The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides)

by Karin, Anya

  He sat across from Thurston Grund, a man traveling from New Hampshire all the way to the Oregon territory, the two of them eating beans and drinking coffee as the sun went down. From listening to Mr. Grund, Oregon was a Promised Land. Trees and rivers as far as the eye could see, and everyone was friendly, even the Blackfoot.

  Mr. Grund grunted a laugh. “George Hearst,” he said dramatically, “is a right humbug artist! He could talk a rock out of a thousand dollars. I hope you didn’t buy that claim because George Hearst thought it was a good idea.”

  Of the small group of travelers, he and my father became the fastest friends. Both men fought in the War, and both loved the idea of adventure and traveling to see what there was to see. Aside from those two, and myself and Eli – who had been treating me like a perfect gentleman, forever minding my steps and offering his hand when it came time to step out of the wagon – were Mr. Grund’s three children. May was the youngest, a girl of three. After her came Abigail and Martha who were seven and eight. All of them were slight children who took after their mother, an elegant woman also named Abigail, who largely remained in their coach, but sometimes emerged for coffee.

  Seeing the two of them reminded me a bit of my mother. Or rather, she reminded me of stories I’d heard. She passed shortly after I was born from consumption, and I’d been too young to have much recollection.

  “Deadwood! Hah!” This time it was Mr. Thomas Martin’s turn to laugh. Mr. Martin was some kind of cattle baron from Texas who was traveling to Oregon to secure a land grant. “Must be as crazy as a forty-niner. The only people making money off gold claims are the ones selling the damn things. Well, them and those who own the brothels. What’s that fellah’s name? Swearengen? Something like that?”

  Father shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. Only Deadwood residents I’ve heard of are Wild Bill and that Montana sheriff who went after Jack McCall when he shot Hickok. Past that, I’m as fresh to the place as a newly-born babe.”

  The look on my father’s face told the whole story. I hadn’t seen him smiling like this, well, ever. In the few days travelling west from Yankton, I saw him turn into someone I hardly knew, but he was just so happy. Each morning, he helped Eli and the other drivers load the wagons and break camp, then he smoked his pipe and as often as not, sat abreast of Eli as he drove the coach. Today was no different, and tonight was more of the same.

  Night fell, and the stars went up. Brilliant, like a thousand-thousand holes in the black night’s sky. And, just as I had the night before, and the one before that, I leaned against a sparse, nearly-bare tree just outside the ring of heat radiating from the fire. The slight chill the Dakota winds carried was wonderful – I never had anything like that in New York.

  And the stars! The first time I looked up at them on the day after we left Yankton, I probably sat there until an hour before dawn, entranced by the splendor. Eli sat with me that night, pointing out different constellations, and telling me stories that the Sioux had about them. At first, he barely spoke, but as time went on, we both loosened up.

  He pointed half-way between the horizon and the horizon. “That one up there, that’s Orion.”

  “This is the first time I’ve ever actually seen the stars. I’ve read about them of course, but in the city, there’s not much chance to actually see them.”

  “That’s a shame.” He turned to me, the orange of the fire flickering in his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, a sound caught Eli’s attention for a moment. He squinted into the darkness. “Like I was saying, that’s a shame. It’s good for a soul to be out under the stars reminds us – or reminds me anyways – that there’s a whole damn lot out there.”

  For a moment we sat in silence, his even breathing only a few feet away, taking all my attention. The stars were beautiful of course, but I couldn’t get my mind off of Eli for long enough to appreciate them.

  “That’s the Great Mother,” he said softly, pointing somewhere else that I could hardly attend.

  “Isn’t that Ursa? The bear?” I asked.

  “Sioux call her the Great Mother. I been out here so long I get mixed up between the different names.” His voice sounded slightly distant as he spoke. “I dunno, maybe it is a bear. Looks a little skinny to me though.”

  I giggled softly. “Some bears can be skinny, especially in the winter,” I said.

  Again he turned his head, though I turned to face him that time, the orange flickering on his face catching my full attention. “You read that too?”

  Nodding, I sat up and curled my knees to my chest. “After they hibernate, isn’t that right?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Worst time to catch one. Most bears aren’t very easy to irritate. They know they’re bears, so what do they have to be irritated about?”

  Our hands moved closer together on the ground, though neither of us was going to make it obvious. A moment later, he, too, sat up straight and stretched his legs in front of himself.

  “Why do the Sioux fascinate you so much, Eli? I’m sorry if that’s too forward,” I stumbled over my words.

  “No, not at all. Suppose it is a little curious, me knowing all this business about people who are supposed to be our horrible enemies?”

  I just watched his face, bathed in moonlight, waiting for him to continue.

  Eli shrugged. “You been out here as long as me, you start to change the way you see things. They’re not monsters. They’re not even our enemies.”

  That caught my attention. “But aren’t they dangerous?”

  “Bears,” he said. “You wouldn’t go into the forest, looking to kill a bear, and then blame him for getting upset, would you?”

  “No, I suppose not,” I said. “Do you mean they can’t control themselves?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I mean they’re being hunted. All they’re doing is taking back what’s rightfully theirs. Sorry,” he said with another shake of his head. “I get carried away about this.”

  Another crackling sound caught another sidelong glance. “What about you,” he said, reaching over to pat me on the shoulder. When his fingers clapped my back, warmth crept through me. “What do you think of all this, Clara? You seemed a little more than nervous the other day in Yankton.”

  “I thought we were past the Miss James business,” I said, doing my best to avoid thinking about my deeper feelings. But then, it hit me right out of the blue. Leaving home, the long train ride, and now halfway down a trail to a barely-controlled town in the middle of nowhere. My fingertips began to tremble. I reached up and placed my hand upon Eli’s, mindlessly squeezing. Shortly, I pulled my hand away.

  “Sorry for that.” I trailed off.

  “No, not at all. We all get afraid sometimes. No reason to be ashamed.” Eli’s voice was soft and steady, even when another sound in the distance momentarily took his eyes from my face. “What’s upsetting you?”

  “I think,” I took a deep breath. “I’m afraid more for my father than for me, as silly as that may sound. If this claim doesn’t work out, or something happens to me, he’ll never forgive himself.”

  Eli scooted nearer to me, so close that we almost touched. “Can I tell you a secret? Gotta do it real quiet so no one can hear.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle.

  “You have to promise not to laugh at me, all right, Miss Ja – sorry, Clara. Promise?”

  “I do,” I said.

  “First time I had a scouting job, I had just turned sixteen. The War was coming to an end, but there were parts out there – Virginia, the Carolinas – where things were just as lively as ever. I decided to join up because, well, I was stupid, to put it brusquely. Thought I’d have a grand adventure.”

  I squeezed Eli’s hand, almost nervous over what he was going to say, but his even, calm voice lulled me.

  “Well as it happened, my first orders came down. I was to go scout out some hill or another, and report back about what ‘twas I saw. When I got up there, to that hill, all I saw was a bunch of campfires below �
�� soldiers, you see – and I knew there was going to be a battle soon.”

  “What did you do?” I was hanging on his every word.

  “Reported back,” he said abruptly. “But it was all I could do to keep my lips from shaking so hard I couldn’t talk. There must’ve been twenty or thirty thousand men in that camp I spied out.”

  “What happened then? The battle, I mean?”

  Eli shook his head and blinked a few times. “The battle’s not important, and honestly I’d rather forget. Point is, so far as I know, you’ve not had any crying fits, nor any dramatic collapses, so you’re stronger than I was back then.” He squeezed my hand back. “Everyone gets scared. It’s just how you deal with the fear that matters most.”

  We sat in silence for another long moment, Eli staring at the sky. I studied his remarkable face. Who was he? And how had I, in all my strange luck, happened upon a man such as this? The other two wagons were driven by grizzled old men with beards halfway down their bellies.

  From nowhere, a shrill cry pierced the night, shaking me to the core and freezing me in place.

  High-pitched and warbling, I knew what it was though I never thought I’d hear such a thing. Eli told us about the war-cries the Sioux made before ‘taking’ a caravan, as he put it.

  Eli was to his feet and running to his horse faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.

  “Circle up!” Eli’s voice broke the still beauty like a gunshot. He circled the camp shouting to the other drivers. “Round ‘em up! James, Green, get the damn wagons together!”

  He’d been out scouting, making sure tomorrow’s trip was to be a safe one. My heart thumped in my chest right along the thump of his horse’s hooves. “Eli,” I called as he swept past me and I felt the wind from his mount whip past me. “What’s the matter?”

  The wagons, all three of them, moved into a rough circle under a great deal of straining and grunting from the two drivers, and the two men. Even the girls helped the little they could.

  Eli stopped behind me. “Keep yourself safe, Clara, these Indians don’t mean a joke with this. Get under the wagons and stay there. Do you hear?”

  “Y – yes Eli, but I thought the raids were over?”

  “I thought they were. Stay safe, I ain’t losing you. Do exactly as I said. I’ll take care of this. Hyah!” He spun his horse, and spurred the beautiful mare, shooting off into the night. I took a moment to catch my breath and then did exactly as he said.

  Our campfire still raged, but the clouds of dust cast a hazy, thick blanket all around, making it very difficult to make out much more than shapes moving through the darkness.

  One, two...four...six...seven of them? Why are they here? Do they think we have something worth stealing?

  Looking back behind where I was huddled, the three Grund girls, and their mother, were weeping. Father and Mr. Grund clutched rifles – though if it came to shooting, I’m not sure my father would be able to strike the side of a mountain – alongside Green and James, the coach drivers. Eli, still, was nowhere in sight.

  I began to count. Every eighteen seconds, the most ornately painted of the Sioux went through my field of vision. That meant he wasn’t getting any closer.

  Then, just as suddenly as the activity swept through our camp, all of the horses trotted to a halt and the shirtless Sioux with this beautifully painted face hopped off his mottled, bare-backed mare. He said three words I didn’t understand, and as he moved across the dirt to where I lay, his horse didn’t so much as flinch.

  He crouched in front of me. The fire behind him bathed his skin in an orange glow that made him look somehow larger and more imposing than he had when he was atop his horse. The warrior’s hand shot out, his fingers curled around my wrist and he pulled me out into the night.

  I hardened my face. With all the other things he told me, Eli maintained that above all else, the Sioux value composure and dignity. Despite my gut-roiling terror, his warning screaming, crying, thrashing and making a big disturbance made you seem weak and pitiful stuck in my mind. My lips and my hands trembled, but I clenched my fist and slid my lip between my teeth, holding myself as still as I could manage.

  Eli. Wherever he’d gone, he said he’d be back. He said he was going to take care of everything, that I’d be safe. Everything will be fine. Keep your back stiff.

  With a hand under my chin, he tilted my head upwards and stared into my eyes. Even with his paint, his eyes spoke more than words ever could. He searched my face, his gaze strangely calming, considering the present state of affairs. I heard Eli’s horse getting closer, but nowhere near fast enough.

  “Wiyuskinyan wanchinyanke.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but I felt urgency in his words. “Emiciktunza yo.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand...I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you. Do you speak any English?” As I spoke to him, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by his gentle nature. This man had just yanked me out from under a wagon, and although I was supposed to be deathly afraid, I simply wasn’t, though I can’t say why.

  He turned my head to one side, then the other. “I don’t understand,” I repeated softly. “Why are you doing this?”

  Half a smile appeared on the man’s face for an instant. “Tokhi waniphica lo.” He lowered his hands from my face and stared at me for a moment longer, then turned away, squinting toward Eli.

  “Ayustan yo! Ayustan yo!” Eli’s voice burst over all the other noise. “Ayusta – Itan?”

  My captor turned his back to me and extended a hand. “Thehan wanchinyanke sni.”

  As unbelievable as it was, Eli accepted the man’s offered shake, and hugged him around the shoulder with one arm. They chatted briefly before they both looked in my direction. Eli’s face was dark with concern. “I was looking for you,” Eli said. “You promised this was over.”

  I couldn’t help but blush when the man called Itan completely ignored Eli, pointed at me, smiled and nodded. Averting my eyes, I watched the toes of my boots waggle back and forth for a moment before returning my gaze to the two men who continued to watch me for a second before returning their attention to one another.

  Itan stood with his hand on Eli’s shoulder. Both of them seemed very involved in whatever it was they were discussing, but their conversation was in the same tongue with which Itan had spoken to me, so any understanding was completely lost. Even so, I just couldn’t look away. The two of them smiled, though Eli seemed much sterner than his apparent friend. A short exchange later, the Sioux hopped up on his horse, shouted something to the other riders, and vanished back into the night.

  “I’m sorry,” Eli said, taking his hat off as he approached. “I can’t believe that happened. Itan, he – well, he had some kind words about you.”

  I shook my head. “Itan is his name?”

  “Yes, Miss James, he didn’t mean any harm.”

  “I simply don’t know what to say – and please, Eli, we’ve moved past the formality. You know to call me Clara.” I stepped back and forth, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, not quite sure what to do or to say.

  “You all right, little girl?” My father’s voice came from behind me. “He didn’t hurt you, did he? I swear I’ll find that bastard and kill him if he –”

  “No,” I interrupted him. “No, I’m fine. He didn’t lay a hand on me. In fact, I didn’t feel afraid of him for some reason. I think it was because I knew Eli was coming.”

  The cowboy pushed his hat back on his head and took a deep breath. “Is everyone else okay?” He called to the rest of the travelers who emerged from their hiding places one by one. No one was hurt. Though, everyone was certainly rattled in their nerves, to say the least.

  “I thought we were dead,” the littlest Grund girl said, with tears in her eyes. “I thought for sure that Indian was gonna kill us and scalp us.”

  Eli put his arm around her and crouched. “You needn’t be afraid of that, dear May. “That was just a, uh, misunderstanding. He just wanted t
o see what kind of wagons we had.”

  That was either a brilliant lie, or Eli was much better with little girls than I had imagined him. Either way, May calmed down almost immediately, though her father was a bit hotter. “Mr. Masterson,” he said, “you lead us to believe the Sioux were nowhere near here. They’s away to the west, you said before we left. But then, this happened and, I’m not sure we should keep going.”

  Eli shook his head. “No, no, what I said to your daughter wasn’t a lie. That is exactly what they were doing. And I promise that wasn’t a raiding party. If it was, well, I think things would be a mighty piece more chaotic right now. The bulk of the Sioux are ranging out west. It’s hard to explain, I suppose.”

  “Well how about you try?” My father’s voice had just the slightest shake to it – though whether it was anger or anxiousness, I couldn’t tell. “My daughter was just dragged out and made to stand tall before one of them. You can’t just say it was a mistake and then expect me to go along with it.”

  Eli raised his hands defensively. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should explain.” He shot me a glance that said ‘there’s more to this than I’m letting on’ before he took a seat on a fireside stump and indicated the others should sit too. “He’s a Lakota scout.” Eli took a deep breath. “As I’ve told some of you, I worked for the office of Indian Affairs as a ranger. My job was to go ahead of pioneer wagon trains and arrange safe passage through territories claimed by the different tribes. Work out deals, you see, make sure everything went smoothly.”

  He cleared his throat pulled out his canteen for a drink. “There were very few problems. Most of the tribes don’t care one way or another about people passing through, just so long as they are sure that’s what’s happening – passing through – rather than staying. Itan there, that’s his name, the fellow who had a short discussion with Miss James, does for the Sioux, what I did for the American government.”