulled into the Denver station just short of midnight. Scar went to the Cattlemen’s Hotel and was registering for his room when the clerk handed him a message. “It’s from the governor,” the clerk said. “He said to make sure you got it as soon as you checked in.”
I’ll meet you in the hotel at six o’clock for breakfast, Scar read. He knew six o’clock really meant five thirty or even earlier to the governor, so he asked the clerk to knock on his door at four thirty.
When the knock came, Scar was already dressed and ready to head for the dining room.
He was on his second cup of coffee when the governor walked up. After shaking hands, the governor’s first words were, “Scar, we have a lot of work before us. President Hayes is doing his best to forestall the mom
entum in Congress to send the Indians to reservations, but he’s hit a brick wall. Right now it’s a toss-up on how a vote will turn out.”
“You said, ‘we,’ sir. How can I be of help?” Scar asked.
“First off, you need to have official authority in the matter.
You’ll get that when I announce my new cabinet to the state’s legislature this afternoon. We’ll introduce two new faces joining my cabinet. You and a man who’ll be in charge of women’s voting rights. There will be reporters from both Denver newspapers in attendance today. They’ll quickly spread the news.”
“How are the voting rights of women coming along, Governor?”
“They were coming along fairly good, but they’ve hit a snag too. Things have slowed down, maybe even gone backward a little. There are a few in the state’s legislature who are emphasizing women should be subordinate to their husbands and a man’s vote should represent an entire household. That’s one reason I’m devoting a full cabinet member’s effort to the situation…to dispel ideas like this.”
The governor took a long swallow and said, “I’m expecting four congressmen from Washington on the five o’clock westbound, Scar. I have rooms reserved for them here. After they get settled in, we’ll have dinner with them. I want you to eat with us.” Scar nodded.
“President Hayes tells me one of the men he’s sending is squarely on our side, but he’s not sure about the other three…whether they’re for or against the reservations. He said they’d probably dominate the meeting, but we’re to be good listeners and then make our case for the Indians’ rights here in Colorado.”
The cabinet announcements that afternoon went as expected. The representatives had been privy to the information and were not surprised at the announcement, but both men representing the newspapers had questions and negative comments. “Why do we need two new cabinet posts? They aren’t necessary and will only add to the state’s budget. Where’s the money coming from? Are you going to raise taxes, Governor?”