Alanza looked into the distance at the mountains and remembered that day as the most humbling experience of her life. She who’d been born to money and privilege had nothing, and by God’s grace her uncle was moved. He helped her to her feet and showed her a copy of her father’s will leaving his rancho and accumulated wealth to her second son, his first blood grandson, Andrew Antonio. Her uncle then sent her home under the escort of fifteen of his vaqueros, who were to assist her and the then fourteen-year-old Logan with everything they needed to make the ranch a success. She cried grateful tears the entire way.
The sound of an approaching rider interrupted her reverie. She turned to see Max Rudd on his signature palomino stallion. He’d been a great help both before and after her visit to her uncle, and was as generous and kind to her as his friend Abraham had been. Max was only a few years older than she—handsome, too, if she were being truthful. However, after Abe’s death, she’d vowed to never turn her heart to another man—not after the disastrous results from her first flirtation with what she thought to be love. She did enjoy his companionship, because outside of her sons, he knew her best.
“Good morning, Max.”
He swung easily out of the saddle and approached. “Morning, Lanz. Bonnie told me you were up here.”
“It’s Abe’s birthday.”
He nodded knowingly. “Miss him.”
“As do I.”
For a moment they eyed the headstone in silence. The day after he brought Abe’s body home, he’d dug the grave and stood beside her and the boys while the priest read the words. Those deeds alone endeared him to her for a lifetime.
“He’d be proud of you,” Max voiced. “His sons are fine, upstanding men, and you’ve turned this spread into something to behold.”
“You were a big help with both.” She looked back down at the headstone and silently sent Abe her regards and love.
Max waited soundlessly at her side.
“I’m ready now.” She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and together they walked back to the horses.
“Did Logan talk to you about the cabinetry?” she asked.
“He did. I brought my tapes with me to do some measuring, but I’m more interested in meeting this new housekeeper. Figure she must be quite a pistol if he’s having cabinets made.”
“Mariah’s more like a Colt. She’s a widow from Philadelphia and got that house of his cleaned out the very first day she arrived.”
“Do you like her?”
“Immensely.”
“And Logan?”
“Good question. I think he likes her more than he’s willing to admit at the moment. She’s been giving him fits.”
“Good for her. It’s about time he met a woman who didn’t melt in his mouth.”
Alanza wholeheartedly agreed. “She’s also a very beautiful young woman. I imagine the men will be lining up to court her very soon.”
“How’ll Logan handle that, do you think?”
She shrugged. “With Valencia no longer in the picture, we’ll see.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him about Valencia’s upcoming marriage.
“That must’ve been a kick in the head for him.”
“I’m sure it was, but you know Logan, the last thing he’ll show is his feelings. He called it water under the bridge.” Of her three sons, Logan was sometimes the easiest to figure out, but also the hardest when it came to discerning how he felt inside. She thought it might be because he was alone a lot after his mother died in childbirth and had only himself to confide in. Abe did what he could with his raising, but he had a ranch to run and horses to wrangle, neither of which were conducive to raising an infant, so Logan spent his early years with a variety of wet nurses and women Abe paid to keep an eye on him until he was old enough to be at the ranch alone. When Alanza first met him he was only six, but he could already cook and ride with the confidence of a boy twice his age.
When they reached Logan’s house, Mariah was outside beating rugs. Stopping at their approach, she called out cheerily, “Morning, Mrs. Yates.”
“Morning. I see you’re busy.”
She wiped away the perspiration on her brow. “Just earning my keep.”
“This is Max Rudd. He’s a wonderful carpenter and a great friend. He’ll be making the new kitchen cabinets. Max. Mariah Copper.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rudd.”
“Same here. Welcome to California.”
He and Alanza dismounted. “Is Logan around?”
“No. He and Eli went to ride the perimeter. Would you like to come in? I’d offer you refreshments but there aren’t any. I’ll make up for it next time.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go look at the kitchen.”
Inside, he surveyed the job to be done. “Made these cabinets myself, Mrs. Cooper, a long time ago.” He ran his finger over the bullet holes and turned questioning eyes her way.
“Apparently, whiskey was involved.”
He chuckled and shook his head. While Alanza and Mariah looked on, he spent a few minutes measuring and writing down his calculations on a piece of paper. “Be a while before they’re done. Anything else you need beside the cabinets and counters?”
“Would it be too much trouble to ask for a couple of breadboards?”
“No trouble at all. Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of. How about you, Mrs. Yates?”
Alanza shook her head. “I can’t think of anything either.”
“Then I’ll head over to the mill, pick out some wood and get started.”
Mariah thanked him and the three left the kitchen. In the parlor, he stopped and stared around. “Lanza said you whipped this place into shape your very first day.”
“I had to. It was quite the mess and smelled even worse.”
Alanza added, “And he’s starting on the bunkhouse as well, thanks to Mariah.”
“Really? Are you one of those conjure women, Mrs. Cooper?”
Amusement lit her gold eyes. “No. Just trying to be as stubborn as he is.”
“Well, keep it up.”
“Thank you, and thank you for stopping by.”
“My pleasure.”
Outside he and Alanza walked to their mounts. “Thanks Max.”
“You’re welcome. So, he’s going to rebuild the bunkhouse, too?”
She nodded.
“Have you started picking out names for your grandkids yet?”
She exploded with laughter. “Only you would be able to read my mind.”
For a moment their eyes held and Alanza sensed everything she felt for him rise to the surface. As if reading her thoughts, he said knowingly, “One day soon, you and I are going to talk.”
“About what?”
He mounted up. “We both know you’re way smarter than that, so no sense in you playing dumb all of a sudden.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
He gave her a lazy grin and reined his horse around. “Keep pretending then. See you, Lanz.” And he rode away.
Chapter 12
Still simmering over not getting any breakfast, and the trespassing Arnell Wiley and his cows, Logan shook it all off and rode to the rancheria where his fifteen-year-old goddaughter Green Feather lived with her parents. She was the pride of her people, teachers, and the surrounding community. She was also his pride and joy, and that she might not attend Hampton was disappointing. She and her family were members of the Wiyot tribe, Indians who once inhabited the California coast. With the arrival of the Spanish, followed by the influx of the multitudes drawn to the area by the gold strike, the way of life for the state’s native tribes was irrevocably changed. None more so than the Wiyot. In 1860, a man named Hank Larrabee, who’d often boasted of having murdered Indian children in the past, entered the Wiyot village while the men were away and massacred most of the women and children. The few that survived moved in with neighboring Mattole and Yurok tribes and now lived on rancheri
as, small plots given to some of the tribes as compensation for the confiscation of their ancestral lands. On the rancherias, they set their own laws and were allowed to govern themselves without interference from the legislators in Sacramento. Logan wasn’t sure how dead set she was on not attending, or if talking to her would make a difference, but he’d grown up with her father and knew the struggles their people faced in the years since the massacre. When Reverend Dennis first floated the idea of her enrolling, Logan offered to provide the funds for her clothing, train fare, and other essentials, because her success could be the way to a better life for her, her parents, and the tribe.
Her father stepped out of the house as Logan dismounted and greeted him with a smile that mirrored their many years of friendship. “How are you, Logan?”
“Doing well, Walks. And you?” His tribal name was Walks Like Mountain, but in the White world he was called Enoch Redwood.
“Sweet Water has me running from sunup to sundown getting ready for the Brush Dance. I’m honored to be Green Feather’s father but I may not survive this.”
He nodded understandingly. Sweet Water’s Christian name was Lucy. Many tribal members were given White names after the massacre in hopes it might deter bigots like Larrabee from targeting them again. As it stood, the hate formerly directed at Blacks and Indians had now turned to the Chinese, but hate was hate, and Logan didn’t want it touching anyone.
“So, has she really changed her mind?”
He shrugged. “Says she has. Sweet, course, is having none of it and refuses to let her back out, but Feather’s my only daughter and has always had my heart, so I’m willing to let her make up her own mind.”
“Even if you don’t agree?”
“Even if I don’t agree, which is why my Sweet Water sent for you.”
“So where’s Feather now?”
“Out back. She and her mother just had another argument, so Sweet’s gone up the road to visit her sister to cool off, and Feather’s outside doing the same.”
Feather’s Christian name was Louisa. She and her mother were both strong-minded individuals. Logan had played the role of peacemaker before. “Wish me luck.”
“You know I do. Are you coming to the Brush Dance tomorrow night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Logan found his goddaughter behind the house seated on a large boulder. Her black eyes were red rimmed and teary and she had a wadded-up handkerchief in her hand. At the sight of him, she stood and her watery smile filled Logan’s heart.
“Hi, Uncle Logan.”
“Hi, Feather. How are you?”
“Been better. Mama sent for you?”
He nodded.
She flounced back down on the boulder and sighed dramatically. “I’m fifteen. You’d think she’d let me make up my own mind.”
He sat beside her. “So, give me your side.”
“I don’t wish to go to Hampton anymore. I’m very grateful to Reverend Dennis for all his help, but I want to stay at home.”
“And your reason?”
She shrugged. “I just do.”
“You know I’ll need a better reason than that, so try and explain it to me if you can.”
“I just don’t want to go.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Of course not.”
“I would be.”
She turned to him. “But why?”
“Long way from home. New place, new people. I’d probably be scared to death.” Had Mariah been afraid?
She looked away.
“I’d wonder whether my mates would like me, or if they thought I was strange. Whole long list of worries. But then, you’ve always been brave—except that time you ran away because you didn’t want to start school. How old were you? Five? Six?”
She didn’t reply.
“You weren’t even big enough to see the top of the dining table but you had your mind made up, and told us you weren’t going to school because your parents and your brothers would be lonely without you. Do you remember that?”
“I do,” came her softly spoken reply.
He placed his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. “So, now. Tell me what’s really going on inside.”
She didn’t say anything at first, but then she looked up into his face and water filled her eyes. “I’m so scared,” she whispered. “For all the reasons you just said. It’s so far away, and I won’t know anyone, and I’ll miss you and Mama and Papa. What if I don’t have the right clothes, or say the wrong things, or turn out not to be smart enough? Please don’t make me go.”
He gave her a squeeze and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay to be scared. As for smarts, you’ll win that race hands down. I don’t know anyone around here who’s smarter than you. And don’t worry about your clothing. I know a lady who just moved here from back East. She’s a seamstress, and she’ll help us make sure you’ll be the best dressed young lady that school has ever enrolled.”
She pulled back. “Really?”
“Truly. She’s my new housekeeper. I’ll talk to her when I get home. And remember, you have a pretty wealthy godfather as well, who’ll send you spending money and train fare so you can travel home in the summers, and for Christmas. Personally, I think you’ll be the envy of every girl there.”
“I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “Maybe I should just stay here and marry Carlos.”
He stiffened. “Who’s Carlos?”
“I met him at Grandmother’s birthday celebration a few weeks back. He’s a Yurok. He asked me to marry him.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Feather?” he asked in an incredulous tone.
“What? He seems nice, and his parents know my family.”
“So, you’re going to give up an opportunity to advance your schooling to marry a boy you don’t even know? Come on, now, girl. What’s happened to your intelligence? Does your father know about him?”
“No.”
“Good thing.” Logan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Marrying some boy at the drop of the hat should scare you a lot more than going away to Hampton.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’re clutching at straws and we both know it.”
She sighed resignedly. “I know.”
For the next few minutes, she didn’t say anything, but he could tell by her contemplative face and the unseeing way she stared off that she was thinking deeply. She finally glanced over. “You really think I’ll be okay there?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
She studied him for a silent second. “You’re a very good godfather.”
“Think so?”
She nodded a response. “You always help me get past the big things that make me afraid. Like the time I ran away, and you all found me, and I said, I was still never going to school. Mama and Papa were fussing, but you looked at me and said, ‘Well, if you want your brother to grow up and be smarter, fine, don’t go to school.’ I was floored.”
They both chuckled.
“And the time I didn’t want to learn to swim because I was afraid of the water. You took me somewhere, I’ve no idea where we were, but we sat on the bank and watched otters. Seemed like we were there all day watching them playing in the water like silly children, and by the time we left I wanted to learn. I let Papa teach me the very next day.”
“I’m surprised you remember that. You couldn’t’ve been older than four summers.”
“But I do. Sitting on the bank and eating sandwiches and drinking lemonade and watching the otters play is probably my first real memory of you.”
Logan’s heart swelled.
She finally smiled. “Thanks, Uncle Logan.”
“So what about Hampton?”
“I guess I’m going to go. I’m still scared but talking to you made it okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you coming to my dance?”
“Of course.”
>
“Will you bring your housekeeper so I may meet her?”
“I’ll ask her if she wants to come. She might enjoy meeting everyone.”
He looked into the dark eyes of the young woman who once fit into the crook of his arm, and spoke from his heart. “You’re going to go far in life, Feather. Farther than anyone in your tribe has ever gone before, so go to Virginia and kick some tail, for yourself, your parents, and your ancestors who never got this chance, okay?”
Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I will.”
They shared a tight hug and he whispered thickly, “Good girl.”
Riding home, he felt good. He decided not to stop by and curse at Arnell about his trespassing because he didn’t want to ruin his mood, but because it was his father’s birthday, he stopped at the cemetery.
At the grave he took off his hat and stood solemnly. He knew the flowers at the base of the headstone were Alanza’s tribute. When his father died, Logan thought the world had come to an end. He remembered how much he’d wanted to cry but the death left him as the man on the place, so he’d held tightly to Alanza’s hand and watched Max and the other pallbearers lower the casket in the ground. Abraham Yates had never been overly affectionate, but he had been kind and fair. “Miss you, Pa.”
Because Logan’s mother died giving birth, he’d never known her. He’d known his father well enough to know that he’d miss the old wrangler for the rest of his life. Placing his hand atop the big cross-shaped headstone, he squeezed it, lingered for a few moments more, and then walked back to his mount.
He turned Diablo out into the pasture, then went to find Eli. He was leaning on the fence of the corral watching one of the hands ride the mare. “She finally came around?”
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