Beyond The Horizon

by Connie Mason

  “I wouldn’t do nothin’ rash, Injun,” the man advised ominously. “Wouldn’t want yer little woman to get in the way of stray bullets, her breedin’ and all, would ya?”

  Blade’s jaw clenched with barely suppressed rage. It was one thing to threaten him, but when that threat included Shannon he saw red. “Shannon, take Sweet Grass inside,” he ordered tersely. His black eyes never wavered from the riders as he spoke.

  Shannon’s heart quickened in terror. “Blade—”

  “Do as I say!”

  “Be careful.”

  “Turn around and ride out of here,” Blade said with deadly purpose once Shannon and Sweet Grass had retreated inside the house.

  “Heed my warnin’, Injun. Take yer squaw and yer heathen brother and get outta here if ya know what’s good fer ya.”

  They turned as if to ride off and Blade heaved an inward sigh, thinking they had survived the worst of it. He was mistaken. The worst was yet to come. Whooping and hollering, two riders carrying torches burst forth from the trees behind the house. To Blade’s utter horror they tossed the torches at the house as they charged past. Then they joined the others in a wild exodus into the night. Whether or not they intended to burn the house down, Blade had no way of knowing. But it turned into a nightmare he wasn’t likely to forget soon.

  One of the torches hit the wall and fell harmlessly to the ground, where it eventually burned itself out. The other, through either malicious intent or accident, found its way through the bedroom window, which had been opened to admit the mild night breeze. Within seconds the billowing curtains were afire. Minutes later, the whole room was ablaze. Blade and Jumping Buffalo did what they could to douse the inferno, but it soon became apparent that their meager efforts were doomed to failure. Carrying a trunk containing their clothes and what few valuables they possessed, they were forced to retreat, abandoning the house to the flames.

  Shannon watched in stunned disbelief as the house on which Blade had expended so much time and money was reduced to ashes. Nothing had been saved but a single trunk and a chair or two. The cookstove she was so proud of was now a melted mass of iron. Gone, all gone—everything they had worked so hard to achieve was destroyed in a single act of violence.

  Shannon wept against Blade’s chest, the strength of his strong arms little consolation. If not for his pregnant wife, Blade would have ridden after the cowardly bastards who hid their faces behind bandanas. With Jumping Buffalo’s help, the night riders might not have gotten away so cleanly. Seven to one weren’t bad odds when pitted against warriors trained by the Sioux.

  “Everything’s gone, Blade, everything,” Shannon said in sudden fury. “Damn them to hell! But they haven’t beaten us. They just think they have!”

  Shannon didn’t realize it, but those were almost exactly the same words she had spoken when her family was forced to leave Twin Willows.

  “We’ll build again, Little Firebird,” Blade promised, inspired by Shannon’s fire and spirit despite all she’d just lost.

  “They’ll come back,” Shannon predicted, “but next time we’ll be ready for them.”

  That night they slept in the bunkhouse, which miraculously was spared. Nor was Jumping Buffalo’s tipi destroyed. Blade felt certain the tipi wouldn’t have survived destruction if Jumping Buffalo hadn’t placed it in a spot neatly screened by thick foliage growing near the stream.

  When Milo and Slim returned from town, they were shocked to learn what had taken place in their short absence. They knew when they hired on that Blade was a half-breed, and at first were hesitant about accepting employment. But since they both needed work, they decided to give it a try. It wasn’t long before they learned to respect and admire Blade as a man.

  Since there was little they could do to restore the ranch house at the present time, Blade sent the two men out to move the cattle from the distant south pasture to a place where they could be more easily watched. Blade had spent nearly every cent he owned on livestock and the cabin, and he couldn’t afford to lose his cattle should the night riders decide to return.

  Shannon and Blade were engaged in searching through the smoldering rubble of their home later that day when Milo and Slim rode in hell for leather.

  “They’re gone, boss, every last one of ‘em!” Slim cried as he reined his horse to a skidding halt. “Me and Milo searched the entire south pasture with nary a trace of them cows anywhere. They were rustled, boss. Those men who came last night musta swung ‘round and driven off the herd.”

  Blade, who rarely cursed, mouthed a string of oaths that turned the air blue. He left Jumping Buffalo to protect the women and rode out with the hands to find the cattle. He returned at dark, and Shannon could tell by the slump of his shoulders and the grim set to his mouth that their cows were truly gone. But it wasn’t until later, in the privacy of the bunkhouse, that Shannon learned of the disastrous decision concerning their future that Blade had been forced to make.

  “You’re not going to like what I have to say, Little Firebird,” Blade began, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap.

  “Then don’t say it,” Shannon returned, placing a finger against his lips.

  Blade kissed her fingers one by one, but the determined look on his face told her he wouldn’t be deterred.

  “You shouldn’t have married me, Shannon Branigan. I’m a selfish bastard for deliberately placing your life in danger. You’re going to Idaho.”

  “Idaho? You’d move to Idaho?” Shannon asked, stunned. Wyoming was Blade’s home, and she was surprised that he would even suggest leaving. Blade was neither a quitter nor a man easily intimidated.

  “No, my love, you’re going to Idaho. To join your family. I’m staying here.”

  “What! You’re mad, I’ll do no such thing,” Shannon declared. Her chin was tilted just enough to emphasize the stubborn line of her fine jaw.

  “I knew all along I was doing you a grave disservice by making you my wife. I assumed we could live in peace here in our valley, away from town and people who would hurt you. But I see now I was mistaken. You won’t be safe anyplace as long as you’re with me.”

  “You’re sending me away?” An unladylike sound erupted from her lips as she swore in sudden panic. “What about our child? Do you care nothing for him?”

  “It’s because I care too much that I’m sending you away. I can’t bear to see you hurt. Your family can protect you in Idaho. No one need know you are married to a half-breed.”

  “You’ve lost your mind, Blade Stryker, along with the sense you were born with!” Shannon scolded hotly. “I never thought you were the kind to give up.”

  “Give up? You think I’m giving up? No, love, I’m staying. I’ll fight with everything I have to hang on to my land.”

  “And I’ll be right beside you,” Shannon declared with unshakable confidence.

  “You’re too damn brave for your own good, that’s one of the reasons I want you in Idaho. Your life is too precious to me, and I won’t see you suffer on my account. When things are settled here, I’ll come for you.”

  “I’m not going, Blade,” Shannon said with quiet determination. “I won’t run away simply because some ignorant people don’t want us here. I’ve never told this to anyone, but I’ve often thought my father a coward for killing himself at a time when his family needed him most. He could have faced his problems like a man, but he chose the easy way out. I’m not like him. I refuse to run away. We’ll face this together.”

  “Your father wasn’t right in his head when he took his life,” Blade reminded her. Though Blade couldn’t understand it—taking one’s life was never the answer—he nevertheless felt compassion for the man who had been Shannon’s father. “If he were in his right mind, he would never have considered leaving his wonderful family. Don’t judge him harshly, Little Firebird. War does strange things to people. I thank God you had the strength of will to overcome the tragedy in your young life.”

  “Then you agree with me
? I can stay?” Shannon asked, an unmistakable ring of triumph in her voice.

  “Sometimes I think you’re much wiser than I am,” Blade conceded.

  Suddenly a horrible notion occurred to Shannon. “You’re not just saying all this because you’re tired of me, are you? Is that why you want to send me away?”

  “My God, how could you think such a vile thing? Without you I have no life. I want only what’s best for you and our child.”

  “Then this discussion is over,” Shannon said with a dazzling smile. “What’s best for us is that we remain together. Now stop spouting nonsense and tell me what our plans are for the future.”

  “I love you, Shannon Branigan. Though I may live to regret it, I’ll not send you away.”

  “You couldn’t send me away, for I’d not go.”

  He kissed her then, lingeringly, lovingly, his hand resting on her stomach where his babe kicked strongly against his palm.

  “We can’t stay here,” Blade mused when Shannon was once more nestled against his side. “Winter is coming, and it’s too late to rebuild.”

  “Do we have enough money to rebuild?”

  “There is still money in the bank, but not nearly enough to both rebuild and replenish our herd. I was counting heavily on selling our cattle to the army. There should be sufficient funds to pay our room and board over the next few months but little left for luxuries. With a baby to feed, I’ll simply have to find work.”

  Shannon kept a wise silence, wondering who in Cheyenne would hire Blade when he wasn’t even welcome in town. Most of the ranches in the area weren’t taking on help with winter approaching. And Blade was hardly the type to tend store or do menial work. Nor was he likely to join the Sioux. His life was no longer with the Indians who raised him. He was astute enough to realize that the days when Indians roamed free on the plains were swiftly coming to an end. In order to survive and prosper, Blade had to make a place for himself in the white world.

  “I could always go back to Fort Laramie and get back my old job as scout,” Blade suggested thoughtfully. “But it won’t be any easier for you there than it will be in Cheyenne.”

  “I can manage as long as we’re together,” Shannon declared. “What people say can’t hurt me.”

  “It’s the violence they’re capable of that frightens me,” Blade answered guardedly.

  Shannon ground her teeth in mute rage. “We’re going to stay in Cheyenne. If we don’t make a stand now, it will be the same no matter where we go. We can’t run away from your heritage. Our child will have Sioux blood running through his veins. I want to instill pride in him, not shame.”

  “Fortunately not everyone feels about Indians and half-breeds like Ezra Samms and people of his ilk.”

  The next day Blade hitched up the wagon and drove Shannon to Cheyenne. Jumping Buffalo and Sweet Grass elected to remain at Peaceful Valley for the winter and look after things. Their tipi was snug and warm and Blade promised to provide adequate supplies to last through the bitter months.

  It wasn’t easy to find a place to live in Cheyenne. Those who were sympathetic to Blade’s plight feared reprisal from the rowdy element of town. It wasn’t until Shannon appealed to Elizabeth Davis, who had remained a staunch friend, that adequate housing was found. Elizabeth was appalled by what had happened at Pleasant Valley and generously offered them her son’s home for as long as her son and his wife remained abroad on their extended honeymoon. The house was newly built and completely furnished. They moved in immediately. But in order to preserve his self-respect, Blade persuaded Elizabeth to accept a modest monthly rent.

  One of the first things Blade did in Cheyenne was visit the sheriff to report his stolen cattle and malicious destruction of his house. Sheriff Hall made a note of the skimpy information Blade provided but promised nothing in the way of results. Since Blade could identify none of the men, it was virtually impossible to bring them to justice.

  “What are your plans for the future, Stryker?” the sheriff asked. “Are you staying in town?”

  “My wife is expecting a child, I can hardly allow her to spend the winter in a tipi or bunkhouse. I’ve rented a house in town and hope to find work. I won’t be satisfied until cattle graze on the hillsides of Peaceful Valley again.”

  Hoping to spare her mother worry, Shannon had written to Tucker instead, pouring out her anguish at the destruction of her home. Tucker’s reply arrived one day while Blade was out looking for work, and Shannon was feeling particularly low.

  Monday, November 8, 1869, Boise City, Idaho

  My dearest Shannon,

  I was greatly troubled by your recent news from Cheyenne. Although I think you are wrong about letting Mother know what is happening there, I will abide by your wishes and not show her the letter.

  I’m afraid I have to agree with your husband. I think you should come to Boise, at least until after the baby is born. If things are even half as bad as your letter led me to believe, you would be better to leave that town behind. But I can almost hear that stubborn tone in your voice and know that I’m no more likely to convince you to leave Cheyenne than Blade was. So I am resigned to the fact that you won’t be coming to Boise any time soon. However, I have already told Maggie that we’re coming to see you next summer. I mean to make certain my sister is all right, and I think it’s time one of the Branigans met your husband….

  Shannon’s reading was interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps. She looked up to see Blade standing in the doorway, his face like a thundercloud.

  “What happened?” Shannon asked worriedly.

  “Nothing for you to fret over.”

  “You may as well tell me.”

  “It was a mistake coming to Cheyenne. You could have been on your way to your family now if—”

  “I thought we settled all that,” Shannon said emphatically. “I love Peaceful Valley, and I want to raise our children there.”

  “I’m not even certain I can support our children,” Blade complained bitterly. This terrible frustration was a feeling completely alien to Blade. “I’ve had no luck finding work. I nearly had a job at the Bar K Ranch today until Ezra Samms showed up and talked the trail boss out of hiring me.”

  “I’d like to wring that man’s miserable neck,” Shannon muttered darkly. “There’s not a better man around than you. Surely there is someone in this town who recognizes your worth.”

  “Shannon, I—” His sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door. They exchanged startled looks, then Blade reached for the rifle leaning against the wall. These days he trusted no one. “Step aside, love, I’ll get it.”

  The moment the door opened and Blade set the rifle down, Shannon knew it was perfectly safe to show herself.

  “What brings you here, Sheriff Hall?”

  A frisson of fear traveled up Shannon’s spine. What had Blade done to bring the sheriff to their door?

  “Business, Stryker. May I come in?”

  “Certainly. Have you met my wife?”

  Sheriff Hall stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “I’ve not had the pleasure.”

  After introductions were made, Shannon offered refreshments, which the sheriff politely declined. “I can’t stay—duty, you know.”

  “May I ask the reason for your visit?” Blade asked guardedly.

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking since I saw you last, and I did some digging into your background. I sent a wire to Colonel Greer.”

  One black brow rose in an inquisitive arch. “I assume there is a reason for your sudden interest in me.

  “I’m getting to it. Greer wrote that you were a captain in the army and special agent to the president. Not everyone in Cheyenne is aware of that. Didn’t know it myself. You were involved in an investigation that halted illegal gun sales to renegade Indians.”

  “I’m also a half-breed,” Blade reminded him. “I was raised by my Sioux mother. My grandfather was Chief Yellow Dog.”

  “I know that,” Hall returned.

&
nbsp; “What is the point of all this?”

  “The point is that I want to hire you for my deputy,” Hall surprised Blade by saying. “I could use a man like you. Hell, man, the whole town could use a man like you. Since the railroad pushed through in 1867, we get more than our share of undesirables in town. A few weeks ago, Calamity Jane and the gang she rides with showed up on a Saturday night and shot the town up pretty good. Cattle Kate Watson and her band of outlaws were seen in town recently.

  “There is still an unruly element in Cheyenne, but at least we no longer have to rely on vigilante action to keep order. With Cheyenne now the designated capitol of Wyoming Territory I’ll need good men on the side of the law. What do you say, Stryker? I think you’ll find the pay decent enough.”

  Blade looked properly stunned and was momentarily tongue-tied. Not so Shannon.

  “It’s about time someone in Cheyenne recognized Blade’s worth,” she declared with a hint of censure. “My husband will make a wonderful lawman.”

  Shannon’s blessing was all Blade needed to loosen his frozen tongue. “You’ve got yourself a new deputy,” he said, offering Hall his hand. “When do I start?”

  Hall grinned, vastly pleased with himself. “Is tomorrow too soon? The new territorial government organized in April this year and is meeting soon in Cheyenne. I’d like to see the rowdies gone, or at least under control by then. I suspect there will be demonstrations against women’s suffrage when the legislature debates giving women the vote.”

  “Expect me bright and early tomorrow, Sheriff.”

  “Good-bye Mrs. Stryker. It was a pleasure meeting you. I heard you lecture once and was quite impressed.”

  “Good-bye Sheriff, and thank you—for everything.”

  “I knew something would turn up,” Shannon crowed triumphantly once Sheriff Hall was gone.

  “The pay will support us through the winter,” Blade acknowledged, “but it will hardly provide enough to rebuild our ranch. Some way, somehow, I intend to see Peaceful Valley restored and prospering.”