Return of the Coyote (The Coyote Saga Book 2)

by Ron Schwab

  He had to hold back his smile. "Well, if it makes you feel better, you didn't really have to do much seducing. I wasn't a reluctant participant."

  "The Sioux attitude about these things is mostly custom. The Lakota Great Spirit does not object to fornicating as near as I know. The whites always worry about sinning and feel guilty about enjoying it. Do you feel guilty?"

  "Not a bit. But I'd feel more comfortable if we were married."

  They rode along in silence for better than fifteen minutes. They had picked up a well-used deer trail and she seemed to be casting her eyes for landmarks. She nudged Razorback into the lead and called back to him. "I'll marry you when this is over, if you still want that."

  He could not believe it. He had made kind of an offhand proposal, and she had accepted. It was hard to contain the euphoria that struck him. "I'll still want it. I've wanted to marry you for a long time. Remember, you all but turned me down once."

  "You should have been more persistent. Will you still share my robe even if we aren't married yet?"

  "If you wish."

  "And we can still fornicate?"

  "By all means."

  "I forgot to mention something, though. You can change your mind if it is a problem."

  "What's that?"

  "I won't obey."

  He didn't know what she was talking about. "I don't understand."

  "I attended church weddings while I was teaching at the Quaker school and when I lived in Cheyenne. During the vows the wife promises to obey her husband. I would not do that. Well, I might be willing to promise, but I would not keep the promise. Very unlikely, I would say."

  "I have no problem with that. We can negotiate differences."

  "That is not fair. You are a lawyer."

  "Have I won an argument with you yet?"

  She didn't speak for another five minutes. "We've got a deal then?"

  "We've got a deal."

  The horses broke into the open at the base of a peak. "Please don't tell me we've got to climb to the top of this peak to find your pot of gold," he said.

  "No. It should be in some rocks along the bottom here, to the south a short distance. I came here many times . . . twice with my father . . . to watch a badger."

  "A badger. Like the badger mentioned in your father's letter."

  "Yes. His spelling was not quite right, but I knew immediately what he was writing about. We found this badger den when we were riding one morning, and we saw a huge badger come out. He just ignored us and went into the woods for his daily hunt. I was totally fascinated by him and came back many times to see if I could spot him again, and I almost always did about the same time each morning. I kept my distance, and he might look my way . . . I know he saw me . . . but he would just lumber off and go about his business."

  "There's a promising badger residence." Ethan pointed to a cluster of boulders at the base of the peak. Three or four feet above was a hole barely large enough for a badger to squeeze through, but Ethan had seen the openings of a good many badger dens and was sure Skye's badger or a relative had dug this one.

  "This is the one. I know it is," she yelled, as she dismounted and raced for the hole.

  "Wait," Ethan said. "What if someone's home?"

  She stopped and waited at the rocks while Ethan searched and came up with a dead pine limb about five feet long and approached the hole. "Be ready to run," he warned, "in case we wake somebody up." He poked the limb in the hole, stabbing repeatedly, and it took a few moments for him to realize the tip of the wood was striking metal. He tossed the stick aside and leaned down, extending his hand almost an arm's length into the den.

  "You found it didn't you?" Skye said with "I told you so" in her voice.

  He was certainly feeling metal, very rusted his touch indicated. He moved his hand over the rough surface, getting a sense of the shape, inching his fingers down the side of what had to be a box of some kind until he felt a handle. He grabbed and pulled, grunting, as it took all the strength he could muster to guide the box, inch by inch, to the den's opening.

  32

  Skye and Ethan lugged the saddlebags into the trading post and piled them in a corner as far away from the door as possible. They had not counted the coins, but the metal box had been nearly full. There was not time to count now, but she didn't see that it mattered. It was a fortune in her eyes.

  It was mid-afternoon, and the others had not returned yet, so at her suggestion, she and Ethan took advantage of some private time under the buffalo robe. She had been mostly joking when she asked Ethan if she was a slut, but she wondered what kind of a person she had suddenly become. She had never imagined she would be like this with a man. Ethan did not seem to mind, though. And in the throes of passion, she had actually said, "I love you." He had responded in kind. He had professed his love months back when she had cut off his proposal, but this was a first for her. Strange that she had accepted a man's offhand offer of marriage, and she had not ever told him she loved him. But she would tell him again. And again. She must never let him doubt it, even when she was angry.

  She heard the hoofbeats and the voices signaling the return of their friends and went outside to greet them. Ethan was already near the run-down stable. He had been trying to upright the old corral and was cutting pine branches and dragging in timber to form a windbreak along the fence to both fortify it and offer some protection from the wind and snow.

  The horse herd they had accumulated nearly filled the stable, which was just a single open room without partitions to offer some protection from the weather, but since the doors had long since collapsed, the animals were free to roam into the small lot outside the building. They would have to lead them to the nearby stream and break the ice for the horses to drink, and she was not certain how they would feed a herd this size.

  While the others helped finish the fence work, Skye recruited Running Fox to help her prepare some supper, conceding to herself that with her missing hand she would do more good feeding their crew than repairing the corral. Jeb had already sliced some venison for steaks, so she had Running Fox assist with roasting the strips while she boiled some pinto beans. Earlier she had rounded up tin plates and forks formerly possessed by the renegades and cleaned them with boiling water.

  From the attack on the food and the compliments that were tossed her way, she decided she and Running Fox had prepared an edible meal. As they ate, Ethan told the others, "We found the gold." He nodded toward the corner where they had stacked the saddle bags. "I guess disposing of that is between Skye and the U.S. government."

  "Our immediate concern is the horses. Counting all the pack horses and Badger Claw's ponies, we've got thirty-five or more animals to feed and water. We need to get out of here as soon as possible, so they can forage as we go. We may have more critters than we can handle, anyway." He paused while She-Bear interpreted for Badger Claw and Antelope. The warrior replied at length, waving his hands excitedly.

  She-Bear interpreted, "He says he must have five horses. Antelope demands these before she will be his woman. He is upset about it, because horses are not given to a wife but to the father, who is dead. A wife does not have property of her own. But Antelope is insisting. He has five horses, but if he gives those to her, he will be a pauper and cannot enter the marriage with less than she."

  "Tell him he can have his pick of six of the renegades' horses for his good work here. He will then have one more horse than Antelope."

  She-Bear explained to the warrior, who smiled and nodded approvingly. He then spoke again at some length before She-Bear translated. "He says you are a wise man and worthy of mating with Sky-in-the-Morning. He accepts now that she will not be his wife and believes in Lame Buffalo's vision that you and Sky-in-the-Morning share a destiny. He does have another concern, though."

  "What's that?"

  "He says we are being watched by Cheyenne. He has seen fresh sign, and he saw a warrior lurking in the woods when we were returning with the horses and supplies."


  "There haven't been any attacks lately. Those who haven't been driven to the reservations have had the good sense to lay low. If there's no trouble, the soldiers aren't that interested in looking for them. Ask him if he thinks they will bother us."

  Skye spoke now, and she and Badger Claw engaged in an extended dialogue before she turned to Ethan. "He does not think they will seek trouble now, although they might steal some horses. They are trying to keep the peace until spring when Custer and the pony soldiers will come. Then the war drums will begin. Some of the young braves in our village have already joined the Cheyenne and our Lakota brothers. He did not say this, but I have been told there was a sun dance in the summer where the tribes gathered and formed an alliance in preparation for the spring. Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa is, perhaps, the most important leader. Most Brule leaders are not a part of this, but the chiefs cannot control all the braves and warriors."

  "But this doesn't have anything to do with us."

  Skye said, "I think Badger Claw is making the point that the Northern Cheyenne and Sioux are at peace now. Perhaps you have not thought about it, but you and Jeb are the only persons in this room who are not of Sioux Blood. Badger Claw would like to parley with the Cheyenne. He thinks they would trade for horses and guns. If we do not trade, they will take. We could be rid of the burden of so many horses and have some furs and other goods we do not have to feed."

  "Was this Badger Claw's idea or yours?"

  "He agreed with my thoughts on the subject."

  "And you were a teacher? You should have been a pirate."

  "So, you agree, he should parley?"

  "We have nothing to lose, I guess."

  "Fine. I told him he should do this. He will sleep a few hours and then leave in the night. He wishes to be back when the sun is overhead. Tomorrow night the snow comes."

  "Why did you bother to ask me?"

  "We are partners, are we not?"

  Everyone pitched in with clean up. Then Skye and She-Bear began sorting out the guns, blankets and clothing, holding back a few of the shirts and trousers they felt they might use. Running Fox helped and seemed to enjoy taking on the tasks assigned to him by the two women. Antelope and Badger Claw had been given the extra room, so the warrior could catch some rest before departing. It seemed, with promise of the horse dowry, they were an official couple now.

  Skye studied the merchandise as they lined it up along the front wall. Her Indian friends were increasingly adapting the white man's clothing to their own uses, and the coats would be especially useful. The blankets, she found, worked nicely as a buffer between the coarseness of a buffalo robe or deerskin, and there were fewer robes being produced these days with the disappearance of the buffalo. She spotted a smaller pistol she liked and held it back with its holster and gun belt. It weighed less than her Colt. She decided at that instant she was going to become a marksman. She intended to learn everything there was to know about her gun, especially how to use it. Ethan would give her lessons tomorrow—or perhaps Jeb. His military training should make him a qualified instructor. She picked out a Winchester that caught her eye, also. She had assumed that she would be unable to handle a rifle because she had lost much of her lower left arm, but she could still form a crook with her elbow, and she increasingly found herself unconsciously using what remained of her appendage to help with tasks.

  Later, as they were bedding down for the night, Skye told Ethan about her plans for shooting lessons. He seemed to think it was a good idea but backed away from taking on teaching responsibilities.

  "We'd get into a fuss," he said. "Besides, Jeb's a better shot than I am and knows a lot more about the workings of the guns. Talk to him in the morning."

  With Ethan's help, Skye spread out the robe and blankets they would share. No sense in pretense. She sensed that Ethan was uneasy about something, though. "What is it?" she asked.

  Running Fox had pulled his robe closer to the fire, separated from Skye and Ethan by a strong dozen feet, and was just crawling into his nest. Ethan spoke in a near whisper. "Do you think he is bothered by us? I mean by our sleeping together? I guess I'm not a very good example."

  "Ethan, he's moved away because he sees us as a couple now. Remember, he has lived in a tipi where the entire family sleeps. Mother and father share a robe and children are sometimes just a few feet away. Some nights the father may move to the robe of another wife. The children are aware that men and women do more than sleep under the robes. But this is life as they know it, and it does not occur to them that things should be otherwise. This is not my preference. I look forward to more private times with you. That will be a new adventure," she said suggestively. "But Running Fox accepts this. I daresay, he may even be finding some comfort in our being together. Now do not tell me you want to go back to your own bedroll?"

  He replied by joining her under the robe.

  33

  “The sky doesn't look so threatening right now," Jeb said, as he and Ethan each led a pair of horses to the edge of the woods, looking to scare up some grass where they might stake out the animals. "Maybe we should have headed out of this place."

  "I would have, but we would have had to leave most of the horses behind. Trying to herd this many on the trail would have slowed us so much, it would have tripled our time moving down the mountain."

  It was late morning and they had been outdoors rotating the horses to grass and water since shortly after sunrise. Skye, She-Bear, and Antelope helped most of the morning but had returned to the post to put together a meal. After leaving the horses, they had started back to the stables when Ethan suddenly sensed movement in the forest. "We'd better get to the post," he said, his voice muted and level. "We've got company."

  "I don't see anything."

  "Neither do I, but I know somebody's out there."

  They veered away from the stables and hurried toward the trading post door, but before they reached it, Badger Claw appeared astride his horse, followed by a dozen Cheyenne warriors who emerged like silent ghosts from the trees, leading horses packed with furs and animal skins. His companions were well armed and grim-faced but not otherwise menacing. Ethan stood in front of the door and awaited the visitors' approach. He told Jeb, "Why don't you tell the women we have company, and we'll need either Skye or She-Bear to translate."

  Momentarily, Skye appeared and greeted the warriors with a smile and spoke to Badger Claw in Sioux. The warrior replied at some length and then signed to the Cheyenne while he haltingly used words of their language or, perhaps, Ethan thought, some shared vocabulary.

  While Badger Claw and the Cheyenne conversed, Skye explained, "The Cheyenne are camped just two miles from here. They're moving their village to the lower valleys. When spring comes, they are joining up with many Sioux and Cheyenne somewhere north to await Custer. Badger Claw plans to take Antelope and join them. But they are not at war with us. They want to trade for horses and guns."

  "The horses are a burden to us, and I'm glad to trade all we don't need. The guns are another matter. I can't trade guns that are going to be used against United States soldiers."

  "They can take the guns from us anyway, and there is nothing we could do but die."

  "It's illegal for us to sell them guns, and it's not right with what we're being told. I don't want that on my conscience."

  "I will talk trade with them. Badger Claw has already told them we have guns. Why don't you go in, and you and Jeb can hide most of the guns and leave a few rifles and some of the pistols out for trade? They will not have enough experience with sidearms to do real harm."

  This made sense. Skye had an innate practicality that had a way of leading them to sensible compromise. He entered the cabin, and in a short time, he and Jeb had squirreled the best rifles and most of the ammunition under loose floorboards and in their robes and blankets, which they stacked in the corner atop the saddle bags full of gold. No sooner had they finished the task than Skye entered with Badger Claw and a half dozen Cheyenne warriors t
oting tightly bound furs and skins.

  Ethan watched while Skye took charge of the bartering. It fascinated him to watch the enigma who had captured his heart bargain animatedly with the Cheyenne while, with Badger Claw's help, she made clear what she expected. She would shake her head from side to side many times, taking a Cheyenne warrior to the brink of anger, before granting an affirmative nod. She turned to Ethan and Jeb. "Start gathering up the horses. Separate out ours and the ones we need. The others will be sold before I am finished here. Remember we will have animal pelts and the gold to carry out when we leave, besides our gear and food supplies."

  Ethan replied, "If you think you're going to end up with all the pelts, we'd better have six pack horses."

  "I will have all of the pelts. Badger Claw and Antelope are to have first pick of the remaining horses, and the Cheyenne will take what's left over."

  As Ethan and Jeb headed for the stables to separate their own mounts and pack horses from the herd they had accumulated, Jeb said, "I think your Skye dePaul carries on her papa's trading blood."

  "Yes, from the day I met her, she's always got the best of me." He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. "But I think if she's going to keep me, I'm getting the best deal."

  "Boss, the best deal is when both parties get what they want out of it, and I don't think that woman would ever settle for less than the best."

  "Changing the subject, did she talk to you about shooting lessons?"

  "Yes, she did. She wants to start this afternoon. First with that Smith and Wesson revolver she picked out."

  "Do you think she can handle a rifle?"

  "I think so. I've known lots of men that have lost arms, or parts of arms, that learn to work around their losses. She'll learn to use the part she's got left as good as fingers on a hand. I've been thinking about it. I think she'll be able to use that crook at the elbow to help her with both pistol and rifle."