Beyond The Horizon

by Connie Mason

  “We all want the same thing, dear,” Molly replied with mild reproof. Then she turned to Shannon, her eyes soft with sympathy. “Are you all right, Shannon? I know you were fond of Blade, and I admit I was shocked myself by what he did.”

  “Blade saved my life and I’ll never believe him guilty of murder,” Shannon said stubbornly. “Thank you for caring, Molly.”

  “Why, you’re like my own daughter, Shannon. I’ll always care about you.”

  Claire turned away in disgust, making an unladylike sound deep in her throat.

  Mindful of the time and what lay ahead, Shannon said, “It’s getting late, and I should be going. Goodnight, Molly, Claire.”

  “Goodnight, dear. Come to dinner next week.”

  “I will. Ask me any night,” Shannon responded.

  Her trek home across the dark parade ground led Shannon past the guardhouse, just as planned. All was quiet; the grounds were deserted except for the usual guards patrolling the outer perimeter of the fort. Shannon hoped Nigel had gotten Blade’s horse out of the corral without mishap and was already in place waiting to implement the second phase of their plan.

  As Shannon drew abreast of the guardhouse door, she suddenly threw herself to the hard-packed earth with sufficient force to knock the wind from her. Lifting her dirt-smudged face she cried out in a voice just loud enough to alert the guard inside the guardhouse. “Help, oh please, help me!”

  The night was balmy, the guardhouse door open to catch the breeze, and the sargeant on duty responded instantly to a female in distress. Rushing out the door, he nearly stumbled over Shannon where she lay stretched out on the ground.

  “Miss, what happened? Are you hurt?”

  The young, newly promoted sargeant never had a prayer against Shannon’s feminine wiles.

  “I—I think so,” Shannon said, her voice quavering. “I tripped over my hem and twisted my knee. I—I don’t believe I can walk.”

  Recognition dawned as the sargeant helped Shannon rise. His arm steadied her as she swayed against him. “Why, Miss Branigan, what are you doing out by yourself this time of night?”

  “I attended a meeting at the Greers’,” Shannon explained, “and was on my way home. I don’t think I can manage on my own … will you help me?” Her voice held a note of helplessness few men could resist.

  A confused look spread over the sargeant’s face. Southern-born and raised, his chivalrous nature demanded that he aid a lady in distress, while his sense of duty mandated that he not leave his post.

  Sensing his dilemma, Shannon gazed up at him, fluttering her long lashes in a captivating manner. “Please assist me back to the Greers’ house—it’s closer,” she suggested helpfully. She looked so appealing, so adorably dependent on him, that Sargeant Becker failed to consider the consequences. Besides, he’d only be away from his post a few minutes and the prisoner was locked securely behind bars.

  “Of course I’ll help you, Miss Branigan,” offered the smitten young man. “Lean on me and I’ll assist you back to the Greers’.”

  The moment Shannon limped away, leaning heavily against Sargeant Becker, a figure detached itself from the shadows at the side of the guardhouse and slipped inside the open door. Working against time, Nigel Bruce quickly pulled open the center drawer of the desk and found the keys to the cells exactly where Shannon had said they would be. On her previous visits she had observed where the duty officer kept them. Stealthily Nigel entered the cell area. Only one cell was in use, the occupant lying on the bare mattress.

  “Blade, wake up, old boy!”

  Years of training brought Blade instantly alert. He rolled to his side. “Who is it?”

  “Nigel Bruce, old boy.”

  “What in the hell are you doing here this time of night?” Blade asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Letting you out of here.”

  “What! How—”

  “It’s Shannon’s idea, old boy. I’m just along for the adventure. Hurry, we haven’t much time.” The cell door swung open with a groan of protest. “Your horse is tethered across the river in a grove of cottonwood trees. You’ll have to make your way there on foot.”

  “Where is the guard?” Blade asked, peering anxiously toward the guardroom.

  “Shannon lured him away. She’s quite a woman. But you must hurry,” Nigel urged, “or all her planning will have been in vain.”

  Blade acted swiftly once the cell door was open, proving he had lost none of his skill or cunning. Before leaving the cell he rolled the pillow and blanket to look as if a man were lying on the narrow bunk. Then Nigel carefully locked the cell door and followed Blade into the deserted guardroom. While Nigel replaced the keys exactly where he’d found them, Blade located his guns in a cupboard. Beside them he found his stolen knife, the one that had killed Major Vance. He strapped on his weapons and was ready to leave.

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Bruce,” Blade said as they slipped out the door and around to the rear of the guardhouse where darkness protected them.

  “You have Shannon to thank.” Nigel grinned, relishing the grand escapade. “I merely lent my help.”

  “Will you give Shannon a message for me?”

  “Of course, old boy, though I reckon it’s the same one she asked me to relay to you.”

  “Tell Shannon I—I love her—and thank her for giving me back my life.”

  “I’ll relay your message. Now I have one to deliver to you. Shannon said to tell you she’ll wait for you to return for her—forever if necessary.”

  “I’ll return, somehow I’ll come back for Shannon. Farewell, Nigel Bruce.” He extended his hand.

  “Good-bye, Blade, good luck. Use the postern gate. It’s unguarded.”

  Then Blade was gone, melting into the shadows. When Nigel turned around for a last look he had already disappeared, his moccasined feet moving silently and stealthily through the black night.

  Meanwhile, Shannon arrived at Colonel Greer’s house. The colonel was home and expressed great concern as he helped Shannon into the house. He summoned Molly to see to Shannon’s injury, then turned his cool gaze to Sargeant Becker.

  “Weren’t you assigned duty at the guardhouse tonight?”

  “Yes sir, but Miss Branigan needed help,” the flustered young man explained. “I did what I felt was proper under the circumstances.”

  “We’ll discuss this tomorrow, Sargeant. Return to your post.”

  Minutes later, Sargeant Becker reached the guardhouse. Nothing looked amiss, but just to be certain he looked in on the prisoner. Blade appeared to be sleeping soundly, much to Becker’s relief, and he returned to the guardroom. At midnight his replacement, Sargeant Lark, arrived and Becker sought his bed in the barracks. When Sargeant Lark checked the prisoner, he found all in order.

  “Prison break!” The word spread rapidly through the fort. The prisoner was discovered missing when breakfast was brought to him. It was to have been his last meal. No one could explain his mysterious disappearance. A thorough investigation was under way, but Colonel Greer was convinced it had happened when Sargeant Becker left his post during those few minutes he had gone to Shannon’s aid. If Greer didn’t know for a fact that Shannon was at his house, he would have sworn she was responsible. But Shannon couldn’t have done it alone, and Greer could think of no one willing to break the law to free a convicted killer.

  A patrol was sent out immediately after it was discovered that Blade’s horse was missing from the corral. But the half-breed was too clever for the soldiers; he had covered his tracks well. Still suspicious of Shannon, Greer ordered her brought in for questioning.

  “I won’t deny I’m glad Blade escaped,” Shannon admitted when she faced the irate commander. “But I don’t know who did it or how. I was at your house all night, remember? Molly insisted I spend the night after I fell.”

  “Quite convenient, you falling when you did, and in front of the guardhouse,” Greer observed, his tone strongly accusatory.


  “Are you suggesting—”

  “Shannon, I don’t want to think you could be guilty of such a thing, and I can prove nothing. It might interest you to learn that Sargeant Becker will face a court martial because of you. He left his post without authorization, resulting in the escape of a prisoner.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” Shannon said, truly regretful for using the young sargeant so shamelessly. But if she hadn’t, Blade would be dead by now. Desperate times called for desperate measures. “I didn’t think he would get into trouble by helping me.”

  “By the way,” Greer asked slyly, “how is your injury?”

  For a moment Shannon looked blank, then quickly covered her confusion. “Much better, thank you. Molly is an excellent nurse, and those cold compresses worked wonders.”

  “Hmmm, yes,” Greer said, staring at her so intently she nearly lost her composure.

  Recovering with admirable aplomb, Shannon asked, “Is that all, Colonel?”

  “For the time being. You may go now.”

  Remembering to favor her right knee, Shannon limped from the room.

  Nigel left Fort Laramie later that morning. Before he departed, he managed to slip unseen into Shannon’s house and relay Blade’s message. Then he walked out of Shannon’s life. With both Nigel and Blade gone, she felt truly alone. Blade was everything to her—friend, family, lover. Her world revolved around him. Now she had no one.

  While all this was happening at Fort Laramie, a historic occurrence was taking place hundreds of miles to the east in Washington. On May 26, 1868, Congress once again failed to impeach President Johnson. And since that worry no longer plagued the president, his secretary saw fit to show him the telegram from Colonel Greer that had been laid aside these past weeks. Almost simultaneously the President learned through military channels that Major Vance had been murdered and a half-breed named Swift Blade sentenced to hang for the crime. A telegram was dispatched posthaste to Fort Laramie explaining Blade’s position as special investigator and clearing him of all charges.

  Shannon was the first to learn of this when Colonel Greer appeared at the schoolhouse shortly after classes were dismissed for the day. She was more than a little shocked to see him standing in the doorway looking properly abashed.

  “Shannon, I’ve come to apologize,” Greer said before Shannon could find her voice. “I’ve just received a telegram from the president.”

  “Is it about Blade?” Shannon asked, growing excited.

  “Yes, as you might guess, it does concern Blade. President Johnson has explained Blade’s position and insists he is incapable of murder, especially the murder of Major Vance. The president has demanded we drop all charges and clear Blade’s name immediately.”

  “My God, Blade would be dead if he hadn’t escaped, and now you tell me the president has finally remembered he had a special investigator named Blade! What took him so long?”

  “I don’t blame you for being upset, my dear. I shudder to think how close I came to executing an innocent man. President Johnson said a letter of explanation will follow. Everything you said about Blade is true, Shannon, and I apologize. His full name is Blade Stryker and he was an officer in the United States Army before he accepted this assignment. I’ve taken measures to clear his name immediately, just as the President ordered.”

  “Little good it will do now, Colonel. Blade is gone.”

  “That’s something else I wanted to speak to you about. I feel I can talk to you as I would to my own daughter. Perhaps it’s for the best that Blade is gone from your life. Rumor has it that the reason you defended him so staunchly is because you are lovers. I will ask you to neither confirm nor deny that charge.

  “For all his good qualities, Blade Stryker is still a half-breed. You are astute enough to know that a half-breed is not a good thing to be here on the Western frontier, especially with Indians on the move again. I strongly urge you to join your family in Idaho and make a new life for yourself where no one knows you.”

  Shannon grew angrier with every word she heard. No better man existed than Blade—how dare people judge him on the color of his skin! When she opened her mouth to protest, Colonel Greer added quickly, “I know you fancy yourself in love with Blade, but in time you will find someone more suitable to marry.”

  “Blade is the only man I’ll ever love,” Shannon said with firm conviction. “I don’t want another man. And I’m certainly not leaving now. One day Blade will return and learn he is no longer a wanted man. I’ll wait.”

  “Then you leave me no choice but to give you the bad news,” Greer said regretfully.

  “What—what do you mean?”

  “The townspeople are concerned over your involvement with a half-breed. They’ve asked me to hire another schoolteacher. Since there is only one week remaining in the current school year, you may finish out the term, and I’ve persuaded them to allow you to live in this house until the new teacher arrives. Now that the railroad has reached the Western frontier it will be less difficult to find good teachers.”

  Shock rendered Shannon speechless. She couldn’t believe people were so narrow-minded—until she recalled how just months ago her hatred for Yankees was so fierce she would rather kill one than talk to one. Knowing Blade and his family had taught her that all Indians weren’t alike, just as all Yankees weren’t like Harlan Simmons. She was just as proud of Blade’s Indian blood as he was. Every one of his ancestors had a hand in making him the extraordinary man he was.

  “I’m sorry the townspeople feel the way they do,” Shannon replied sadly, “but you can tell them for me I’m not leaving town until I’m good and ready. As for the house, I’ll accept your offer to remain until the new teacher arrives.”

  “I regret things turned out this way, my dear. It makes me thankful Claire found a proper young man like Ronald Goodman. I’d best be going, Shannon. I merely dropped by to apologize for my bad judgment regarding Blade.”

  “What about Major Vance’s killer? He’s still roaming free somewhere.”

  “We haven’t a clue to the man’s identity,” Greer said regretfully. “I’m in the process of conducting a thorough investigation. If the man is still at Fort Laramie, he will be caught.” It rankled to think that gun smuggling was going on under his nose and he knew nothing about it.

  “Perhaps the killer will try to spend the gold,” Shannon offered.

  “Gold. What gold?” Greer asked sharply. “This is the first I’ve heard of any gold. Perhaps you’d better explain.”

  Realizing that she knew more than Colonel Greer did about Blade’s investigation, Shannon revealed everything she knew about Clive Bailey, his gunsmuggling activities, and the gold he received from Mad Wolf in payment.

  “I understand more clearly now,” Greer said when Shannon finished. “There was no gold in Major Vance’s quarters, so we can safely assume the killer has it. I’m glad you told me, my dear—at least I have something concrete to go on. And I’m certain the president’s letter will enlighten me even more.”

  “Colonel, before you go, will you tell me if Molly feels the same about me as the other townspeople do?” Somehow it would hurt more if Molly sided with everyone else in their low regard for her.

  “Definitely not. Molly thinks of you as another daughter. You’re always welcome in our home. I feel as Molly does. Now I really must go.”

  When school let out for the summer, Shannon truly missed her students. She’d miss this snug little house when the time came for her to leave, she thought with a twinge of sadness. She had no idea where she would go or what she would do when that time came. She had the money she had saved from her salary and also the money Callie had sent in payment for the loan, but it wouldn’t last forever. Opportunities for work at Fort Laramie were virtually nonexistent for women. There was always marriage, but there was only one man she would consider marrying.

  Blade had promised he’d come back and Shannon vowed to wait for him. Unfortunately, he had no inkling that he’d been complete
ly cleared of murder charges and was free to come and go as he pleased. Shannon considered looking for Blade but had absolutely no idea where to look. If her money gave out before Blade showed up, Shannon reflected, she’d be forced to make a decision. Fervently she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  While Shannon waited out the summer for Blade to return, a group of Sioux chiefs rode into Fort Laramie to sign a treaty. Man-Afraid-Of-His-Horses and Spotted Tail were two of the great chiefs who attended. Under the terms of the treaty, they would settle permanently on the huge Great Sioux Reservation in the Black Hills country of the Dakota Territory, retaining the right to hunt in the Powder River region. Both the Black Hills and the Powder River would be forbidden to white exploration. Chief Red Cloud was the only great chief left to sign the treaty, and he was expected to arrive at Fort Laramie later in the year to do so.

  Meanwhile, Shannon continued to attend meetings of the women’s rights group and to take an active part in their activities. Only Molly and one or two of the other officer’s wives welcomed her without reservation, while the others treated her with cool disdain, including Claire Greer. Surprisingly, the saloon girls, including Poker Alice, continued to attend the meetings. The group wired both Anna Dickinson and Redelia Bates, inviting them to Fort Laramie to present suffrage lectures.

  In August, 1868, Shannon wrote a letter to her brother Tucker explaining why she hadn’t joined them in Boise. But no sooner had she posted her letter to Tucker than she received one from him urging her to come to Idaho before winter. Their letters must have crossed somewhere in the mountains.

  Also in August the new schoolteacher arrived, a man named Curtis Black. Much to Claire’s chagrin, Molly Greer, an unfailingly kind and compassionate woman, offered Shannon a place to stay.

  During all this time Shannon heard nothing from Blade.

  Shannon’s move to the Greers’ house went smoothly. She met Curtis Black, who was a pleasant young man four or five years her senior, and spent considerable time with him explaining how far her students had progressed during the past year and going over lesson plans. When school commenced, Shannon suffered a pang of regret and loneliness, feeling at loose ends with nothing to occupy her time. Her spirits plummeted even further when she realized she’d have to make a decision soon regarding her future. She couldn’t rely on the Greers’ hospitality and good nature forever, and her finances were too meager to allow her permanent independence.